She pauses, then, “Don’t you dare stand there with your dick out and act like you’re some choir boy. The point is that I don’t want any trouble here. If I’m going to stay, I have to insist on that.”
I think about that for a second. Most of my businesses are just fronts for other activities. Traditionally, the strip club has always been the best environment for run our drug and prostitution rings. I had been thinking about starting that up here, too.
She’s not wrong, however. I just acquired this club. If I show up on someone’s radar, this might be the first place they decide to investigate.
“All right,” I say. “You have a deal. You give me three months, I’ll make sure we all keep our noses clean while we’re on the premises.”
She bites her lip as she nods, then she sticks her hand out to me. “Shake on it.”
I shake her hand. With that said, she sidesteps me. “If you’ll excuse me, this is my off day.”
“Sure you don’t want to spend it here with me?” I say, watching her tight little ass walk away from me. “I can lock the door. We won’t be disturbed for the rest of the night.”
She looks over her shoulder at me but says nothing. I watch her leave and after a few seconds, I breathe in the scents of sex, sweat, and her perfumed skin. Whatever happens next, if anything at all, this was nice.
9
EMBER
Temporary insanity. It’s the only explanation I have for what happened.
Over the past week, I’ve been going over it again and again. I went there to talk. Just talk. I came directly from my run with no makeup and still in my workout clothes. It was supposed to be just a meeting. All business. It’s weird to me that it was until it wasn’t.
The worst thing is that I can’t even blame him. I wanted him. Ireallywanted him. It was like every ounce of attraction I’ve been denying just jumped to the surface and suddenly, I needed to fuck his brains out.
And it was good. The heaviness of his scent mixed with mine, the way he took control, and how he held me in his arms… For those few hours we were together, I felt like nothing could ever hurt me as long as I was in his embrace.
I feel like a teenage fool. It’s probably better not to think about it at all. This whole week, I’ve been avoiding him and it seems likehe’s been doing the same. Our little lessons have stopped for the most part. I haven’t asked him anything and he hasn’t offered.
He also hasn’t come in but three times this week, and every time, we’ve managed to stay out of each other’s sight. When I’m walking through the club, handling issues with the staff or sometimes the customers, he’s in his office. Out of sight, but not out of mind. Sometimes, I feel his eyes on the back of my neck, watching me from behind that two-way mirror above me.
Tonight, I decided to spend the majority of the evening balancing our books. We’re doing really well this month so far, thanks to the advertisement I just paid for. Signs on the interstate have brought in an influx of truck drivers lately, and they have been paying well. And since so many of them are middle-aged to older men, they’re less trouble on top of that.
I lean back in my chair and look at the charts I just made giving our forecast for the coming year. It’ll take some work on my part, but this club should be able to stand on its own feet when I do resign.
It’s a shame that I’m leaving… but I have to. This game is not one that I can be secure in. Especially with Roman and his Bratva backing it. I feel like I’m twisting in the wind.
I hear yelling just outside my door.Shit. What now?
By the time I’m sticking my head out of the door, the yelling has escalated. Natasha and another girl are standing in the hallway as one of the customers stands at the door. His jacket is hanging off him and he’s got a bleary smile as he stares down at them.
“Hey, you owe me, all right?” he slurs. “You can’t just leave me hanging like that.”
What the hell? Where’s security? I step out and ask, “Is there a problem?”
He looks over their heads at me and his smile broadens. “Oh, shit. When are you coming out? That business suit shit turns me on.”
“She’s not a dancer,” says Natasha. “She’s the manager.”
I walk up to them, my mind racing. I haven’t seen Roman and Cynthia’s not here either. I peek into the dressing room to see that she’s not in her normal spot.
“Sir, you’re not supposed to be back here,” I tell the drunk.
“Ooh,sir.” He leans in and goes to touch my hair. “That’s nice, Blondie.”
I lean out of his way and say, “I’m going to have to ask you to go back?—”
“Hey, I don’t know what kind of racket you bitches are running?—”
