Page 18

CHAPTER

SEVEN

brEE

W hat a monumental occasion. I walked into the back door of Slits for possibly the very last time.

Maybe I could go to college while I had the money to pay for Benny covered.

I supposed I’d have to research careers that earned what I made at the arena and dancing to make it worth my while, unless I continued to work two jobs.

That thought stayed with me as I turned into McLovin’s office. His eyes lit up even as they undressed me. He made my skin crawl.

Per his usual, as I clocked in, he asked, “You quitting yet?”

A slow smile spread across my face while I checked the urge to fist-pump the air and schooled my expression as I turned to him. “Actually, I hate to do this to the club, but tonight will be my last dance.”

He pushed up from his chair, sauntering over to where I stood only a couple of feet away, like he was ready to bend me over his desk right now. “Oh, really? Why’s that?”

“Some family things have popped up and I can’t work nights now. ”

“With your boy?” he asked, and oh, my god, he dragged his finger up my arm. If Reece had done that, it would’ve been hot. From McLovin—anything but.

I shook my head. “With my boyfriend.”

His smarmy smile dropped. “ Boyfriend ?”

Oh, and this was where I got him. “Mm… It’s gotten pretty serious. I met him at my other job.”

“You met him at the arena?”

Shaking my head innocently, I answered, “Yes.”

“I highly doubt some arena guy makes what I do as the manager of the club.”

“Probably not,” I said. “But Baker does pretty well for himself.”

“Baker?”

Again, I nodded. “Are you a Copperheads fan? He’s their goalie.”

He fell back a step as if I’d taken a swing at him. “You don’t mean Baker Reece? You’re not dating Baker Reece.”

“I am. We went to the Chophouse for dinner today with several of his friends. They’re on the team, too. Would you like tickets? I’m sure I can score you some good ones.”

“Yes—no. No . Fuck, are you serious? You’re dating Baker Reece?”

“More than dating. We’re exclusive.” I gave it a second for that to really click in. “Oh—look at the time. I have to get dressed for my first number.” As I walked out of his office, I shot a, “Let me know about those tickets” over my shoulder.

Yes. Quitting felt as good as I’d imagined it would, but even though I’d have rather told him to suck it, burning this bridge might come back to haunt me in the future. Reece and I were temporary and I couldn’t know if I’d need this job again. Hopefully not, but better safe than sorry.

Dressed in the little, sparkly number that I’d brought from home, I teased my hair up mega volumes and positively drag queened my face. Probably the darkest makeup I’d ever worn. Then, when the time arrived, I walked backstage ready to make the first of my last dances of the night.

The song lineup consisted of Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me,” then “Cherry Pie” by Warrant, and I finished with “Pour Some Sugar On Me” by Def Leppard. For some reason, that song always got the men parting with their cash.

Maybe I went a little OTT on that last dance of the night, especially for Don, who definitely poured the sugar on me in the form of Benjamins.

The harder I worked it, the harder he jerked it and the more bills he let fly right into my garter.

I wondered what he did to be able to spend that kind of cash, because if every night had been like tonight, Benny would’ve already had a trust set up by me.

Now I felt kind of bad for leaving. Just not bad enough to stay.

As a parting gift to my best regular, I undulated my ass practically in his face, then rolled to the front, kicking my leg up while leaning on my hands, giving him the crotch shot of all crotch shots.

Don’s orgasm was unmistakable. I winked at him while gathering up my tips.

He sat there glassy-eyed, his chest heaving.

The man never even touched me, but he got off that hard from a dance.

This might’ve sounded weird, but I felt good about myself for giving him that.

Clearly coming to see me dance gave him something he missed during his day-to-day life.

Renita waited offstage for me to exit. Hers was the last dance of the night. While her music started, I grabbed my robe hanging on the hook under my name, tying that around myself before scooting back to the dressing room.

After dressing, I scrubbed my face free of that heavy makeup—it took four remover cloths to accomplish—and started cleaning out my locker. Then, giving the dressing room one last look, I left to clock out.

McLovin’s frosty attitude felt more like a perk than the biting cutdown I was sure he wanted .

“It was great working with you,” I said while smiling at him, holding my hand out to shake. He didn’t shake it.

Instead, he said, “Your last check will get deposited like always.” Then he turned away from me, dismissing me. I had to bite back the laugh as I walked out to my car.

Maybe I should’ve stayed to talk with the other women, but we weren’t really friends. Everyone stayed glued to their phones when not on stage, so I didn’t feel the need to make any big goodbyes.

Back in my car, I locked the doors then called Reece. “Did I wake you?” I asked when he picked up.

“Wake me? Woman, please. You in the bed next to me yet?”

“No.” I laughed.

“Then I’m not sleeping. You quit?”

“The deed is done,” I replied happily.

“Then you won’t be sleeping, either. Get your ass home. I’m ready to fuck it.”

Well, that thrilled me almost as much as it scared the hell out of me. I liked sex as much as any other twenty-something, independent woman, but my track record wasn’t exactly wild. The only two partners I’d had before? About as adventurous as a wet sponge.

Dane, Benny’s sperm donor, had tried ass play once.

Once. That was enough for both of us to pretend it never happened.

It hurt so badly that I’d screamed, clocking him as hard as I could, right in the jaw.

Maybe I was naive, but I failed to see anyone allowing this if it regularly hurt that much.

There had to be a trick that Dane knew nothing about.

With Reece’s confidence and the way he made me feel, I soul-deep believed that he’d make it good for me.

When I pulled into the complex parking lot, Reece was standing in an empty spot next to his truck waiting for me. I barely had time to hop out and shut my door before he was stalking toward me, a plastic bag swinging from one hand .

He pinned me against the car and kissed the hell out of me.

His hands went everywhere—threading through my hair, gripping my ass, gliding up and down my back like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to touch most.

And his excitement lit me up like a fuse—hot, instant, and absolutely electric.

“Glad you’re done with the club,” he said, tearing his mouth from my neck. “I hate you coming home so late alone. It’s not safe and I worry about you.”

He worried about me? I’d had real boyfriends who never worried about me coming home at night. Yet again Baker Reece proved himself to be a good guy, even if he didn’t want the world to know it.

Rather than get emotional, I said, “I believe you wanted to fuck?”

The smirk spread across his face. He grabbed my hand leading me to the apartment. The man had my bra unclasped from under my shirt before we’d ever made it inside my place.

It was on.

Oh, Lord. I didn’t even make it past the doorway before Reece had me against the wall, mouth crushing mine, his greedy hands tore at my leggings and panties in a frenzied attempt to get me naked from the waist down.

My bag hit the floor with a dull thud, and I barely caught my breath before he backed up just enough to shut the door behind me.

His eyes were dark, hungry. “Bedroom. Now.”

I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. I was already wet, already aching, already wrecked from the way he looked at me like I was the only thing he’d ever craved. He followed me in, close behind, and when I turned to face him, his shirt was gone.

A man on a mission.

“I brought something for you,” he said, voice low and wicked, as he set the plastic bag gently on the bed .

My heart thudded harder. “What kind of something?”

He opened the bag and pulled out a sleek, black vibrator and a long silk tie. I swallowed. Hard.

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Oh,” he echoed with a smirk. “Trust me?”

My pulse fluttered. “Yes.”

In a blur, he stripped me down—his hands reverent but fast, like he’d waited too damn long for this. He had me lie back on the bed, lifting my arms above my head, and used the silk tie to bind my wrists to the headboard. His gaze dragged slowly down my body like he wanted to memorize every inch.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, brushing his lips over my hipbone.

“I want you so bad it hurts.”

“I’m gonna make you wait. Just a little.”

He slid the vibrator between my legs, teasing it along my folds but not turning it on. My hips bucked. He smiled.

“Patience, baby.”

Then he flipped the switch.

I gasped. The sensation was instant and electric, low and deep, right against my clit. He moved it in slow, deliberate circles, his free hand gripping my thigh to keep me open, exposed.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “Already dripping. You like this, don’t you?

I whimpered, pulling at the tie, trying to get closer, but I couldn’t move. That only made it hotter. My legs started to tremble.

“Reece, please ?—”

He pressed the toy harder. “Not yet. You come when I say.”

What? I was seconds away, eyes rolling back, and then he stopped. Just like that.

“Reece! ”

He crawled up my body and kissed me breathless while slipping two fingers inside me, curling them just right. “You’re going to come so hard for me you’ll forget your own name,” he whispered against my mouth.

Yes. I wanted that. I wanted that right now.