Sweet Curves for the Marine

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Sweet Curves for the Marine Page 2

by Piper Anne


  “Who am I to disappoint a beautiful lady.” Ethan grabbed the hem of his shirt and whipped it over his head in one move. Her eyes riveted to his chest, her lips parting as her lids fell halfway. He worked out. He looked good. And for the first time in a very long time, he was damn glad he spent so much time lifting. It was worth it to see the lust on her face right now.

  She let out a low breath that sounded a lot like a whistle. “You… um, well… I. Do you… do you dance?”

  Ethan ran a hand down his abs and gave a small shake of his head. “No. Not at all. Two left feet, right here.”

  “I could eat tacos off that body.” Her eyes hadn’t left his pecs, but she snapped to attention as the words fell out of her mouth. “Oh, that was not appropriate of me to say. I apologize.”

  Oh, hell, he wanted to know all about how much she liked his body. “I’m definitely not offended. In fact, I’d love to hear more.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Well, Mr. Ego, I’m sure you would, but sadly, I have to get back to work.” Her lips parted and it was all he could do to hold himself back from kissing her. God, he wanted to so badly.

  Ethan straightened out his shirt and slipped it back on. The thought of her walking away right now made him antsy. “I came to see you.” He thought about what the waitresses had said about the creepy notes and a lick of dread lit him up. She didn’t know him from Adam. How could she be sure he wasn’t the perp leaving her notes? “I mean that with respect. You’re talented, and I’d love to take you out sometime.”

  She looked down and gave an apologetic shake of her head. “I’m sorry to have to disappoint you, big guy, but I’m not on the market. Or the dessert table.”

  Fuck. He’d considered he might have competition. Fine. Bring it on.

  “I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

  She huffed lightheartedly and stepped back. Her arms feel free of his hands as she moved easily away from him. He stayed where he was. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Your man would put a ring on it if he was serious.”

  “Seriously? Please. Maybe a man isn’t the reason. I’m just not… interested.”

  Ethan crossed his arms over his chest and nearly rolled his eyes. “I have a hard time believing that considering you were about to eat tacos off me.”

  She put her hands up, palms out. “Fair enough. You’re sexy as hell; there’s no denying that. But I don’t have time for a man right now, sweetheart. I have a business to run.”

  He laughed. “It’ll be time well spent. Trust me.”

  Goosebumps lit his skin as she trailed a finger in a little circle on his chest. “Listen, you go enjoy those tacos before the next show starts. Have a good night now, you hear?”

  With a flutter of her long, thick lashes, she turned and sauntered off behind the stage. He wanted to follow her, but he held his ground and watched her every second until she was gone. He wasn’t going to scare her. He wanted to earn her attraction and her trust.

  He had to up his game.

  Good thing he’d never, ever been afraid of a challenge.

  He sauntered back out to the lobby just as the thump of music announced another show was about to begin. The lobby was deserted again as he made his way to the front door. A flash of white caught his eye.

  There, on the rear haunch of a horse with chippy red paint was a folded note. Ethan plucked it off and steeled his jaw. The words were sloppy and heavily slanted to the right, as if the perv had hurried to write them before dashing out the door.

  Back off asshole. She’s mine.

  Chapter Three

  Claire tapped her foot as she waited by the counter at ACE Security. She’d been standing here for eight minutes and no one had yet shown up to help her.

  She’d been up all night thinking about the creepy notes and her fuzzy security system. She’d reviewed footage at the club early this morning and, as usual, the playback was nearly impossible to decipher. She couldn’t in good conscious continue without a working system. Her employees were too important to her.

  With a sigh, she clanged the little bell on the desk again and drummed her nails on the counter. It was sweltering, even inside the air-conditioned office. Her patience was melting as quickly as her lipstick.

  “This is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself. Finally hearing signs of life in the back room, she leaned over the counter. “Excuse me? Hello?”

  A young man, no more than a teenager, really, moved around in the back, his ears covered by headphones, his head bopping to whatever he was playing on the phone in his hand. Claire looked up at the ceiling and reined in her temper. She’d paid this company thousands of dollars to install her security system and cameras. They should be bending over backwards to take care of her.

  She heard the bell above the door jingle behind her, but she didn’t turn to look as she stormed to the end of the counter, lifted the divider and let herself inside. Striding to the unsuspecting kid, she grabbed ahold of his headphones and whisked them off his head. He jerked and nearly fell over, both hands going out in a gesture of surprise.

  “What the hell, lady?”

  “You’ll watch your mouth with me. I’ve been waiting out there for over ten minutes while you have your little dance party back here. Where is your manager?”

  The kid gave a lopsided grin and snatched his headphones back. “I am the manager.”

  “No,” Claire shook her head. “I’ve dealt with Brad in the past. Where is he?”

  “He sold out a few months ago. You get me now.”

  Claire hitched a brow. “Oh, is that right? Well, let me tell you what I’ve got. I’ve got an eight-thousand-dollar security system that’s decided to stop working, and a service warranty good for five years that says it should be promptly fixed. Yet, I can’t seem to get anyone at this company to call me back for over a month now. Therefore, I’d like you to get your ass to the Sweet Curves burlesque to check it out, or you can cut me a check for eight thousand, forty two dollars and sixty five cents so I can go somewhere that’s actually worth a damn.”

  “Actually,” a deep male voice interjected. “You can write out another for fifty-six hundred to Mrs. Belland over at the Handi-Mart who is having the exact same issue.”

  Claire’s mouth went dry as she gave to man behind her a long once-over. It was him! The sexy mystery man who watched her dance nearly every night. He wore a dark blue tee-shirt snug to his body, form-fitting Wranglers that showed off the bulge of his thighs and a thick leather belt. His dark hair was finger-combed back, the ends curling behind his ears. Goodness, had she ever seen eyes that blue?

  The kid shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll take that up directly with Mrs. Belland.”

  “Too late,” the man said. His eyes sparked heat. “She’s hired me to fix your mess. I’d like the records on her system.” He pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to the kid, who glanced at it before promptly disappearing into the back room again.

  Claire realized she was staring. Snapping her mouth shut, she gave a shy grin.

  He gave a polite nod, his eyes lighting up. “I’m sorry to overstep. You were first in line.”

  She waved a polite hand. “Don’t give it another thought.”

  His eyes worked her up and down and Claire swore she felt the heat of his gaze like a physical touch. If he could work her up that hard with just a look, what could his hands and lips do? She folded her hands in front of her and looked away before her thoughts got out of control.

  If he’d recognized her, it didn’t show. Then again, she wasn’t wearing a wig and her natural blonde hair was twisted into a braid over her shoulder. Her face was free of makeup save for some mascara and clear lip gloss, and her yellow gingham sundress was a far cry from her scanty burlesque costume. No way would he recognize her as the dancer he saw on the stage so often.

  “Is there some trouble going on at Sweet Curves?” He rested his forearms on the counter. There was
genuine concern in his expression. She didn’t know him from anyone—he was just another red-blooded man that came to the club for some drinks and eye candy. She shouldn’t tell him anything… yet something about him was sincere and made her feel comfortable.

  Safe.

  “Nothing we can’t handle.” She gave her best southern girl grin.

  “I heard some talk when I was there the other night.”

  Her grin faded. “You did? What kind of talk?”

  “One of the dancers is getting threatening messages.”

  “Oh, well. Like I said, it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

  She licked her lower lip, watched as he watched her. His nostrils flared a little, his pupils going wide. Her body responded as goosebumps raced over her forearms and her nipples hardened inside her dress. Damn, a man like this would be fun to take to bed. Her entire body heated. Even her scalp tingled as if he were running his hands through her hair. It was one thing to observe him behind the façade of her burlesque outfit, wig and glasses and quite another to be this up close and personal with him.

  He slid a big hand lazily to her, a wicked grin pulling his delectable lips. “Ethan Donnelly. Private security.”

  “Oh,” the word dropped from her lips. She could definitely see it. He was built like a man who could kill someone with his pinky fingers and call it a day. Broad shoulders, thick biceps and a chest with definition she could see through his soft tee-shirt. His abdomen looked tight beneath the form-fitting fabric, narrow waist and slim hips hugged by worn denim.

  “Nice to meet you. Claire Reva.”

  “Claire.” Her name dropped like a prayer. “You look terribly familiar… Claire. Have we met?”

  “Trust me, sweetheart, if we’d met, you’d remember.”

  Her cheeks heated at the flirty response as it flew from her mouth. What was happening to her? She was never bold with men outside of work. Her personal life was just that, personal. Men didn’t respond to her the same way outside the burlesque walls. When she was sexied-up, with a full face of makeup and her boobs adorned with sparkly pasties, men fell over themselves for her attention. When she was like this, in regular clothes, with her hair and face natural, men rarely looked at her twice.

  Her mother always said men would only want a girl like her for one thing, and that was because they pitied her. Watching out for “chubby chasers” had been a daily warning from her mother’s lips to Claire’s adolescent ears, and she’d never been able to shake off the feeling that she just wasn’t good enough unless she was giving men what they wanted.

  So, she kept the sexy stuff for the stage, and kept her pride in her everyday life.

  Yet here was Ethan, all buff and sexy as all hell with an interested gleam in his eye.

  He ate her up with an appreciative gaze. A deep ache started between her legs, damn, just like that! She let out a small breath and shifted from one foot to the other.

  “Excuse me?”

  Both she and Ethan snapped a look at the clerk, who’d come back out with a folder in his hands. He shoved it at Ethan. “Here’s the information for Mrs. Belland.” He looked at Claire. “And I’ll send a tech out this afternoon to look at your system.”

  Ethan tapped the folder in the palm of his hand. “Don’t bother. I’ll take a look at it first and send you the bill for my time. You’ve had plenty of opportunity to help this nice lady out already.”

  Claire’s mouth fell open. Ethan slid a big, warm hand over her forearm and led her outside, holding the door for her as she stepped into the sweltering heat.

  “What’s your manager’s name? I’ll give a call and let them know that I’m stopping by.”

  “That’s not necessary.” Claire rolled her eyes at herself. Why had she said that? Of course, it was necessary. She had a stalker and the company she’d hired for security couldn’t be trusted. “I mean… it’s just that...”

  “You need me.” Ethan took her other arm and faced her, looking down at her with challenge in his eyes. “Just hush up and listen to me, okay? No arguing.”

  He was so hot, so magnetic that her insides were a jumbled mess. No wonder she didn’t want him around in any other form than a patron come for drinks and a show. She couldn’t think clearly with him this close. His brow fell and he cocked his head. “I swear we’ve met.”

  “Well, if you come to Sweet Curves often, you’ve probably seen me on stage. Plus, I own the place. The threatening notes are coming to me.”

  His entire body stiffened. He looked as if he were about to say something, but closed his mouth and tried again. “I come more often than I probably should. I enjoy watching the shows. And… the tacos.”

  A breath rushed out of her. “Yes, the tacos. Seems we recently had a conversation about them.”

  He looked thoughtfully confused. “Really? Did we?” His hand slid down her arm, his fingers trailing to her wrist and then up the sensitive inner flesh of her forearm. Claire shivered at the new type of heat he was drumming up in her.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “You didn’t want tacos.”

  A shadow of a grin crossed his mouth, his eyes turning hungry. Predator. Prey. Oh, God. He cupped her face, his thumb trailing her jaw before sweeping softly over her lower lip.

  “What did I want?”

  “Dessert. You wanted dessert.” She could barely think. Her chest was tight, her breathing fast. Her breasts ached for his hands; her body lit up to feel him on top of her.

  Suddenly, he forced her chin up as his lips came down on hers, devouring her mouth as a shock of white-hot desire streaked through her body. She moaned and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in. Needing the press of his kiss—needing him inside her.

  Ethan pulled away just enough that the wash of his hot breath touched her kiss-swollen lips. “You curvy, beautiful goddess. Selima.”

  He mesmerized her and she felt transfixed. “My name is Claire.”

  “It’s a beautiful name, but the only thing I want to call you is mine.” He growled the words. “And no one messes with what’s mine.”

  Chapter Four

  Ethan didn’t want to let Claire go.

  She was shocked by his possessiveness, but she didn’t protest and that flamed his need for her even more. They needed each other and he was glad she didn’t resist what they were feeling for one another.

  Oh, she wanted him. He didn’t miss how her nipples perked inside her dress, or the way she angled her body into him. The way she’d melted into his kiss had his cock rock hard. He couldn’t believe his good luck in finding Selima and Claire were the same. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d known her, and the attraction he’d been feeling was off the charts. No wonder, because the woman he’d been wanting all along had been standing right there in front of him.

  He waited until she’d gotten into her SUV and pulled away from the curb before following her to Sweet Curves. The parking lot was empty as they pulled in. She looked at him over her shoulder as she got out of her vehicle, almost like she was checking to see if he was still there. His chest swelled. He couldn’t wait to get her inside, to be alone with her. To do what he could to keep her safe. Claire unlocked the back door and he pressed a hand lightly to her back as he held the door open and she slid inside.

  The hallway was dark save for an overhead light that had been kept on low. She shouldn’t be walking in here in the dark like this. Anyone could be waiting for her. The thought made the pulse in his temple tick up. They walked in silence to an office, where she flicked on the lights and then set down her purse. Her lashes flicked nervously, and she glanced at him and then looked away.

  “Here’s the monitor for the security system. It shows feeds from all the cameras in the building. There are six inside cameras and two cameras outside, one over each door.”

  Ethan lightly touched her hand and urged her to look at him. Her body was tense, her expression serious.

  “Do I make you nervous?” He moved his thumb over the back of her hand. “I
t’s not my intention.”

  A wobbly grin crossed her pretty mouth. “A little.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Claire.”

  She moved closer, her eyes dropping to his lips. “I know.”

  He gathered her in even closer, his hands crossing over her back. Her skin was so smooth, so warm. Fuck. Their eyes met and a shock went through him. Her lips parted, her expression slightly surprised as if she’d felt it, too.

  “We don’t open for three hours, so feel free to— “

  “Kiss you. Touch you. Make you feel amazing. Make you mine…”

  A hard breath flew from her lips. “Ethan, I don’t normally do this.” Her fingers closed around his forearms as she pressed herself firmly against his chest. “You make me feel like this is normal. Natural.”

  “Define, this.”

  “This! Wanting you… needing you. I don’t even know you.”

  He dipped his head, so his lips were against her ear. “Let’s fix that because I want nothing more than to know you. All of you. Repeatedly.” He crushed her breasts against his chest and claimed her lips. She opened for him as he swept his tongue along hers and deepened the kiss. Their chests rose and fell hard, his hands smoothing over her back to the soft, generous curve of her hips. Ethan groaned as he ran his palms over her curves. God, he wanted her naked and spread out for him. Right now.

  This rush of heat, of lust and wanting and yearning could only happen between two people meant to be together. He never used to believe it. But Claire made a believer out of him.

  Eying the room, he took in the large white desk, and a walnut table and chairs against the far wall. On the opposite side was a plush, comfy looking gray loveseat with a red throw and pillows.

  Perfect.

  He broke the kiss and led Claire to the sofa. Her eyes widened as he positioned her back against it and gave a gentle push until her bottom fell to the cushion. “Lie back,” he commanded, and she did so immediately, pushing herself up so her head rest against the arm. The hem of her skirt fluttered around her smooth thighs. He wet his lower lip with his tongue, catching a glimpse of her white panties. Jesus, it was going to take all his restraint to make this last.

 

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