Smacking his arm, I lean back, but he still has my hair wrapped around his finger, keeping me from going far. This close, if people weren’t making assumptions before, they certainly are now.
“I was trying not to miscount, shut up,” I chuckle. “You guys didn’t really give me any training, you just tossed me to the sharks and told me to steal a couple of teeth without losing a hand. At least Mav went through instructions before we started.”
He rolls his eyes. “You forgot to check for plain clothes.”
I blink before mentally groaning. He’s right; security is most effective when you don’t know it’s there. The suits are just enough to get you to let your guard down when they’re out of sight.
“Then I guess I can’t be making promises about not wandering off. The last thing I need is to fail on my first day.”
His humor drains away, but he quickly shakes off his funk, cashing out his machine and getting to his feet. By the time I’m done following his lead, he’s snatched a couple of drinks from a server and passes one my way.
“Then I guess we better start looking for something interesting to play next,” he suggests, and we start ambling around the place casually.
Our steps are languid, like we have the entire night ahead of us. As the hours tick by without incident, the instantaneous panic that their arrival caused has faded, leaving only wary skittishness in its wake. People seem reluctant to believe that this is a simple night out for the guys, more likely that they’re doing a spontaneous assessment of the employees.
As such, hardly ten minute intervals pass by without a server subtly eyeing our glasses, not wanting to be annoying, but trying to time it perfectly so that a glass doesn’t sit empty for more than a few seconds. I had to switch to water the second time around, or I’ll end up so hammered that I’ll never be able to accomplish what I need to.
It’s easier as the night drags on to pretend that it’s just a date, enjoying the night of mock freedom. Everett cuts himself off as well when he gets a heavy buzz going, but it’s still enough to have some of the tense air he always seems to carry fading away. His smiles come more frequently, easier, and it’s impossible to keep my head completely on the task at hand instead of the way his hand is currently settled on my thigh.
I’m sitting on his lap as he plays a game of poker, feigning a buzz and needing to opt out for a couple of rounds. The leggings I have on do little to diminish the heat of his hand as it slips beneath the hem of my dress, settling back on my thigh. The thin fabric may as well not be there as his thumb strokes a slow path over the sensitive skin.
My cheeks grow warm, and I glance nervously at the other men at the table. Thus far in my life, I’ve had to sneak around if I ever wanted to hook up with anyone, nothing more than a quick fuck between chores so that I could get back home and deny everything. Not like I had any real interest in dating any of them, but even that brief illusion of affection was enough to keep me going at times.
I could pretend, if only for a few minutes, that someone in my life didn’t despise me, wanted me. Loved me. And if not, at least it was the one thing I could actually have some sort of control over. I was going to get beaten and called a whore whether or not I slept with anyone, so why not at least get something out of it? But even they ignored my bruises, knew full well what was happening and chose to ignore it.
So being right out in the open with Everett’s hand up my skirt has me squirming, imagining the insults about to be lobbed my way. None of the men at the table say a single word, though, or call him out on it. It’s clear they know, especially as he takes longer and longer to remove his hand in order to play his cards before dipping it right back to his lap, but the only thing I see in their eyes is amusement, lust, or even a bit of envy.
“So kind of you to join us tonight, Ev,” one of the men states to his right. His gaze bounces between Everett’s face and down to his lap. He has a better angle than any of them, can completely see the way that his hand disappears beneath my dress, the way I’m shifting my thighs. “And show off your pretty new friend.”
His hand tightens briefly on my thigh before he pulls away, tugging the hem down to cover me as he does. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing in my shoes,” he defends with a chuckle.
I filled him in on my plan to act as an escort, and though his lips pursed at the idea, especially with as touchy of a topic as it was when I came to stay with them before figuring out what capacity I’d be working for Julian in, he agreed it was a smart idea. Because there was no way that people tonight wouldn’t remember my face with the spectacle that his and Grave’s arrival caused. This many eyes on us, I need them to write me off as unimportant and not scrutinize my every movement, prove I can be more than a distraction stealing Julian’s spotlight.
The stranger tosses his cards down with a groan. “With as much luck as she’s bringing you tonight? Hell, I’m tempted to try and steal her away long enough to win back at leasthalfof what I’ve lost.”
“Not a bad idea.” My head cranes up the same time the air rushes from my lungs, an arm banding around my stomach and plucking me from my seat.
Grave sets me back on my feet, keeping his arm wrapped around my stomach and resting his chin on my shoulder as he looks down at the table. “I could do with some good luck. What do you say, gorgeous? Is it my turn to play?”
Even the dealer freezes, paralyzed with his arm extended, card in hand. The men around the table share quick, nervous glances and try to appear smaller. Another few have their gazes locked directly on Grave’s face, like they’re scared to let him out of their sight, to give him the opportunity to catch them off guard.
I can’t pretend to be terrified; not when Grave has no idea what Ev and I are doing and it would hurt him if I reacted like that. But needing to preserve a bit of the cover I was going for, I stay still, flicking my attention back to my date, as if waiting to see how he’ll react.
He simply rolls his eyes and shoos us away with a hand, turning back to the game. “Bring her back by midnight.”
One of the strangers clears his throat. “Umm, Ev, not that it’s my place, but… you sure about this, man? You know what happened to his last toy.”
I furrow my brow, genuinely confused, but figure it’s a story for later, without witnesses. I arrived here with the two of them; it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume I’d be fairly comfortable around the man, like I had no idea about the rumors surrounding him, since I claimed this to be my first ‘date’ with Everett. For all they know, I signed on to entertain them both for the night.
Everett rocks back in his chair casually. “You’re right.”
The man visibly relaxes, and it’s impossible to ignore the worried glances being shot in my direction, these strangers appearing genuinely concerned for my welfare despite thinking I’m nothing more than Ev’s flavor of the week. And coming from the sort of men that I’m sure have no qualms using people and dumping them before they’ve even finished cleaning the cum off of their skin, a bit of unease settles in my gut.
Whatever Grave did to his last ‘toy’ must have really been gruesome if it makes this bunch speak up on my behalf to try and save me a similar fate. Especially when they don’t even think of me as a person, just something they can potentially fuck after Everett grows bored.
“It’s not your place,” Ev finishes, chair thumping back down as he leans his arms on the poker table. Tossing a look over his shoulder, he faces me and Grave. “Play nice, G. I’m not done with her yet.”
A warm tongue trails over the side of my neck, and my responding shudder of arousal is easily misinterpreted as fear to the men around us by their frowns. “Of course you’re not,” he agrees easily. “Pretty thing like this deserves much more than one night.”
