Better When It Hurts

by Skye Warren

  “He’s going to want more information than that.”

  I make a face, frustration and a little bit of fear. “He doesn’t want information. He wants me to beg.”

  Candy smiles faintly. “I’m sure you can do it pretty for him. He’ll like that.”

  Sure, she’s not afraid of him. She’s the only one in the goddamn city who isn’t. He’s always been fair enough to me, but I’m also careful not to cross him. I keep my head down, my tips high, and don’t cause trouble. At least until Blue showed up.

  As if I’ve summoned him, he appears in my mirror, his expression severe. “Lola.”

  “Bye,” Candy says, hopping off her stool with a little wave.

  My eyes narrow. “Did you call him?”

  She blows me a kiss. “Thank me later.”

  I will definitely not be thanking her for this, but I can’t focus on her now. She’s flouncing out the door, and Blue is advancing on me like a shark scenting blood. His dark gaze takes me in from the failed makeup job to my bare feet. I’m still in street clothes—jeans and a tank top—but it feels like I’m wearing nothing the way he takes me in, like he can see every mark and ache underneath.

  “Who did this to you?” he growls.

  I don’t know what to tell him. All I know is that I can’t tell him the truth. I catch myself eyeing the gold watch on the vanity and force myself to look at the ground. “It’s none of your business.”

  Wrong answer.

  He backs me up until I’m flush against my vanity. Lip gloss and eyeshadow tumble to the concrete floor. The bulbs around the mirror illuminate his face with harsh light and stark shadows. He looks menacing—not a man to be crossed.

  He’s rough and hard, but when he puts his hand on me, he’s gentle. His finger traces the bruise on my cheek, careful not to touch where I’m swollen and purple. He trails down my neck and runs his forefinger along my collarbone. When he gets to my shoulder, where my shirt covers my skin, I let out a small whimper.

  His eyes darken, and he pushes my shirt aside to reveal a red abrasion. “Fuck.”

  “It’s just a customer,” I say quickly, like fighting the tides. “It happens all the time to girls like me. You know that.”

  “Not in my fucking club, it doesn’t happen. And not to you.” His voice is threatening, and it makes me feel somehow safe because I know he doesn’t mean this toward me. Even though he should.

  It’s my fault men hurt me. It has to be my fault, because they always, always do. “It’s nothing.”

  His nostrils flare. “I don’t like them touching you. I don’t even like them looking at you. But this? This isn’t nothing. This is way over the fucking line. Tell me exactly which bastard did that to you, because he’s a dead man.”

  My breath catches in my throat. This is everything that happened before. This is history repeating itself. The way it ended last time broke me. And it sent him far, far away. I want to rail against the inevitable, to hold him close. That’s selfish, though. To want to keep him. If he goes away, he’ll hate me even more, but he will be safe.

  “No,” I whisper.

  His lids lower. He leans in close, his mouth touching my temple as he speaks low. “I will find out who did this, and I will crush the fucking breath from his throat.”

  “Am I interrupting?”

  The crisp voice of Ivan breaks through the haze, and Blue straightens. His gaze remains intent on me. He doesn’t jump back to break apart like I do. I’m shoved against my vanity, completely trapped by two men who have power over me. I’ve fought so hard against this, against weakness, against ownership, but here I am again.

  Blue speaks through gritted teeth. “Someone hurt her.”

  Ivan walks casually into the room and leans against the wall. He studies Blue. “Was it you?” he asks with deceptive mildness.

  Surprise and anger flash across Blue’s face. “Fuck no.”

  “No?” Ivan says, not seeming concerned at all. “You seem to have taken an interest in our pretty girl.”

  “She’s not yours,” Blue growls.

  Ivan’s gaze flickers over our bodies, the way Blue has me pinned. “I suppose she’s not. I’m surprised someone would touch her if she belongs to you now.”

  A rough sound of fury comes from Blue’s throat. “They won’t touch her again. They won’t touch anyone again, as soon as she tells me who it is.”

  That makes Ivan raise an eyebrow. He looks at me. “Who are you protecting?”

  Blue. He would kill for me, die for me. He’d get himself locked up for me. He’s the only man who’s ever cared about me, and I can’t let him do that. He would put his life on the line to protect me—and I will do the same for him. I don’t do it with my fists, though. I do it with my body and my lies. I protect him with everything I have, even if it hurts him too.

  “It’s no one,” I say, my voice hoarse. “A man on the street.”

  Ivan cocks his head. “A stranger?”

  Not a stranger. “You don’t need to get involved.”

  In a sudden movement, Blue slams his hand against the wall beside me. “I’m already fucking involved, gorgeous. I’ve been involved since five years ago, and God help me, I can’t fucking stop.”

  Ivan doesn’t look surprised at this admission. “Even after she accused you of raping her?”

  Blue narrows his eyes. “I never hurt her.”

  Ivan shrugs. “She said you did.”

  “She lied.”

  “Then why would you believe her now?”

  Blue’s gaze snaps to me. “Is that what this is? Some kind of twisted payback? Some kind of game?”

  It’s not a game, but it’s better if he believes that. It’s better if he goes far away and never comes back. I shrug, copying Ivan. “So what if it is? You know I like it rough. You couldn’t give it to me hard enough, so I found someone who would.”

  I see the realization hit him like a blow, that I fucked another man after him. He pushes off the wall and stalks away from me, to the other side of the room. To the other side of the moon, for how far away he feels. He runs a hand over his head. “Fuck, Lola.”

  I smile, more comfortable now as Lola. As the seductress. The whore. “I told you we didn’t have anything special. I told you I wasn’t yours. You refused to believe me. That’s not my fault.”

  Ivan stands and straightens his suit sleeves. “It appears we have our answer. What she does on her own time is her business. Unless, of course, it interferes with my business.” His cool gaze meets mine. “Obviously you can’t work the floor like that. You have two days to get yourself cleaned up. Show up like that again and you lose your spot here.”

  He heads for the door.

  “Wait.” Blue puts a hand to his forehead. “No. This isn’t fucking right.”

  Ivan stops. “She told you she wanted it. You heard her.”

  Blue’s dark gaze meets mine, accusing and pain-filled and relieved all at once. “She’s lying. She’s fucking lying, just like she did before. I don’t know why, but I know I didn’t hurt her then. And I know she didn’t ask for this now.”

  I make one last attempt. “Why would I protect someone else?”

  Shock fills his eyes before he closes them. “You’re not protecting someone else.” He laughs without humor. “You’re not even protecting yourself.”

  His eyes snap open, and he walks closer to me. I look toward Ivan, hoping he’ll stop Blue. Hoping he’ll claim that I wanted this once more, that I’m just the slut I look like. Except he’s gone, apparently leaving me to my fate. And my fate is a seriously pissed-off Blue.

  “How fucking dare you?” he breathes.

  “I—”

  “No, not right now. I can’t even listen to your excuses right now. Your lies.” Pain flashes across his face. “All those years. I just need to—”

  He doesn’t finish his sentence, but I can fill in the blank when he drops to his knees. He pushes down my jeans, flinching at the bruise on the outside of my thigh. He
undresses me carefully, methodically, and I can’t stop him. I can’t tell him he means nothing. I can’t lie, not when he spreads my legs and looks at me bare.

  He swallows, and I hear it in the silence. “Gorgeous,” he murmurs, gaze trained on my pussy.

  Briefly, I wonder if someone will come in and interrupt us. And then I don’t care anymore because his warm breath brushes my clit, his hands grasp my pale inner thighs. He gives me a kiss that’s sweet, almost chaste if it had landed on my forehead or nose—anywhere except my clit. But it is there, and heat courses through me, shocking and sudden and strong enough to make me gasp.

  “This is the only way you’re honest with me,” he says, his eyes dark as they look up at me. “If this is what I have to do to get you to tell me the goddamn truth, then this is what I’m going to do.”

  I shiver from worry, from apprehension, knowing he’s right. Knowing he’s determined enough to do it. I don’t want to lie to him anymore, but the truth might break me.

  His tongue might break me, sliding down my slit, sending shocks of pleasure through my body.

  He fucks me with his tongue, shoving it inside me and then back out, lewd and slick and so good I almost cry. My hips want to thrust, but I’m held up by the vanity—it’s already shaking with the force of us. All I can do is hold myself still while he teases me into madness.

  Then he stops. “Why did you lie, Lola?”

  I’m half-dazed with lust, confused and needy. “Please.”

  “You want my mouth on you again, you’re going to tell me the fucking truth. Why did you lie to me? Who did this to you?”

  It’s a relief to realize he means the present—not the past. Still it’s hard to tell him. I can’t tell him, at least not until he leans forward to give my sex an openmouthed kiss. He slides his lips over me, grazes me with his teeth, makes me rock upward to reach for him.

  And stops again.

  I whimper. “God, Blue, please. I can’t take this, please.”

  “Then tell me what I want to know, baby. Tell me who put their hands on you.”

  His voice is hypnotic, and I’m almost there. At the brink of orgasm. On the verge of breaking down. “If I tell you, you’ll hurt him.”

  He doesn’t look surprised—or hurt or offended. It’s understanding that crosses his face, sympathy for me. “I know it’s hard. I know you’re afraid.”

  I shudder, because it’s so rare to be known that way. Only him. He’s the only one who’s ever tried. “It’s the guy you threw out that night. The one who was…hurting me in the VIP room.”

  His hands tighten on my thighs almost painfully, and I know he’s holding back violence. “We’ll look up the receipts and go through the security feed. We’ll find out who he is,” he says roughly. “He won’t touch you again, Hannah.”

  I flinch but don’t correct him. Changing my name won’t help me here. This isn’t a stage. “And then what? You’ll go after him. You’ll hurt him. You’ll…kill him. This isn’t some underground fighting ring.”

  “No, this is fucking real.”

  He already beat up Travis for touching me. What will he do when he finds out he attacked me at my home? “And then you’ll go to jail. How does that help anyone?”

  His expression is dark. “I’m not your father.”

  “Why, Blue? Because you don’t get caught? Is that what makes you different?”

  He shakes his head. “And you’re definitely not your mother. You’d never let a man bring you low.”

  “You think so? I don’t know what I’d do if you went to jail, Blue. If you went to jail for me. I don’t think I’d be able to survive it.”

  His expression is intent—and wondering. “You always take what I give you.”

  I can take the rough sex and cruel words. I can take him leaving. I can’t take knowing he’s in trouble because of me. I can’t take knowing he’s locked up. “Not that,” I whisper.

  I half expect him to walk away from me, leaving me bared and wanting.

  Instead he leans forward. This time he doesn’t stop. He licks my clit with a kind of tender ferocity, both gentle and insistent, until I’m shaking on the table and bottles rattle with the vibrations. “Blue,” I cry.

  He doesn’t pause, not even for words. He just licks and licks with a firmness that will never tire—between the two of us, I’m the one who breaks first. Climax washes over me in hard, almost painful waves, and I rock my hips against him, moaning helplessly into the empty room while the heavy beat of a dance song pounds against the walls.

  When he’s done making me come, he leaves.

  It’s only later that I notice the gold watch is gone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I don’t see Blue the rest of the night. Or the next.

  He has Oscar escort me home with strict orders not to come back to work. Of course I go back anyway, but Ivan has told the bouncers I’m not to work. Blue isn’t there.

  I’m worried about him. Did he take the watch?

  I know he did.

  He turned my own weakness against me, stealing what I’ve stolen. Except I only steal in mindless, desperate moments of stress. He is methodical and stone cold. What will he do when he finds the man who owns it?

  Mrs. Owens asks about the nice man who visited us. “Did you invite him over for tea?” she asks.

  I don’t have the heart to tell her no, but the truth is I don’t know if I’ll see Blue again. The oral sex he gave me may very well have been goodbye. He doesn’t owe me anything. I should be happy if he doesn’t hate me anymore—that should be reward enough.

  If he isn’t killing another man on my behalf, that will definitely be reward enough.

  It’s Candy who finally tips me over the edge. We’re talking on the phone in the morning, her voice tired after a long night of dancing. “Don’t fall for his bullshit,” she says in warning.

  “What?”

  “He’s going to feed you some line about taking care of you, protecting you, et cetera.”

  “He’s not feeding me any line, Candy. He’s not even speaking to me.”

  “That’s just because he’s busy being all vigilante. Men have one-track minds, you know. Once he’s done with that, he’ll come for you.”

  “What do you mean, vigilante? Have you heard anything?”

  She snorts. “I don’t have to hear anything. No one gets to touch you. Hell, he’d probably kick my ass if we did the Double Trouble routine.”

  Nerves twist my stomach. “He’s going to get himself in trouble. A guy like Travis isn’t going to take it lying down. He’ll tell the cops.”

  “Blue would rather be in jail than sitting at home, knowing that the asshole who hurt you was still walking around.”

  Fuck. “Well, I wouldn’t rather that. Don’t I get a say in it?”

  “Not really,” Candy says more softly. “It was sweet of you to try and protect him. I understand why you did it.”

  “And for nothing.”

  “Not nothing. Blue knows how much you care about him. It’s like a fucking declaration of love, you being like that. He understands that. He came from the same place you did.”

  Yeah, Blue did. He knows how little words mean. I love you. I care about you. They don’t mean anything. It’s actions that count—and protecting him, letting myself be hurt to keep him safe, meant the most. I was afraid for him to find out because he’d know how I felt about him. He’d use it against me.

  That was what men did, use things against me. Their bodies, their words.

  I expected that from Blue, but instead he just licked my clit until I came.

  “I need to find him,” I say suddenly, decisively. I need to convince him that Travis doesn’t matter. I’ll move out of this neighborhood to get away from him. Somehow I’ll do that, even if I have to accept Blue’s help.

  If he still wants to help me.

  I have to try.

  “He’s going to want you to quit,” Candy says. I can hear the pout in her voice. “Th
en who am I going to have to annoy at the club?”

  “Umm, all the other girls? And he’s not going to want me to quit. I mean, he is, but I’m going to say no.” That is, if he’s still a free man after whatever he does to Travis.

  “The other girls don’t stand up to me.”

  “That’s because you’re mildly terrifying.”

  “Thank you,” she says earnestly. “And he’s going to convince you to quit, just watch. Men are very convincing with their dicks. It’s why I don’t let them inside me.”

  I snort, thinking of Ivan. He may not have put his inside her yet, but he’s thought about it. “I’m not going to quit. I have to bills to pay.”

  “I mean, obviously he will help with that. I’m all for saying no, but if you’re going to let one fuck you…”

  “No, Candy. That’s not how relationships work.”

  “It’s how some relationships work.”

  I picture Blue with his lust and his anger, fire and ice. I remember him that last night at the club, the sweet way he kissed my clit before making me come. I don’t know how it can work while I’m stripping. I don’t know how it can work if I’m not. “All I know is that I want him. I want something real. For the first time in my life, I want something better.”

  * * *

  I push the glass doors open and send a small wave to the doorman. I expect him to give me that genial smile and press the button so the elevators work. Instead his expression is serious as he steps out from behind the desk.

  My stomach drops. Has Blue banned me from coming to his building?

  “Ms. Brown?”

  I almost feel like crying as I stare at the doorman who once believed I belonged. What does he think of me now? “That’s me.”

  “If you have a moment, I’d like to add you to our systems.”

  I blink. “What?”

  “If I can take down your information, I’ll add you to the system. That way I can give you a key card and the guards on other shifts will know you’re allowed up.”

  “Oh.” A question is forming, and I’m afraid to give it a voice. “Did something change? I mean, we didn’t do this before.”