by E. C. Land
I step into my office and narrow my eyes as I lock gazes with Brittney. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve missed you. Where have you been?” she whines, coming up to press herself against my chest. The sound of her nasally voice grates on my nerves.
“Avoiding you is what I’ve been doing. Get the hint, woman. I don’t want you.” I sneer, reaching out to grasp her wrist and pushing her away from me—none too gently.
“Well, you married me, so that has to mean something,” she snipes and yanks her hands from my grip.
“Yeah, it means I got shit-faced in Vegas and fucked up by marrying your gold-digging ass.” Is this chick trying to piss me off even more? Brittney already knows I hate her and want her to sign the annulment papers.
Glancing over to my little brother, Tristan, I notice him watching Brittney very closely. I wonder if she tried something with him before I got here. I wouldn’t put it past her.
“Whatever, Rémy. I know you don’t mean it. Besides, you’ll want to see this.” Moving to the couch against the far wall of my office, she snatches a piece of paper and hands it to me. “This is your baby.”
I lift the paper to see it’s an ultrasound. Scanning over it, I see it doesn’t even have her name on the sonogram. Does she think I’m some kind of idiot?
“Nice try, Brittney, but this isn’t even yours.” I smirk, tossing it back to her. “Now get out of my club and stay the hell away from me. I don’t want to hear from you unless it’s you giving me the papers.”
Shifting my focus to my brother, I ignore Brittney as she starts yelling. “Can you escort her out? Since I’m here, I might as well get some work done.”
“Gladly.” Tristan grins, stepping away from the wall, closing the distance between him and Brittney. “I’ll show my soon-to-be ex-sister-in-law the way out. And while you’re here, you might as well check on the new dancer. She’s really good. No wonder Madelaine hired her.”
Damn, that’s one thing I’ve missed this week while avoiding Diamond Dancers; seeing Cora dance. The night we were out, I didn’t miss the way her eyes locked with mine. If I’m being honest, mine locked with hers as well, and I couldn’t keep myself from staring at her throughout dinner. Since then, I’ve yet to see her and I’m wondering why. Maybe it’s because I’m attracted to her in a way I’ve never been with the other dancers.
And that’s not good.
I’ve got a rule.
No dating or sleeping with my employees.
Chapter Five
Corentina
I’m not a novice or some inexperienced newborn deer, and yet my limbs are shaking like I’m both of them. I’ve performed in front of crowds of ten, a thousand, and even ten thousand . . . yet opening nights are always the worst. When Madelaine told me tickets were almost sold out the other day, I know she was doing it to help boost my mood, but all it’s done has made me nervous. Crazy, and I know it.
In the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder if I’m nervous because of something else. Sure, opening nights are terrifying because they’re the ice-breakers in the dancing world. But I’m not an idiot. Félix isn’t the one who manages the dancers. That’s Rémy . . . the man I’ve been having dreams about. Vivid, sexy, downright dirty dreams. Fuck, just thinking about it takes my mind back.
“You look phenomenal,” Rémy tells me from my dressing room door. He’s standing on the inside, and the door is shut behind him.
Staring in the mirror in front of me, I put in my long, bedazzled earrings. “I might look great, but I feel like shit.” He knows I’ve felt like crap for the last few days.
“Then why are you working?” he questions, and I catch him coming closer to me in the mirror.
“Because I’m not sick, Rémy. We already talked about this, and if you’re trying to talk me out of working, you’re shit out of luck.” I stand up for myself, and he snickers from behind me. His hands trail over my shoulders, fluttering down over my corset. He halts for a minute over my breasts and a tingly feeling shoots through me. Fuck, he can’t be doing this right now. I go out for my routine in fifteen minutes.
“I’m not talking you out of anything, Cora. I only want to relieve some of your stress.” Rémy slides an arm behind my back and puts another under my legs. He lifts me and carries me over to the white leather couch in my dressing room and leans me over the back of it. He shoves my skirt up, grabs onto my black thong and yanks it down until it’s hanging off one foot, and brings his face closer to my pussy. His hot breath hits my clit, and I suck in a sharp breath.
“Rémy, we don’t have time for this,” I warn him.
“We have time for whatever I want. I’m the boss,” he grits before sticking out his tongue and dragging it in between my lower lips. I suck in a breath and arch my back out of instinct. He snickers against me and sticks his tongue inside my entrance. I’ve never had anyone do this before him, but I love it. It feels so good. He holds onto my hips and pulls his tongue out from inside me, beginning to French kiss my clit.
“Rémy, please don’t make me . . . I’m going to make a mess,” I moan out my request, but I know him too well, he’ll do what he wants. He always does what he wants.
He brings his lips away from my pussy for a second, but only enough to chuckle. “Have you ever considered that’s what I want? That I want your juices dripping down my chin? I need to taste you, Cora.”
His words cause my center to grow hotter, like a volcano moments from erupting. He dives back into sucking on my clit, and I writhe against his touch. Rémy growls against me, and the vibration adds an extra sensation, one that only pushes me forward on this pleasurable path.
Before I realize what’s happening, my entire body erupts into waves of pleasure. “Rémy,” I moan out his name, and he chortles against me, sucking my clit and my juices as they leave me. He rips his mouth from me after a few moments, and the clinking of his belt tells me what’s happening.
“I know you have to go on soon, but I can’t wait. I’m too fucking hard for you,” he tells me in a rugged tone as he shoves his cock into me. My pussy’s tight and I throw a hand over my mouth to hold back the moans. He doesn’t take it easy on me, and I love the way I feel. I’ve never fucked my boss before. I’ve never even fucked someone in my dressing room, but it’s the one place I screw Rémy more than anywhere else. It could be a kink for us, but who knows.
He grinds his cock into me so hard static shocks storm through my pussy. My eyes roll back into my head, and soon enough, I’m being swept away into more pleasure. He groans, growling as his own release comes, and no sooner than his release comes do I feel physically nauseous. He releases my legs and pulls out of me, and within seconds I know I’m not winning this battle with nausea.
I roll onto the couch, grab the waste bin, and the contents of my stomach come up. Rémy sits beside me and rubs my back soothingly as I get sick, and the way I feel is becoming hard to describe. I’m clammy but warm, nausea is something that’s becoming normal, and I can’t sleep for shit. The mere stench of certain foods causes me to vomit, and as soon as I’m finished vomiting, Rémy asks the one thing I think I need to do. “I know you wanted to wait, but we can’t keep doing this. Have you taken the test yet?”
I’ve had this same dream the last three days. Work, sex, pregnancy. It’s a bit much for me to take right now.
A knock comes on my door, and I turn back from looking at the mirror. “Who is it?”
“It’s only me,” Madelaine calls back.
“Okay, come on in if you’d like,” I tell her as I apply one last coat of lipstick.
She opens the door and shuts it behind her, makes her way through my dressing room, and has a seat on one of the white leather couches. They’re not fluffy or modern at all. They remind you of the Victorian-style couches, or the couches that would’ve been out in that era.
“You look beautiful.” Madelaine smiles brightly at me, and I look right at her.
“Thank you. So, I don’t look t
erribly nervous?”
“I never would’ve been able to guess. What’re you nervous about, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Shit. I didn’t think this through. “Being in a new place is always a bit nerve-wracking,” I tell Madelaine, but it’s not the full truth, and I think she can tell.
She cocks a brow. “I know we’re still getting to know one another, but what’s the matter? Something feels off.” God, her intuition is good.
I could lie, but Madelaine obviously has a good read on people. But this is a catch twenty-two. If I tell her the truth, this could be so awkward. I don’t know what to do. I really don’t.
“All right, something is clearly off here. Whatever it is, you can trust me with it.”
We stare at one another, and I blurt it out because I can’t think of how else to say this. Otherwise, I’ll chicken out. “I’m having sex dreams about Rémy.”
Madelaine breaks out laughing, and I mean breaks out. “Oh wait, you’re serious?”
I take in a deep breath and nod. “Dead serious.”
“Okay, so what’re you nervous about?” Madelaine stops laughing and is genuinely asking me.
“Mostly of making a fool of myself, then there’s the fact I have the world’s biggest crush on my boss, and if I do anything about it . . . it’ll ruin my reputation.”
“Fuck your reputation. You’re Corentina. Your name is like Tina Turner, or Adele if they were burlesque dancers. No one will care, so if you wanna see where this goes, then go for it!” Wow. Madelaine is a cheerleader. Here I thought she’d be the one to bring me back down to reality and tell me it’s a bad idea.
“Seriously?” I question, still in shock.
“Um yeah. Rémy’s out there in his section with Félix and Tristan. I’ll be there too after I leave here. So, if you want a shot with him, go be the confident bad bitch you are and show him what he’s missing!”
I blankly blink at Madelaine, waiting for the catch. “You’ve been so nice to me, but why are you telling me to go for this? Most other employers would say no fraternization between bosses and employees.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not like other employers. And Rémy is my brother-in-law. He’s so kind, and he has a track record with crazy women. You’re the first one I’ve met who seems kind, compassionate, and is sweet. Basically, I haven’t seen a bad thing from you yet, so of course, I’m gonna tell you to go for it.”
There’s a knock on the door. “Corentina, you’re up next!” the show manager calls from the other side of the door.
“Shit, I need to go, but thank you for the pep talk,” I tell Madelaine as I walk to the door.
“Of course, and Cora,” I turn my head to look back at her, “break a leg out there. You’re going to do great.”
Madelaine is a great person. Not only has she boosted my mood, but she’s given me a confidence boost as well . . . and going out on this stage . . . it’ll be my best performance yet. Rémy’s watching and I really want to impress him.
Chapter Six
Rémy
Taking a seat at the table reserved for my family, I sigh in relief. Tristan graciously took care of escorting Brittney out to the parking lot. The fact she’d seriously try to use a fake sonogram to pull me in says enough about the type of woman she is.
I’m going to have to do something else about the situation. Something’s gotta give when it comes to Brittney not signing the papers. I know she’s not pregnant with my child. Hell, I don’t think she’s even pregnant at all.
Deep in thought, debating what I should do next, I don’t notice Félix sitting across from me until he’s there.
“Didn’t know you were coming tonight.” He grunts.
“I wasn’t going to, but here I am. Thanks to someone showing up at our club unannounced,” I mutter, sipping on my scotch. “What are you doing here?”
“Madelaine wanted to be here ‘Opening Night’ for Cora and all.” He shrugs, surveys the crowd, and flags one of the waitresses to bring him a drink. “Tickets for tonight’s burlesque performance are sold out. It seems this woman will do well for the club.”
“Yeah, I suppose she will.” I knew tickets had gone quickly. We have a set number of clientele we can allow in each section of Diamond Dancers. Between the strip, burlesque, and full nude, we’ve always done well. Each section of the club has its own theme: the strip side of things is more pop culture with elegance.
The full nude is a smaller section and costs a mint to get in. This room is set up with small round tables. Each setup has two leather square armchairs. It’s meant to be about comfort while watching the show.
When it comes to burlesque, it holds a fifties vibe. Clientele is expected to dress with a certain etiquette to match the theme. The club’s dancers are free to choose their routines as long as it’s erotic and seductive. The point of the show is to keep clients coming back.
It’s one of the reasons we’re packed tonight. They know they’re in for a show. Cora was given the week to rehearse and get ready for her opening number tonight. My heart is pulsating in my chest, leaving me anxious to see what she’ll do.
“Finn and Olivia should be here soon,” Félix says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“They are?” I frown. I didn’t know they were coming. I was just there—why didn’t they tell me?
“Yeah, evidently, our sister’s craving some beignets and will only accept fresh ones from her favorite café here in New Orleans.” He chuckles, glancing behind me, and smiles when Madelaine approaches our table. “Everything ready?”
“Of course, Cora’s all set. I mean, the woman has performed in front of thousands of people—this is nothing compared to that.” She giggles, wrapping her arm around my brother’s shoulders and sitting on his lap. Normally we have a U-shaped booth, but with our numbers growing, we decided to change the booth to a table with chairs matching the rest of the room. It’s large enough for those who are here, and we can add additional seats when or if others come.
The music changes, and my gaze is drawn to the stage. For Cora’s performance, Madelaine suggested we go with live jazz. I didn’t have a problem with it as long as the band wasn’t in the way. My eyes are glued to the center of the stage, watching as the band plays a song I recognize, “Ain’t No Sunshine (When She’s Gone).”
The sax player picks up his tone as Cora makes her entrance. My cock thickens at the mere sight of her. She’s got her face shielded slightly with a top hat with pink feathers in the back. I grip my glass tightly as I take in the pink floor-length dress with black lace at the top and a bow right under her breasts. She moves gracefully around the stage, keeping a slow, entrancing momentum.
When she pulls a chair to the center of the stage, she lifts a black stiletto onto the seat. And oh, man, as she does this, the dress splits. Cora grasps the bottom hem and removes the rest of it while gyrating her hips.
She’s amazing, and as she stares at the audience, I swear she’s looking right at me—like she’s dancing for my eyes only tonight.
By the time she finishes her dance, I’m battling with myself to go backstage. Especially when she’s only wearing pasties, barely-there panties, a garter belt, and knee-high stockings. And damn, those come-fuck-me heels. I can imagine them digging into my back while I take her.
The lights dim, and then she’s gone.
“So, what did you think?” Madelaine asks, grinning like a loon.
“Have to say she’s definitely worth the wait.” Félix chuckles.
I nod in agreement. I don’t think words can describe the way she looks on that stage—the way she moved—entrancing everyone watching her.
“You would never notice how nervous she was tonight,” Madelaine says. “I don’t know why, though. She’s used to this kind of crowd.”
I wonder why she was nervous. Could it be because of me?
I know I’ve got a rule about being with employees, but damnit, I want her.
Madelaine leans forward w
ith a knowing smile. “You know, some rules are meant to be broken.”
Glancing from her to my brother, I see him grinning at me too. “She’s right. If you want something, you gotta go for it.”
Sitting back in my chair, I contemplate what they said. Checking my watch, I nod. The club closes in an hour. The cleanup crew doesn’t come in until morning, meaning I’ll have the place to myself.
Getting up, I smooth out my black button-up shirt and walk backstage, where all the dancers are preparing to head out for the night. I nod to Julian and the bouncers standing with him, waiting to escort the girls once they’re ready to go.
Weaving my way through the girls, I speak to them as they greet me. I find Cora sitting in front of a mirror wearing a vibrant red silk robe.
Cora’s gaze locks with mine in the mirror, and I clear my throat. “You did an amazing job up there tonight.”
“Thank you.” She smiles and twists to meet my gaze.
“I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink with me when everyone’s gone?” The question rolls off the tip of my tongue before I can stop myself.
Cora’s smile brightens. “I would love to.”
“Great. I’ll meet you at the bar in the burlesque room when you finish up,” I say, pivoting on my heel and leaving her to get dressed. I do have to handle a few things while I wait for her, and I want to get them done before having that drink.
Cora deserves my undivided attention, and I intend to give it to her.
Chapter Seven
Corentina
When he first asked me to sit down at the bar and have a drink with him, I thought I was in a dream. His eyes were raking over my body the entire time I was dancing, and it only got more intense over time. Rémy was like a lion in the African wilderness, and I was the gazelle. I don’t know how else to describe the way he was making me feel. Now I’m sitting at the bar, and he had to go in the back to take care of something. He assured me he’d be back soon, so I’ve been sipping my drink, patiently awaiting his return.
