Page 22

Chapter 22

Sidetraxxx

Dell

P ulling up to Robyn’s townhouse Friday night, I take in my surroundings. Last time I was here, I brought her home from the club and we were both in some kind of intertwined emotional mess. I didn’t pay attention to just how nice her place was. These townhouses can’t be more than a year old.

I check my outfit in the reflection of her large windows on the small porch. Dark jeans, dressy cowboy boots, and a white short sleeve dress shirt finished with my ever-present gold chain, watch, and a few rings. I mean, come on, how else will people know I’m bisexual without the rings?

When she opens her door, warm interior light covers me as I stand on her front porch. “Hi,” she smiles.

“Lord have mercy,” I reply with a slight head shake, taking in her outfit. It’s the dress she was wearing the day I met her four years ago—the day I pretend to not remember. It’s a short, pink dress with the straps tied into bows at the shoulders. The square-cut neckline accentuates her toned chest and I find myself fighting the urge to untie one of the bows. She’s pulled her hair back in a bun, just like mine, but hers is actually styled.

Soooo pretty.

Oh shit , I’m just staring at her. I shake myself out of it. “Sorry. These are for you,” I say, offering the bouquet of calla lilies I bought this morning for her. “You’re stunning.”

Taking them in surprise, she gives them a whiff and gestures for me to come inside. “Thank you. You look really nice, too. Did you know these were my favorite?”

“Are they?” I ask honestly as we walk to her modern kitchen. The whole place is beautifully bright with an open concept. The living room is sunken just off the kitchen. There are gorgeous white marble counters, an island the size of a queen bed, and a natural wood dining table just next to it.

Most of the walls are pale green with white trim and there’s so much of her here. Pictures of her and her team, her family. There are rugby cleats by the back door sitting next to high heels and running shoes.

Rugby doesn’t pay much, so this must be from that influencer money. Good for her.

“No, I swear I didn’t know these were your favorites. I just picked out the most striking bouquet. They remind me of you.”

“Why’s that?” she asks, opening a cupboard and pulling out a vase as I find a pair of shears to start cutting and arranging the flowers for her.

“They’re so elegant and strong. They demand you take notice. Long, lovely lines and gentle curves.”

“Are you really serious, or are you just saying that because you’re trying to show me what to expect from a date? Because I gotta say, no man has ever said something like that to me.”

My brows pinch together as I drop the clippings into the trash. “I’m serious, Robyn.”

“The most I've received from men in the past was take out.”

“That’s because you were dating boys, darlin’.” I arrange the last few stems until it’s finished, then look her deep in the eyes when I say, “And I’m USDA-certified grade A man.”

Heat kisses her cheeks before she smiles. “I know.”

A few minutes later, after opening her door and guiding her into her seat, I take my own. She looks over at me as if she's just now registering the car I drive.

“I know I was in here before, but I guess I wasn’t pay attention.” She glides her hand over everything she can touch. “What kind of car is this?”

“Audi R8.”

“Daaamn, Dell,” she drawls and then studies me. “Excuse my nosiness, but you’re either in crazy debt or you’re making way better money than me. Here I was thinking I’m killin’ it with my brand new Jeep,” she giggles, gesturing to her mint-green hard top parked next to us.

I know it’s shallow of me, but pride bubbles up in my chest and mixes with a little bit of guilt. “I’m doing alright. Making content and owning my own business has treated me well.” Pulling at my neck, I admit the rest. “And my family kinda has money.”

“What kind of money?” She shakes her head. “Sorry, that was way too invasive. Do not answer that.”

“It’s okay,” I say and pull out onto the street. “My parents and sister run a fifth generation whiskey distillery in Kentucky, just outside of Lexington.”

“What’s it called? My dad loves whiskey.”

“Castle Whiskey.”

Realization dawns on her. “What? That’s a really famous whiskey, isn’t it? I think I just saw Matthew McConaughey in an ad for it!”

I laugh, “Yes, that’s the one.”

“Jesus,” she mutters.

“But I swear, almost everything I own I paid for myself. I did get seed money from Gram for my business, which she would not let me pay back, but other than that, everything is me.”

“Do they know about your OnlyFans?”

I nod. “They knew when and why I started it and when it ended. My family is very… progressive, let's say. They didn’t lo ve that I did it, but they were supportive as long as I was happy.

“My dad lived in Louisiana. Came from nothin’ and met my mom in college. After school, they got married and ran the business together. Kinda,” I chuckle. “Gram’s still kicking and acts like the face of the company.”

“Aww. Are you close with them?”

“Very. Gram is my best friend.”

“That’s so cute.”

“Her ninetieth birthday is coming up and we’re having a huge surprise party for her.”

“Do they ever come here to visit? I’d love to meet them.”

Glancing over, her smile is radiant even in the darkness of my car, and an ache forms in my chest. I haven’t introduced anyone new to them since Travis. After what he did to me, I didn’t want them getting attached to anyone because I didn’t want to get attached to anyone again. Even in the sea of clients and random hookups throughout the years, I haven’t had a steady significant other since then. I haven’t seriously considered being with someone until… now. Now?

The image of Robyn meeting my family plays like a movie in my head. She would give my parents a hug and then after her, Isaiah. God, wouldn’t that be the dream?

I reach over and lace my fingers between hers, then guide her hand to hold the stick as I down shift. “I’d love for you to meet them.” Remembering why we’re doing this, I add, “What are Zay’s parents like?”

“Oh. Well, his dad, Neal, is nice, but I think his relationship with him has been a little off. His mom died when he was eight.”

“Oh shit. I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. Zay didn’t tell me any of this though. I heard it from his older sister, Angie.”

“He doesn’t like to talk about it? ”

“Not really. He will if you bring it up, but he doesn’t get deep about it.”

When there’s a lull in our conversation, our fingers gently stroke each other. Just that tiny movement has my blood stirring and my heartbeat galloping. Temptation sings, urging me to drop her as a client just so I can have her. But there's more to consider. It’s not just us.

“What do you like about Isaiah?”

She sighs, “I thought we weren’t focusing on him anymore. This is a dating lesson for a to-be-determined man.”

As much as I want this to be a real date between us and not a practice date for some to-be-determined man—as much I want to blur the lines of this dating coach situation—I try not to let on. I simply smile at her. “Just tell me.”

Her head lolls back and she thinks it over before smiling to herself. “I like the connection we have in rugby. It’s like, even if we didn’t have anything else, we’d still have that. He’s also kind and gentle. He really listens to me. He just… makes me feel good. I know that sounds insignificant, but it’s really that simple.”

“He is like that,” I hum back at her, then train my eyes back on the road. “He’s also fine as hell.”

“Dell,” she drawls in an amused but surprised tone. “Do you have a thing for him?”

“How can I not? Don’t you just want him to pick you up and spin you around?”

Her honeyed laugh is like a melody. “You might have a better chance with him than I do.”

“He’s queer though, right? I’m usually pretty spot-on with these things.”

“Yeah. He told me back in college that he was bi. Though to my knowledge he’s only had one significant other. A girlfriend in college.”

“Interesting…”

“Why?” she asks, her voice low and probing as we pull up to Sidetraxxx, a nightclub in the Gayborhood I’ve been to several times.

“No reason,” I trill and hop out, tossing the keys to the valet as he hands me a ticket.

Robyn eyes me curiously as she takes my hand to step out. “What do you have planned?”

“Follow my lead.”

When 1 we enter the club, music and people overwhelm the senses in the best way. Nothing is said between us as I lead her to the bar and order our drinks with our hands intertwined.

That’s when I spot him. Isaiah stands behind a crowd of people along the perimeter of the club, eyes locked on us. She hasn’t spotted him, and she has no idea I taunted him so he’d follow us here. After Robyn takes her first sip, I lean in to whisper in her ear, “Show me what you’ve learned on the dance floor, darlin’.”

When she leans back and looks up at me, her eyes sharpen and her smile expands. “Alright,” she says, and pulls me through the crowd. “But first you need to dance like me before I dance like you.”

I chuckle, “Oh, you mean dance like people don’t have cameras on their phones?”

“So what? Free yourself!” she hollers, swinging her arms and spinning around. “Let the music speak to your body!”

I can’t say no to her, especially when she’s like this. Playful. Joyful. Completely unbothered by those around us as she coaxes me to dive in head first.

We’re dancing separately, but together. My legs are wide as I squat, thrusting my hips in an upward motion. My head bobs along to the beat as she turns her back to me, spreads her legs wide, and bends all the way over. Her barely-covered backside is only inches away from me when I place my hand on her hip and she gives me a little twerk.

Before I can settle her against me, she’s up and turned around—throwing her hands in the air and jumping like a fish out of water.

Unable to hold back my laughter, I join in and match her energy. Our drinks spill everywhere, but I don’t care. Not when the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen is shining brighter than the strobe lights and looking only at me. Not when she’s doing the Dougie during a Dua Lipa song. And not when she’s bent in half doing the Bernie Lean.

This girl lets it all go. She sheds every bad thought she’s ever had and flings it across the dance floor.

When the song changes, she takes a deep breath and shimmies her way into my arms.

“Atta girl,” I murmur in her ear, and she grinds against my thigh, her hands seeking purchase on my hips and mine on hers. “That’s it.” With her eyes on mine, I slide one hand up her back and press her closer to me so we’re chest-to-chest. The desire to rip this dress off and feel her skin against mine is a welcomed invasion.

I’ve been her personal trainer for two years, and I know her body, but I need to know it completely. I need to know what color her nipples are and if she shaves or leaves it thick down there. I need to know what her sweat tastes like and what she sounds like when I make her come.

The No Dating Clients rule was created because I was gaining an unsavory reputation. I never wanted anything serious with those people, but I needed to be serious about my business. But what if I’m now neglecting my heart? What if she’s the one? What if they are?

When I look up from our fused bodies, I catch Isaiah watching us like a hawk from the corner. You like to watch, Zay? Enjoy the show .

Turning my focus back on Robyn, I lean in to whisper, “Show me again how bad you are at kissing.” Her eyes light up and with no hesitation, she pulls me down and closes the gap.

Our dancing comes to a halt. Her lips are so soft and full, opening for my tongue to reunite with hers. I don’t give a damn that my dick is pressing against her, because the subtle push she gives back is all the confirmation I need to know she wants this too.

I open my eyes to find Isaiah exactly where he was before, torturing himself by watching me take what’s his. Without breaking eye contact, I slide one hand to her firm ass and pull her closer while the other cups the back of her head. I’m pleasantly surprised when she slips her hands into my back pockets and squeezes too. The little whimper she lets out is like gas on the fire burning inside me.

For a second, I pull away and press my forehead into hers. “God, you’re bad at kissing.” She giggles in response and a very simple part of me lights up with fireworks because I just made Robyn Cassidy happy . “I think we need to practice a lot more.”

She places one of her hands on the back of my head while the other presses to my chest. “Whatever you say, Coach.”

My grin meets hers. “Speaking of coaches… Isaiah is here. Don’t look now, but he’s watching us.” I don’t miss the way her breath catches and she stiffens.

But before she says anything, a Black woman with long, thin box braids and a short dress punches her in the shoulder. “I love you, you slut! Dance with me!”

1. Training Season - Chloé Caillet Mix by Chloé Caillet & Dua Lipa