by Brie Paisley
But then, I remember how closed off he is, and how he shuts down every single time I ask him about his past. Dropping my gaze to the floor, I pray that I’m not making a horrible mistake by falling for him.
It’s not like I can stop it from happening now anyway.
Walking back towards the locker rooms, I open the door, and instantly dread being here. I used to love coming to work and talking with all the girls here. The Gentlemen’s Club was a place where I felt free, and it was once a second home.
But in the past year, I’ve felt like this place is just a job.
I don’t enjoy dancing anymore. I don’t even like taking off my clothes for the clients. Honestly, I hate being around drunk clients now. Before, I liked it, because it was so easy to take what I wanted.
Now, it makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it.
Looking around the room, I search for Margo, the club manager, to let her know I can’t do this anymore. There’s a huge lump in my throat simply thinking about getting ready for the stage. I don’t even want to think about how Sebastian practically avoids me like the plague every time I go up on stage either.
Kendra said Weston’s only hard limit was her working here. Could it be the same for Sebastian, too? Shaking my head, I push that thought right out of my mind. It seems ludicrous to think Sebastian doesn’t want me dancing anymore. He doesn’t seem like the type to try and control me that way.
Dropping my bag down by my vanity, I quickly walk out of the room, searching for Margo. I pass by the bouncers and a few other girls working tonight, but Margo doesn’t seem to be here. It’s only, when I stop in front of Sebastian’s office door, that I realize she’s probably at the new club. It’s not a secret that Viktor and Sebastian are opening a new club, so it makes sense that Margo would be there, helping get it ready to open within the next few weeks.
Pushing out a sigh, I knock on the door, knowing what I need to do. Hearing his gruff voice, telling me to enter, I swallow hard, hoping this conversation goes the way I need it to. Opening the door, I walk inside, and my gaze instantly finds him. He’s sitting behind his huge desk that dominates the room much like he does. I shut the door behind me, and I stand still, waiting for him to realize I’m here and ready to quit my job.
After a few moments pass, it’s clear he’s busy. His head is down, and he’s frowning. From where I’m standing, I can clearly see his jaw clenching. My heart thumps hard in my chest, and my stomach drops, realizing this is not the best time to have this conversation. Deciding to come back later, my head falls forward, hating that I have to make myself work for one more night.
“Trixie? How long have you been standing there?” My hand falls from the door handle, as I turn around to face him. He’s getting up, quickly making his way towards me, as he asks, “What’s wrong?”
One of the best things about Sebastian, is his uncanny way of knowing when something is wrong, even if I don’t say it outright. My dread must be showing as well, and I let out a heavy sigh, before admitting, “I can’t work here anymore. I just … can’t do it.”
The weight on my shoulders suddenly evaporates, as if this is the one thing I needed to do to make myself feel better. I feel so much lighter, and I know deep down, I’ve made the right choice. And that’s the very moment, I see the concern in his eyes change to delight and relief.
Narrowing my gaze, I ask, “You’re happy about this?”
“Yes,” he answers, as if that simple answer is all that’s needed.
A sudden rush of anger washes through me, because here I am, thinking he’s going to be upset I’m quitting without a notice, but he’s happy about it? “Why are you happy I’m quitting?”
He’s standing a few inches away from me, but I feel as if a mountain is between us. It comes on so fast, that I have to step back from the intensity of it. As he clenches his jaw, I shake my head, knowing he doesn’t want to answer me. “You know, this bullshit of ignoring me is getting real old, real fast.”
“You’ll do well to remember who you’re talking to,” he harshly warns, but I’m done caring.
“That may work in the bedroom, but you know damn well, you do not control anything else about my life.”
Pure dominance rolls off of him in waves, and I know I’m walking on a thin line. It’s one thing to think how I am, but it’s a whole new game, saying it out loud. However, I don’t regret what I said, because it’s the truth.
As we both stand still, it’s clear to me that he’s not willing to back down, or tell me what he’s thinking. Is it too much to ask for him to be honest with me? Shaking my head, my stomach drops, knowing we may never get past this part of our relationship, or whatever we are.
Rolling my eyes, I start to turn and leave, but he grabs my hand, jerking me back into his chest. “Ty moy, vot pochemu,” he says, but I push him away, knowing why he said it in Russian.
He doesn’t want me to know what he said.
Hurt and anger flow through me, hating he does this to me. Pushing away from him once more, I’m surprised, when he lets me go, and just as I’m about to walk out of his office, Margo magically appears. My irritation is getting the best of me, so I suck in a deep breath, trying to calm down.
“Oh, hey. Did you tell her the good news yet?” Margo asks him, and I frown, having no clue what she’s talking about.
“No, not yet.” His intense gaze finds mine, as he states, “I’m promoting you as the new manager, since Margo is going to manage the other club. She’s here to train you to make sure you’re ready, when she officially transfers.”
Is that why he was happy I was quitting as a dancer, or is there more to this? Either way, I know this is a good opportunity. When I got my degree, I never wanted to have a desk job. I’ll do better on the floor, working with my hands and on my feet.
This is the perfect job for me.
“Do you accept?” Sebastian asks, interrupting my thoughts. “We’ll talk about your pay and your new contract later,” he adds, and I suddenly have a flashback of when he asked me to be his submissive.
Even if I’m pissed at him, I still want to work. That’s one of the main reasons why I held off on quitting as a dancer. I’ve grown, since I first started working here, and dismissing this job would be a mistake. Glancing at Margo, she gives me a single nod, and then I turn back to Sebastian.
“Yes, I accept.”
Feeling as if he wants to say something more, I don’t move, until Margo cuts in. “Alright, good. Let’s get started. You have a lot to learn.”
Having no choice, but to follow her, I give Sebastian one final glance, and then trail behind Margo. As I hear the office door shut, I have a feeling him and I are far from done with this conversation.
One week later
Gazing at my reflection, I wonder what Sebastian’s reaction will be, when he sees me. This past week has been difficult to say the least between us. With all my time focused on training for my new position, and then Sebastian working all the time at the new club, our time together has been strained. Not to mention, we’ve yet to have a chance to discuss what really happened, when I quit, and then accepted my new role.
However, I’ve missed him terribly, but I also understand why we haven’t had much time for each other.
Moving away from the mirror, I try once more to finish zipping up my dress. Hearing a knock on my door, I give up, and then make my way to answer it. Opening it up, my heart jumps, seeing him for the first time in a week. While it’s been nice to work with Viktor again, I’d much rather see Sebastian at The Gentlemen’s Club.
It’s hard to remember how to breathe, as he stands before me, wearing a tux that looks like it was made just for him. As my eyes take him in, I realize a week has been way too long. Once I finish ogling him, I finally notice he got a haircut, too. Making it to his green eyes, I smile, noticing his smirk. “Hi.”
Standing still, as he looks me over from head to toe, my stomach dips. I’ve missed that intense gaze, traveling a
ll over my body. I’ve missed everything about him. “You look …” He stops for a moment, and I wait impatiently for him to finish. “Utterly breathtaking.”
The dress I chose has an emerald silk skirt, and the top has short sleeves with a flesh colored mesh with black embroidery flowers on it. When I first saw it, I instantly knew I had to buy it. The green reminds me so much of Sebastian’s eyes, and it was the first, and only time, I bought a dress so quickly.
Stepping back to let him inside my apartment, I ask, “Could you help me?” Turning around, I state, “This zipper is stuck or something.”
Pulling my curled hair over my shoulder and out of his way, I turn my head towards him, as he walks up behind me. My breath hitches, seeing how attractive he is in the suit. I’ve seen him dressed up plenty of times, but the tux is something he should wear all the time.
Once he reaches me, one hand is placed on my shoulder, while the other slowly zips the dress. Once he’s finished, his hand lingers for a moment on my back, before glancing at me. The moment between us intensifies the longer we hold gazes, and I swallow hard, as his eyes drop down to my lips. When he glances back to my eyes, I want nothing more than for him to lean down a bit closer and kiss me.
However, he never makes a move to do so.
I’m not sure what’s holding him back, but I decide to take the first step forward. “I’ve missed you,” I whisper, hoping my admission doesn’t send him running.
To my utter shock and surprise, his eyes soften, as he caresses my face tenderly, and then says, “Me too.” I’m not sure, if he meant to say it or not, but knowing he’s missed me, sends my heart into overdrive. As I lick my lips, he lets out a deep breath, as if he’s trying to keep himself in check.
I, on the other hand, can’t stand it any longer. “Please, kiss me, sir.” I plead, begging him with my gaze.
Before I can take in my next breath, he turns me around, so that I’m facing him, as his mouth crashes into mine. His tongue dives deep inside my mouth, and I moan loudly, loving every bit of his dominance. As one of his hands moves to the back of my neck, angling me how he wants, the other rests on my hip.
Placing my hands on top of his, he kisses me, like a man possessed. He controls every single piece of me, leaving nothing but desire and want behind. He completely consumes me, and I’ve never felt more alive.
All from one kiss.
When he pulls away, it takes me a moment to open my eyes and get my bearings. But the moment I do, my pussy clenches with a need for him so strong that I have to tighten my thighs together.
“We should go, or we’ll be late,” he claims, dropping his hands, even though it’s clear he wants me, too. It’s impossible not to notice his cock, hardening in his pants.
Nodding, I drop my gaze, hoping my disappointment isn’t showing. Keeping my eyes away from him completely, as I grab my small handbag, I walk towards the door. As he does the same, I still refuse to meet those green eyes. If I do, I’m afraid every single emotion I’m feeling will come out.
I know he’s not ready to hear any of it.
Shutting the door behind us, he takes my hand, and as I look at our joined hands, I wonder how much longer I can go on like this. How long am I going to ignore and push down what I feel for him, because I’m scared of his reaction, and not to mention, will he reject me? How much longer can I really keep doing this?
Sadly, my answer is what worries me the most.
I don’t know …
Arriving at the hotel for the gala, Sebastian and I quickly find ourselves among a crowded room, full of the city’s most influential citizens. I could care less about the rich assholes here, but I’m trying my best to keep this fake smile on my face, as I watch my mother and father walk around the room, pretending to be the perfect hosts.
Don’t get me wrong, my father is a good man, but my mother … she’s someone that will do anything, and I mean anything, to keep up the fake persona. I’ve always been closer to Dad, and a part of me wonders, if my mother hated that. Either way, I’m trying my hardest not to say fuck it and leave. I’m here for Dad, so I have to at least try to have a good time.
Taking two glasses of champagne from the waiter, as he walks by, I take a sip, making sure to give it to Sebastian. If I don’t drink from his glass first, he’ll simply hold it all night, refusing to take even a sip. Plus, it’s become another one our unspoken requests that I do. Feeling his gaze on me, as I drink from my glass, I don’t dare look at him. If I do, I fear my bravado will falter, and he’ll see right through me.
And of course, that’s the very moment my mother spots us.
“Oh, hell,” I mutter, turning towards Sebastian. Taking his glass away, he frowns, as I down the entire glass in one gulp. Doing the same to my own glass, I quickly place the empty glasses on another waiter’s tray, as he walks past us, before I claim, “Whatever she says, just ignore her. That’s what I do.”
His confusion is written all over his face just as Mommy Dearest approaches us. “Beatrice, darling. It’s nice to see you with a date. Although, I am surprised. I just knew you wouldn’t do as I asked, yet again.”
Pushing out a breath, I clench my jaw, before saying, “Nice to see you too, Mother.” It’s hard to keep my tone of voice even, and I hope she doesn’t catch onto the bitterness laced in my words.
Thankfully, Sebastian must sense how agitated I am, since he takes that very moment to wrap his arm around me. Of course, Mother notices. I’m not sure anything can get past her. “And you are?” She rudely asks him.
“Sebastian Matvei,” he sweetly says, as he holds out his hand. Once Mother takes his hand, he adds, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Rolling my eyes, I wonder if he knows flattery will get him nowhere with her. “Matvei, you say? Any relation to Viktor Matvei?”
“Don’t answer that,” I cut in, knowing where she’s going with this. She knows Viktor, because I never once bothered to keep my job, as an exotic dancer, a secret.
The second she found out the name of the club, she took it upon herself to find out who owned it. I’m not sure why she did any of this, but what I do know is, if Sebastian answers, it’ll open up a big can of worms that I’m not ready to hear. My mother can be downright hateful for no reason, and I don’t want Sebastian anywhere near her hatred.
Her eyes snap to mine, as she states, “It’s rude to interrupt, Beatrice. Didn’t I teach you anything?”
My heart races, as my face flames. Embarrassment and utter shame rush through me, even though she’s doing this on purpose. Every single time I’m around her, it never fails for her to put me down and make me feel, as if I don’t mean anything to her.
I feel worthless.
“If you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Harrington, I promised Trixie a dance.”
My gaze finds Sebastian, because he never promised me anything. As he leads me away from my mother, I realize that he just flat out lied to get me away from her, and I wish I had my phone out to capture the look on her face. She’s shocked, not only because Sebastian dismissed her, but because he called me Trixie. Mother hates that name, and she never fails to tell me so.
Letting a smile cross my face, I sigh in relief, as he swings me out and pulls me in close, once we reach the dance floor. “Burning” by Sam Smith begins to play, as Sebastian places a hand on my waist, and then takes my hand with his other one. We dance at a slow pace, swaying back and forth with the song.
After a few moments into the song, I start to sense my anger disappearing. I always try to ignore my mother, but sometimes, I fail. Glancing up at my savior, I gaze into his intense green eyes, as I say, “Thank you.”
He smirks, but I notice the happy glint in his gaze. “So, your mom is a real piece of work.”
Smiling, I shake my head, as I claim, “It’s alright. You can say it.”
“Say what?”
“She’s a complete and utter cunt.”
He lets out a chuckle, and I grin wider, loving the sound of it. “Well,
I didn’t want to be rude.”
“No, it’s really okay. She’s always been like that. Well, at least towards me.”
He nods, as if he understands, and then says, “I take it you don’t have the best relationship with her.”
Even though he says it as a statement, I answer anyway. “No, we’ve never gotten along. At least, not that I can ever remember. I was always closer to my dad. He’s the one who I went to, if I needed anything, and he never once judged me for what I wanted to do.”
“My father wasn’t very supportive either,” he claims, as he gets a faraway look in his eyes. “Both of my parents weren’t happy, when Viktor and I decided to move to the states, but my father, he was furious.” His gaze meets mine once more, as he states, “They eventually got over it, but I do understand, having unsupportive parents.”
As I hold his intense gaze, something changes between us. It’s almost as if the entire room disappears around us, and it’s just him and I. We’re just two people that understand each other on a different level that many either overlook, or just plain don’t take the time to see.
But I see him.
I see the real man that he hides behind the mask.
Not to mention, it’s nice to know he gets it. It’s a relief to know I don’t have to try and explain the history between my mother and me. He just knows.
Sucking in a deep breath, a sudden need to tell him how I feel about him comes over me. It’s like an urge, as if my body and mind are demanding I tell him. “Sebastian, I—”
“Mind if I cut in?” Jerking my gaze to the right, I grin, seeing my dad, standing beside us.
Stepping out of Sebastian’s grasp, even if I really don’t want to, I say, “Dad, this is Sebastian.” Turning towards him, I add, “This is my dad, Richard Harrington.”
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Sebastian says politely. I need to remember to ask him where he learned his manners from. He’s so proper sometimes, and it’s a definite change from when we’re in the bedroom.
