by Nina Levine
“Yes, my name is Wren—”
“Go on through,” he said, cutting me off. “Mr. Rivera is expecting you.”
“Th-thank you.” I stepped through the door he held open for me and let out a sigh as the cool air swirled around my feet. The club looked much the same as before, the lux fabrics and the opulence an almost indecent assault on the senses, especially when it was pared with women dressed in lingerie dancing on raised platforms with poles, in cages, and on men’s laps. I walked to the bar, then stopped. Bane never said to go to his office, and I figured barging in on him once was enough. I waited for him by the black-lacquered bar, my gaze bouncing around the room.
There were so many men here already, a lot of them sitting in quartets in comfortable-looking leather armchairs with high rolled arms. The women were perched either on their knees or on the arms of the chairs themselves, their long, lean legs draped over the men’s laps. A lot of the women didn’t look real to me. How could someone look like that, I wondered, and how could they choose this as their career?
“Little Bird.”
Jumping, I turned to find Bane standing there in the same suit as I’d seen him in this morning, although he’d jettisoned the jacket. His shirt was open at the collar, revealing a tantalizing look at the tattoos that continued from his neck down onto his chest. His dark hair was fuck-me tousled, his dark eyes drinking me in.
“Jesus, you scared me,” I told him.
He smirked.
The bastard.
“Would you like a drink?”
“Fuck, yes. Whisky on the rocks.”
His smile widened a little more before he turned to the bartender waiting at his elbow. After he’d ordered our drinks, we waited in silence. Bane was staring at me, his gaze never staying in one place too long. It dropped from my face to my chest, then lower. I had no idea what he was expecting to see. I’d come straight from work, so I smelled of wet dog and was covered in hair. I’d toyed with the idea of getting changed, but I figured this wasn’t actually going to take too long. I’d find out the details, then I’d leave.
“Let’s go and sit down,” he said, handing me my drink and gesturing to the main floor of the club. I let him lead the way, trying to ignore how great his ass looked in those slacks. He picked a couple of seats at the far end of the club as far away from the gyrating pole dancers as we could get.
“I thought you might want a little privacy,” he told me in a dark voice that made my ovaries quiver a little bit.
I took a sip of my whisky, savoring the burn. “This won’t take long.”
With humor dancing in his eyes, he also took a sip from his glass before placing it onto the small table beside him. “I make it a point never to do things fast with a beautiful woman.” He lounged back in the chair, his elbows on the high arms, his legs spread wide. I got a very vivid picture in my mind of what it would be like to be with a man like him, one that oozes dominance and power.
I cleared my throat. “We need to discuss the offer you made me this morning.”
He steepled his fingers together in front of him. “And I am all—”
He was cut off when an artificial redhead in matching red lingerie flopped into his lap. “Hi, daddy,” she purred, running her finger over his jaw like a lover would.
With far more gentleness than I expected, he eased her off his lap. “Get out of here, Syn. You can clearly see I’m in a meeting.”
The woman, Syn, cast her eyes to me, her expression turning sour. “A new Doll?” she asked.
Bane stared at me, a smile on his sinful mouth. “Maybe. Now get the fuck out of here.”
I watched the other woman go, then swallowed another mouthful of whisky. When I turned back, Bane was still staring at me, only all amusement was gone.
“What’s a Doll?” I asked.
“What I call my dancers.”
“Oh.” Nervous energy fluttered around inside me, pinging against my skin and making me suddenly jumpy. Is that what Bane wanted me for? To be one of his Dolls? I looked around at the other women. They were all dressed in barely-there lingerie, their faces perfectly done, their hair immaculate. If his offer was for me to become one of his dancers, I wasn’t sure I could.
“Should we get down to business then?” he asked smoothly.
Drawing in a shaky breath, I turned back to him. “Yes,” I croaked. Jesus-fucking- Christ, what was I doing? I knew I was considering making a deal with the Devil, but could I lower my standards this much? I had no issues with sexuality. I had no issues with other women who wanted to express that sexuality, but the idea of becoming a dancer was throwing up roadblocks in my head. I couldn’t do this—not even for Hawk.
I threw the last of my whisky down my throat and stood. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rivera, but I can’t do this.”
“Do what, exactly? We’re having a drink.”
I ran a hand through my hair, checking my ponytail was still in place. Of course, it was. It hadn’t moved all day. Why the fuck was I stalling on this?
“I can’t become one of your Dolls,” I blurted out. “Hard limit.”
His eyes became hooded. “I never mentioned anything about you becoming one of my Dolls.” His words were controlled like rage was suddenly seeking to claw out of him. What had I said to make him react like that? “In fact, what I want from you, you probably won’t want to give me because if you’re offended by some women dancing in lingerie, you won’t like what I was about to offer you.”
Keeping Hawk’s life firmly in my mind, I let out a breath. “What are you offering?” I asked in a whisper.
He gestured to the chair. “Sit down, and I’ll tell you.”
I stood there a moment longer, waging war with myself. I could do this. I could sit and hear the guy out. Moving back to the chair, I sat, bringing my legs up beneath me. “If you expect me to whore myself out, you’ve got another thing coming. Nothing is worth giving up my pride for that.”
I glared at him, but what I’d said had clearly amused him.
“I don’t want you to whore yourself out as one of my Dolls.”
“What do you want me for then?”
“I want you to be my personal Doll.”
A shot of lust ricocheted through my body at the same time as outrage did. Conflicted by the two strong emotions, I shut my eyes for a moment and breathed. “Your personal whore, you mean?” When I opened them again, his dark eyes were roving my body.
He shrugged unashamedly. “I don’t care what you label it… I want you for myself.”
“What if I told you I had a boyfriend? Would that offer still stand?”
His dark eyes clouded over a little as he leaned forward in his chair. “You don’t have a boyfriend, Little Bird, so don’t even fucking think about playing that card.”
Although outrage still hummed through my body, I swallowed down the insults I wanted to hurl at him, remembering my brother’s life could hinge on this. “How long?”
“Two weeks.”
“And after two weeks, I’m free to leave, never to see you again?”
“If you can walk away from me at the end of those two weeks,” he replied smugly.
I huffed a laugh and unfolded my legs, placing them onto the hardwood floor. “What would be involved with me being your Doll?”
“You will be available to me at all times.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I rolled that statement around in my head. Available to him at all times was a pretty broad request. “Available for what?”
He smiled, and my heart nearly jumped right out of my chest. It was terribly unfair that he was this good-looking. In fact, why would he even want to be seen with me? I smelled of wet dog and was covered in fur six days a week.
“This and that,” he replied, taking another sip from his glass.
I drained the rest of mine and placed it back onto the table with a shaking hand. “This isn’t how contracts work. You can’t be vague or ambiguous. I will never agree to broad statements like ‘availab
le to you at all times’ and ‘this and that.’ Sorry.” I folded my arms defensively across my chest and stared at him.
“All right, Little Bird, do you want to know what I really want from you for two weeks? I want your complete submission in all things. Sex, yes, but I will make that very pleasurable for you, but in other ways, too. You will be there to accompany me to dinners and meetings when needed.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. This sounded a hell of a lot like Pretty Woman. Hey, at least we were in the right city, right? I stared at him, taking in every angle of his face, his jaw.
Two weeks.
Could I give up two weeks of my life in order to get Hawk off the hook?
“What about my brother?”
He spread his legs out a little wider, my eyes tracking the movement. “I’m not into men.”
“No, I mean, what happens to his debt? Will it be wiped?”
“Of course.”
“I want that written into the contract.”
“Contract?”
“You think that all this won’t be put into writing? I’m going to make damn sure it is, so we both know where we stand.”
“No contracts,” he said in a hard voice. “My word is my bond.”
“Then, we don’t have a deal,” I told him, daring him to counter my threat with one of his own. When he didn’t, I stood. He mirrored me, his expression vacillating between humor and frustration. He finally fixed it on indifference and held out his hand for me to shake.
“I’ll let you think about this a little longer before you give me your answer.”
What an asshole. Opening my mouth to argue, I shut it a minute later. I didn’t need to waste time on this. It was not beneficial, and it would only serve to put me in a worse mood. He brought my hand to his mouth, brushing his lips against the back of it.
“I will be seeing you later, Wren. You can count on that.”
As I stalked away, the only thought I had was that I would never sell myself to a man like that.
Not even for my brother.
7
Bane
Jesus-fucking-Christ, my dick was so hard. As I watched Wren stalk away from me, I caught the looks from my patrons, from my Dolls. They’d never seen me with a woman like her before—one who had no idea about her sex appeal. Her sharp tongue and quick mind also turned me the fuck on.
“Want me to take care of that for you, daddy?” Syn asked, sashaying her way over to me. I knew the moment Wren left that she would swoop in.
Dropping to the floor between my legs, she reached up to rub my dick, but I stopped her, pressing my fingers into her wrist.
“No, Syn.”
Fuck, this had happened before. I’d had Dolls getting possessive over me, and I’d had to get rid of them. I didn’t belong to any woman, and as soon as they thought they did, they were gone too.
I stood, side-stepping Syn who was blinking at me like she couldn’t believe I’d turned down a blowjob. I wouldn’t have let her suck me in public, though. There were strict rules in the club, which included no sexual acts were performed on the general floor. That’s what the private rooms were for. Syn was walking a fine line to think I would let that shit go.
When I was safely locked back in my office, I called Dagger, then got back to the paperwork that had been demanding my attention for the better half of this week.
Two hours later, Dagger strolled through the door, his hair wet and his clothes clean.
“What did you find?”
“One of Sanderson’s guys sniffing around on our turf.”
“Did you question him?”
“Why do you think I got showered and changed?” he replied. Of course. Dagger wasn’t known for his patience, and when information wasn’t given quickly enough, he had a tendency to get out one of his knives and made the person more receptive to his desires.
I leaned back in my office chair and crossed my legs at the ankle. “Do we have anything yet?”
Dagger shook his head. “No. The guy was fucking keeping his thoughts to himself.”
I didn’t believe for one fucking minute that he didn’t know something. “You need to fucking find out. There can’t be any blowback onto the club.”
“No problem.” He turned to leave, but I stopped him. “Do you have someone on Wren?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell them to call me when she goes anywhere other than her work and home.”
Dagger pulled out his phone, his thick thumbs flying over the screen as he relayed the message. “Done. Anything else you need or am I good to walk the floor?”
“We’re done.”
He left me alone, and the silence was driving me fucking insane. I’d done all the paperwork, and the report from Dagger only made my skin fucking twitch. I needed a distraction, and the only one I could think of that I wanted was a little blonde with legs for fucking days. Snagging the jacket off the back of my chair, I slid into it then made my way downstairs.
It was edging onto eight o’clock in the evening, The Dollhouse filling up nicely. I had all the Dolls working tonight because it was the best day for them to get tips. As I strolled past the bar, the bartender, Rachel, grabbed me.
“Got a minute to talk, boss?” she asked, shoving her black hair over her shoulder. She was wearing a black teddy today, and given the nature of pouring drinks, it was the only position in my club where I allowed that amount of clothing. When I’d first hired her a couple of years ago, she’d been adamant she wasn’t going to toe the company line. After one night fully clothed, she soon figured out the tips were better the less she had on.
I checked my watch, but I had nowhere I had to be until I got a call from Dagger’s guy. I was going to pay Wren a little visit tonight and prove to her that agreeing to my offer would be a pleasurable one. “Sure.”
“I was wondering if I could work a few more shifts in the future.” She dropped her gaze, and I looked a little harder at her face, at her body language. Her makeup was a little heavier tonight, and my hands balled into fists.
“Is your cunt of a boyfriend hitting you, Rach?”
She recoiled at my tone, touching the black eye hidden behind the foundation and whatever the fuck else she had on under there. “It was an accident.”
“Jesus Christ,” I bit out under my breath.
“I need to get more cash together to leave him. I swear he won’t hit me again.”
“And if he does?” I slung the words at her like acid. I never understood the mentality of a woman who stayed with an abusive partner. I might use women for sex, but I still respected them and their wishes. To hit one—especially one you professed to love—was a dog act.
“One of the other girls said I could go stay with her.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Don’t wait for him to hit you again. Pack your shit up when you get home and go stay with whoever the fuck said you could crash at theirs.”
She nodded her head, her eyes downcast. “And the shifts?”
I resisted the urge to run my hands through my hair. “Of course, you can have more fucking shifts,” I snarled.
“Thank you, Mr. Rivera,” she mumbled and moved back to her post.
I stared at her in silence, wondering what the fuck would happen to her. Most people thought I didn’t give a shit about women, but the ones who worked for me were under my protection. I would fucking destroy anyone who tried to hurt them.
With that knowledge weighing heavily on me, I walked through the front door and spoke to the bouncer.
“I’m going out for a few hours. Dagger is here if there’s an issue.”
“You got it, boss,” the guy replied.
I was about to walk away when I stopped, driven to ask him, “You all right? Everything okay?”
His eyes flared in surprise. “Yeah, great. Thanks.”
I nodded. “Good man. Call me if you need me.”
I strolled away from the front of the club, sliding into the rear seat of the town car that was parked
out in front. I was being driven back to my apartment when I got a phone call from a private number.
“Target is going out tonight.”
“Where?” I demanded, gripping the phone more tightly.
“Temptation.”
I hung up and told my driver, Andy, to hurry the fuck up.
8
Wren
Skimming my hands down the stretchy electric-blue fabric of the dress I was wearing, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Even I had to admit that I looked great. I’d gone a little heavier on the eye makeup, lighter on the face, and painted my lips a bright red. Darcy was going to have a fucking aneurism when she saw me.
With one final check of my reflection, I grabbed my phone and switched purses, making sure I had all the essentials, which included a condom. Because a girl never knew when she might need one. Plus, seeing Bane this evening had left me an aching mess despite the proposition he’d made.
Since coming home, that had been all I could think about, but even as I tried to come up with all the reasons why I shouldn’t, I kept returning to the fact that Hawk would be off the hook after this. It wasn’t a stay of execution, rather just a reprieve until he fucked things up again.
So when I looked at it that way, there was no point in even considering the offer, was there? Of course, I wasn’t a cold-hearted bitch. I understood that Hawk would probably not be walking this earth anymore if I let Bane destroy him like he wanted to.
Slipping my feet into the only pair of heels I owned, I locked my apartment and walked outside to call an Uber. I only had to wait a few minutes before I was safely tucked into the back of an air-conditioned minivan being driven by what looked like a soccer mom.
“I love that dress,” she exclaimed as she navigated her way through the busy LA streets.
“Oh, thank you,” I replied, pulling the hem down a little. It was funny—if I were wearing a pair of shorts, I wouldn’t give a fuck how far they’d ridden up, but in a dress, it was a different story.
We ended up chatting the entire way to the nightclub, and when she pulled into the curb, she gave me a bottle of water and told me to keep hydrated. I got out, making sure everything was in place before strolling over to the bouncer and giving him my name.
