“When was the safe robbed?” He picks up the phone to call security and I push his hand back down. “When?”
“Last night.”
I laugh, though it’s not remotely funny. “I would have thought that last night was memorable enough that you would know I couldn’t possibly have stolen money from the safe last night.”
“What?” Rosie’s voice comes from the door. “Where were you.”
I turn and glare at her. “I was in his bed. I know that image doesn’t play well for you because of your obsessive little crush, but it’s still true.” I look back to Cole, “I didn’t do this.”
His eyes are now fixed on Rosie. “Who else knew Andrea’s code?”
“It’s in the employee files. Any supervisor could have looked it up.”
Cole pulls a binder off a shelf, flipping through some papers. “And you were the only supervisor on duty last night when the money disappeared.”
Rosie’s mouth falls open. “No, it wasn’t—not me.”
“Did you frame Andrea to get her fired? Steal from me?”
She looks trapped, and there’s a split second where I feel bad for her. But after what she’s done, a second is all she gets. I fling her own words back at her. “I don’t even know what to think of a person who would do this.”
“I didn’t.” She keeps shaking her head like she doesn’t understand.
“Where’s the money?”
She wilts, like every last speck of energy pours out of her. “In my locker.”
“Get out.” Cole says, voice made of steal. “Your things will be sent to you. If you ever set foot in this club again I will press charges.”
She swallows, looking back and forth between us. It looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. She just goes. Cole calls security to make sure she leaves. And then we’re alone, and the tension is still in the air.
Cole grabs me and pushes me against the wall. His lips are hard on mine, desperate. I push him back.
“What the hell was that?” I ask him, “You really think I could steal from you?”
“No.” He says, voice full of emotion. “Never. But there was proof. I couldn’t. There can’t be any exceptions.”
“We really need to work on you knowing when you’re allowed to break rules.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “I’m sorry. I was caught up in my own shit. After everything that happened last year, stealing is…it’s a thing for me. I promise that I’ll tell you why. It makes me lose any common sense. I should have remembered.”
I move away from him, across the office. I need distance from him right now. I can’t think when he’s so close to me, crowding my senses, dragging me into perfect oblivion with his kisses. “Do you have any idea how that feels? That you say that you love me and then to throw me out without a second thought? You weren’t even going to try to listen to my side of the story.”
“I know,” he says.
I take a deep breath, flexing my hands in and out of fists, trying to deal with the wealth of anger that’s building up inside of me. In the moment I was panicked, and now I’m pissed. “This is not a small thing.”
Cole takes a slow, even breath. “I know.”
“Are you going to say anything other than you’re sorry?”
“That I’m a raging moron, and I never should have let something like this get in my head. I should not have jumped to conclusions so quickly. I should never have asked you to leave.”
I nod. “Well, I’m still going to. I know you’re not asking now, but I think I need some time.”
“Andrea, please,” he says, taking a step towards me. “Please don’t go.”
“Give me a good reason to stay.”
He swallows, and I know from the look on his face that he understands that the next words out of his mouth will determine our relationship. “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other. History, the little details about our pasts that formed us. But I can tell you now, that I have never in my life met anyone like you. No one has ever made me feel like this—alive and whole and happy. I fucked up. God, I’m sorry, and I’ll probably fuck up again, but I swear that I will do everything in my power never to hurt you again.”
My breath stills in my chest, his words resonating deep within me. He makes me happy too. I choose my words carefully, emphasizing every one. “No matter what it is, you will never take your shit out on me again. Got it? You will always take the time to look at the whole picture before making a decision. If you can’t agree to that, I’m done.”
“I swear.” I’ve barely finished speaking before he’s agreed.
“And you still love me?” I ask.
“I never stopped loving you.”
Heat roars through my body, and even though I’m still pissed at him, I want him. I want his hands on me. I want the proof of his words. “Good. Fuck me.”
I don’t have to tell him twice. He spreads me out on his desk, and we’re clawing at each other. It’s not gentle. We’re both still angry and it makes it hot, he slams into me in one stroke, thrusting so hard that the desk moves. I rake my nails down his back over his shirt, and he grunts at the sensation. Last night it felt like we were giving ourselves to the other. This feels more like claiming. He’s mine, I’m his.
Cole sucks his thumb and reaches down, circling my clit. The rhythm matches his thrusting, and the orgasm is so unexpected that it blinds me. It roars through me like a tornado, destroying me and leaving me to pick up the pieces. Cole shouts his own climax, pushing in deep and letting his come flood into me. It feels like fire, like a brand. I’m his, and he’s mine.
The quakes in my body slowly fade, and I find Cole leaning over me, eyes intense. “You know, you did steal something from me.”
“Oh? What was that?”
“You stole my heart.”
I laugh, and it feels good. The laughter erases the anger and the hurt. “You know that’s unbearably cheesy, right?”
“I do.”
“Good,” I pull him down to kiss me. “So what’s the price for that?”
“My heart?”
I nod.
“It’s a big one, but the only one I can think of that’s fair.”
“Tell me,” I say, smiling.
He’s smiling too. “Marry me.”
* * *
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Copyright © 2017 Penny Wylder
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.
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One
“Where did you hear about this place again?” I ask my best friend as we pull into the parking lot of Club Deep. It doesn’t look like a club. It just looks…like a building. Possibly an abandoned one. But maybe that’s the point? I don’t know.
Cosette shrugs as she puts the car in park. “I just heard some people talking about it the other day.”
“At another club?”
“At another club.”
I stifle the sigh that’s aching to come out of me. Cosette is a party girl. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I worry when she goes out without me. I’ve had one too many drunken phone calls asking for a rescue. So my expectations for this club are low. It’s probably not even really a club, just some indie place that’s trying to get started and will disappear off the map as quickly as it appeared. But really it doesn’t matter. Cosette isn’t just my best friend, she’s basically all I have left. She’s been family for longer than I can remember, and it’s felt like more than that since my parents died. If she wa
nts me to go with her to a club, I’m going to go.
Cosette is taking her time, fixing her make-up. Even longer than normal. “Are you meeting someone I don’t know about?”
“No,” she says way too quickly.
I fight to keep from rolling my eyes. I love her, and I will go to as many clubs as she wants, but I’m just about over getting there and being dumped for some guy she’s actually meeting.
“I’m really not meeting anyone, Libby. Let’s go.”
Autumn coolness is just now starting to set in, and I rub my arms, wishing I had worn something a little warmer. These pants are skin tight and thin, and the shirt reveals my stomach. I was going for sexy, but I think I should have opted for warmth. I just hope the temperature is better inside.
A security guard checks our IDs, and Cosette hands him a piece of paper. Did we have to have tickets to get in here? “Downstairs at the main bar,” he tells her.
The entrance is dark, but already I can hear thumping bass coming from down the stairs. Swirling lights curl up the steps to meet us, and the sounds of a crowd filter to us through the music. A loud cheer goes up just as I step onto the main floor, and my jaw drops.
The club is way bigger than I thought, multiple levels and balconies obvious as I look up. Three bars circle the main dance floor, which is packed with people. Cages are stationed around and hang just above the dance floor, each with its own sexy dancer. But all of that isn’t what makes my jaw drop. It’s what’s along the outer edges of the club. In areas lit up with spotlights, people are having sex. Like, actual sex. And not just that, kinky sex. The kind you only read about in bed under the covers where absolutely no one can see you. Every pairing that I can think of. A man is kneeling before a woman with her hands bound above her head, and I can see his tongue thrusting into her. A pair of men hold a woman between them and they’re both inside her at the same time. Heat runs through me, and I keep my eyes moving. Things I never thought I’d see in real life are here—someone being flogged and looking like they love it, a screaming woman orgasming as her partner uses a vibrator on her. Blood rushes to my cheeks and I look away from a woman who’s bent over a bench and being pounded into from behind.
Cosette grabs my hand and starts to pull me across the dance floor. I pull her back. “This is a sex club.”
“Good observation, Sherlock,” she smirks at me.
“Did you know?”
She just nods, pulling me along with her again. I’m too stunned to protest.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
We reach the biggest of the three bars and she gives me a look I know all too well. “Because, Libby, if you had known, you wouldn’t have come.”
“I might have,” I say defensively. But we both know she’s right. On any given day I would rather be at home than at a club, and knowing this was a sex club would have given me the perfect ammunition to bow out. I sigh. “Okay, fine. But I’m here now. Even though I don’t understand why.”
Cosette suddenly looks away, fidgeting like she’s nervous. Then she takes a breath and points behind me. At the end of the bar there’s a high stage with dancers, and a sign ‘Dancer auditions here.’
Everything clicks. The paper she handed to the bouncer. Downstairs at the main bar. Cosette is going to audition. I turn back to her. “You’re serious?”
“It’s good money, Libby, and you know I need it. I know it’s a sex club, but I’ll just be dancing. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was too nervous to come by myself.”
I bite my lip. I can’t argue with the fact that she needs the money. We both do. I have a job, but Libby has been struggling to find work, and neither of us have ever been able to find jobs as dancers, despite trying. Not a lot of those available in Phoenix. My parents weren’t rich, and they didn’t leave me much. Most of that is gone from just trying to survive. Taking a deep breath, I push down my embarrassment about the whole sex thing. It’s my deal. “Well, then, you better do a damn good audition.”
The relief on her face is almost painful. Did she really think I’d stop her from getting a job? Or not be supportive of her? After everything we’ve been through together, she should know better than that.
She heads over to where the sign is posted, where a man with a clipboard is standing. He takes her paper and smiles, the kind of generic smile you give someone when you’ve smiled too much for one day and are exhausted. I can only imagine what it would be like to run auditions in a club like this. I move down to the end of the bar so I can watch her. This isn’t exactly our kind of dancing—Cosette and I met in ballet classes when we were really young. But this can’t be that hard, the music has a beat so strong that it practically does all of the work for you.
Cosette replaces a dancer on the stage as the song changes, and she starts to move. Her movements are smooth and sexy. A little slower than the tempo of the song, but she looks good. That’s when I hear it. The man with the clipboard is yelling, “That’s not enough if you want the job.”
I see Cosette falter for a second, but she gets it back, until the asshole opens his mouth again. “You’re the last dancer of the day, sweetheart. You need to show me something amazing for me to want you.”
Are you serious? Who does this guy think he is? All he’s doing is getting in her head, and I can see it. Her movements are becoming more awkward. She’s second guessing herself. Well fuck that. We’ve been dancing together almost since we could walk, and she’s going to remember that. I stride past the clipboard asshole and lift myself onto the stage. Cosette opens her mouth, and I know that she’s going to ask me what I’m doing, but I don’t give her the chance. “Let’s dance. Show that asshole what we’ve got.”
I throw myself into the dance without hesitation, letting the music move me with it, just like Cosette and I used to do when we would take over the dance studio we attended and just dance for fun. Dance like it doesn’t matter, like there’s nothing but you and the music. We dance separately and then we dance together before moving apart again, and for a moment it’s just this. It’s like nothing bad has ever happened and we’re two girls in a basement choreographing dances to our favorite songs. But when I look out into the club, I can’t pretend that there’s nobody watching. Actually, a lot of people are watching.
Something old and buried comes roaring to the surface, and I stop dancing and start performing. A small cheer goes up from the people watching, and I glance over at Cosette to find her smiling, dancing better than ever. Who would have thought that I would have this kind of fun at a sex club? But it is fun. More fun than I’ve had in a long time. I’ve always loved having an audience, and now is no exception.
I feel eyes on me, and this is different than the crowd. A man is standing in crowd, towering over the people around him, and our eyes lock. They’re a pale crystal blue that I can see even from here, and they make me shiver. Totally in contrast with the way that smirk on his face makes me feel like I’m on fire. His eyes roam down my body and I let mine do the same: Button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and forearms that are rock hard. His shirt is tight, and it doesn’t do anything to hide the fact that he’s built. He has a face that’s all angles, gorgeous in a severe way, like almost too perfect to be believed. My body heats up again, and my dancing changes with it, becoming slower, more sensual.
Guys who are that good looking aren’t usually my thing. In the past I’ve gone for guys who look a little more rough around the edges and seemed like they’ve lived some life. But damn, for this man I’ll make an exception. He makes his way through the crowd, never taking his eyes off me. He stops next to clip board guy—who’s stopped his yelling at the both of us—and speaks to him quietly. Clipboard guy simply writes down something on the clipboard, nodding. Then the hot guy disappears into the crowd, one second there and the next, gone. I can’t believe I lost him, considering how tall he is. Damn. Oh well, that was never going to happen anyway. Story of my life.
I let the music filter back into my ea
rs, grabbing Cosette’s hand again and letting myself be free.
Two
“Hey. Hey! You can stop now.” I look down at the base of the stage to see the clipboard guy making an annoyed face at us. “The song is over.”
I’d been having so much fun that I hadn’t even noticed the music change. I grin at Cosette as we slide down. “I haven’t had that much fun in forever.”
Clipboard guy rolls his eyes, then looks at Cosette. “Congratulations, you got the job,” and then he looks at me. “You too.”
“Oh, no,” I shake my head. “I wasn’t auditioning.”
He shrugs. “My boss liked you, so you’re in if you want to be.” He hands us each a piece of paper. “I’m Randall, I handle the club talent. Everyone else has gotten a head start on the paper work, so if you want to come with me, we’ll get you started and give you a tour of the club.”
Cosette holds her hand up for a high five. “Good job! It’ll be fun…working together.”
Something in her tone makes me think that she doesn’t really think that, and that’s okay. I already have a job that pays my bills—even if just barely. This was fun, but dancing in a sex club? “Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got a job. Go fill out the paperwork, I’ll hang out until you’re done.”
I swear that Randall rolls his eyes again, but Cosette looks relieved. “Okay. I’ll find you when I’m finished.”
Randall is already moving towards the back of the club and Cosette has to sprint to keep up. Once she disappears, I realize just how thirsty all the dancing has made me. I head back to the bar to get a drink, but I don’t make it all the way there. A hand grabs mine, stopping me in place, and a deep voice says, “I can give you a tour anyway, even if you don’t want the job.”
Club Deep: The Complete Series Page 8
