Taunt (A Miami Lust Novella Book 3)
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“Wow, that’s a lot to take in all at once, Robert,” I reply.
“Yes, it is. But it secures the future that you’ve dreamed of, and a steady influx of marketing funds for the radio station that should help us break into the top ten of our market,” he reveals excitedly. “It’s a win-win for us all.”
“And this all requires me to move my office across the street?” I ask, still confused on that major point.
“Yes, they insisted on it,” he points out. “They would like you to learn all of the ins and outs of their business to build their brand honestly and correctly. They feel you need to be on site to do that, and I agree. The best branded products are when the people live and breathe the brands.”
“Yes, but how do you live and breathe a strip club?” I ask. “Never mind. I really don’t want to know, but I guess I’ll figure that out. So, when do I move?”
Chapter 11 – Dante
“SO, SHE’S MEETING YOU here this early?” Brooke asks. We are standing in the back parking lot because the club isn’t open yet and Ava will be entering her office here from the back. It’s almost 7:00 am, and I bet Brooke is getting hungry. I did promise her breakfast if she came to double-check on the finishing touches that we worked on late last night. “I can’t wait to dig into some stacked pancakes.” She laughs and I hear her stomach growl.
“Yeah, she usually starts work this early. Plus this will give her some time to get settled. I’m sure she’ll need to make several trips back and forth with her office accessories,” I explain. “Thiago is going to be her beck and call girl for today, while we are at breakfast.” I shudder at the thought of him being at anyone’s service except Brooke’s. “We’ll see how that goes.”
“Thiago is a good guy. Give him a break,” she says, play punching me in the arm.
“Oh, I know he is. He’s the best brother around...don’t tell Mat I said that or you won’t get your short stack.”
“Short stack!” she shrieks. “I want a tall stack of pancakes with bacon aaand eggs.” My eyes widen at her appetite. Where in the hell does she put all that food?
“Hey, a girl has to eat before selling alcohol to the world. It keeps me bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” she teases. “At least it’s better than bleary-eyed and comatose.”
We’re both laughing so hard we don’t see Ava approach. I don’t know how much she heard but the look on her face tells me she isn’t amused. I guess she isn’t a morning person.
“Good morning, Ava,” I say, trying to lessen my smile and be serious. Damn it’s hard to do. “This is Brooke Childer, soon to be Solis.
“Good morning, Ava. It’s nice to meet you finally,” Brooke reiterates, holding out her hand for Ava to shake.”I delivered your basket the other day but had to leave it at the front desk. Dante thought you would need all of those things in your office after your allergy attack.” She lifts her eyebrows and tilts her head in my direction, attempting to give me all the credit. My brother is a lucky man.
“Good morning,” Ava chirps, extending her hand to shake Brooke’s. “Congratulations on your engagement. I’m sure you’ll both be very happy together.” She turns towards me and sneers. Wow. What did I do to deserve that look?
Brooke laughs, and for once, I’m not in on the joke. “Oh no. We’re not engaged. I’m marrying his brother, Thiago,” she clarifies. “I hope you like your new office. I put a woman’s touch on it with not being too sure what the guys were going to do.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she offers, letting the silence build between us. Time and space feels awkward now.
“Well, shall we go in?” I ask, letting the ladies walk ahead of me. I fish the shiny, new red key out of my pocket and open the door. I’ve already checked it a hundred and one times so I know it works. “Here is your key to the building ma’am.” I drop it into her open palm and watch her fingers cradle it until they close around it. She looks up at me through her lashes and I swear her eyes go soft on me for a moment. Maybe she’s not as mad as I think.
“You can keep your normal working hours as before. The only thing we are changing here is your actual office and your account load. That hopefully makes this transition easier,” I say, outlining the minute details quickly for her. “These three doors go directly to our apartments. If you need anything, just call. We’ll get you our cell numbers.”
We continue along the hallway finally arriving at her new office. I step back again and allow her to open the door. “Go ahead,” I encourage. “It’s your office.”
She reaches out and hesitantly grabs the door knob, sliding the door open over the thick carpet. A loud gasp escapes her throat and she turns looking up at me. Tears are welling up in her rich, cocoa brown eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” she asks, swiping at the tears as they fall. “This isn’t an office. This is like the penthouse at the Hilton. This can’t be my office.”
The walls are cream-colored to match the carpet, while the art is framed in matching golden hues. The desk is a dark wood, with a beautiful polish to it. It’s massive, and looks so official. The guest chairs surrounding it are cream and rose colored, matching the drapes and lamp that sits in the corner. The only word that comes to mind in trying to describe it is ‘opulent’. I think she’s overwhelmed because she’s speechless.
“It is; I promise,” assuring her. “And now that you’ve seen it and stand in awe, let me take the new PR person and my soon-to-be sister-in-law to breakfast. It’ll be a working breakfast.”
We head to the S & S Diner in two separate cars since Brooke’s office is closer to the diner than the club. I open the car door for Ava since she chose to ride with me, watching her slide in. My dick twitches in my pants as she pivots her knees towards me. Her skirt has risen up showing some of her thighs. Jesus Christ give me strength.
“Why are you doing this for me?” she asks, turning to face me. “This is a lot of effort just to get into my pants.”
I choke, hearing her talk aloud that casually about sex. I never expected anything like that to ever come out of her mouth. See. This is what she does. She keeps surprising me at every turn. I was hoping to hash this out later, but now is as good of a time as any.
“Whether you realize it or not, you judged me the other day. You judged me harshly based on my job and office location,” I recount, looking at her every chance I get while driving. “I am not a sex fiend, living it up wild and loose in a strip club. I am a CFO of a company within the entertainment industry that my brothers and I are building. It just so happens to be a strip club.” The ride is a silent one as I watch her chew on her lip in my peripheral vision.
“You’re right. I judged you and I’m sorry,” she admits. “I hate labels and I labeled you. I spouted it off in anger and etched it dead center of your forehead with my hateful words; just like I wore my bright red allergic band home that day. I wanted to hurt you for making me cry and blaming me for the poor performance of the bar promo. And for giving me another label: allergic.”
“I never meant to hurt you,” I whisper, reaching out and taking her hand. “You’re brave, passionate, smart, skillfully professional, completely charming, and more beautiful than words can possibly express. These are the labels you should wear dangling from your wrist. I’m not used to all of that in one person, and frankly, I don’t know how to handle it. I’m stumbling here.”
“You keep surprising me, and making me second guess what I thought I already knew about myself and the kind of man I want in my life,” she says. Placing a soft kiss on the palm of my hand, she sighs deeply and looks out at the ocean. “I don’t know how we do a relationship that’s both professional and sexual, but if you’re willing to try I guess we can stumble together.”
“We will do better than try. We will simply do,” I state matter-of-factly. “We just need to communicate and I think we do that pretty well already.”
“And before we go in to eat, I would like you to consider one thing— the ladies at the strip club ch
oose to be there for employment purposes. It is their choice. Most of them have dance backgrounds and don’t want to give up the one thing that makes them happy. We do our best to make sure they get paid the best they can to try to alleviate some of the shame and persecution they may suffer in being a ‘stripper’. Please try to keep that in mind when you’re in the club. We treat them with respect because they deserve it as human beings.”
“You see?” she asks. “There you go surprising me again. Thank you for reminding me not to judge a book by its cover or put a label on it.”
“Now, let’s go eat. I’ll race you,” I laugh, and dart out of the car like a lunatic.
WE CONDUCTED BUSINESS while eating, and made sure to answer every question that Ava had about her office, who she reports to, ideas for promotion, and how to blend that in with other aspects of the business for promotion. Brooke even put in her two cents with international branding since we live in a very culturally diverse city. She helped us tie it all together with themes within the city and state. It may not be a finalized plan, but we hit some major bullet points just in the first few hours of her role.
But the major learning point of this morning is that I never knew eating breakfast could be such a sexual experience, especially being in mixed company. Yeah, I may be a professional man, but I’m still a man. The way she held her sausage links with her fork, or licked the maple syrup off her lips after taking a bite of her pancakes was too much for my dick to handle. I’ve been hard the entire time. I was grateful that Brooke sat on the edge and offered to take the money up to the cashier. So now, I sit here and think of very cold things like ice cream, Alaska, and the cooler in the back of the storeroom.
I’m used to taking what I want and then training them to give me what I want without having to ask for it. Ava is a whole new breed of woman for me, and I need to learn self-control. But fuck I want her bad.
Since I walked out of her apartment building the other day, all I’ve dreamed about is having hateful sex with her. I want to feel all of her passion unleash on me in a fury, and then when we’re done and spent, I want to make love to her. I need to caress every inch of her gorgeous skin and feel her heat wrap around me. I want the hard places of my personality to crash into her soft spots, her hot passion to temper my cold humor, and my happy laughter to replace her sadness. I don’t know what that says about me, but I want to experience all of her in every way possible.
“A penny for your thoughts,” I hear her say. I look up and give her a brief smile before taking a final sip of my coffee.
“They’re worth more than a penny,” I announce. She lowers her eyes down and away from me like I chastised her. “Hey,” I say, lifting her chin with my forefinger and looking directly into her eyes. “They were of you, and you’re worth way more than a penny.”
“Well, the bill is paid, and I’ve got to run,” Brooke says, returning to pour her coffee into a to-go cup. “It was nice to meet you Ava. I’m sure I’ll see you around. Later, Gator.” Brooke bends and kisses me on the cheek, mussing my hair with her fingers, just like an older sister would. I couldn’t have picked a better sister, and am thrilled for her and Thiago. God knows they deserves some happiness.
“We should probably go too. Thiago is waiting to meet you, and I’m sure you're anxious to get settled,” I state.
“I’m not anxious. I’m just a little excited,” she squeals, holding out both of her arms as wide as they’ll go for measurement purposes. “I can’t wait to start this adventure.”
Chapter 12 – Ava
I’VE WORKED HERE IN my new office for close to a month now. You’d think it would get easier to be here as the days pass, but it’s getting harder. For the first time in a long time, I want something from someone that doesn’t have anything to do with work. I’m falling for him, and it’s a messy fall that has me tripping over every word I speak, every thought that crosses my mind, and every look that I get of him. It’s so messy, that I’m sure his brother’s think they’ve hired an idiot. I’m going to come out of this looking like a fool...but I don’t care. I desperately want to explore him, and I’m scared to death.
Dating is not my thing; it doesn’t agree with me, at all. Mainly because I’m not someone that can control what comes out of my mouth. In social situations, I am what you would call a ‘no-filter’. I have strong opinions on certain topics and most people avoid bringing them up in general conversation, but it never fails that they end up in mine. My mother accuses me of doing it on purpose saying that it’s my way of weeding out the ones that aren’t worth my time. Ugh. Like I want to be alone. In reality, I want someone that can have a differing opinion than me, and be man enough to stand by me with my opinion fully intact. Is that too much to ask for? Eh, maybe I do weed them out.
My few previous boyfriends (and I mean very few) were amicable splits where opportunities presented themselves and we decided to part ways. Of course, it was always so the other person could flourish in those opportunities. Not that I think ‘if you love someone set them free’ is a great relationship strategy, but that’s how they’ve worked out for me so far. Besides, we were too young to know what true love was.
I’m starting to think I’m not too young anymore.
Dante has a different way of thinking about things that intrigues me. I’m way out of my comfort zone with him, but I’m wrapped up tight with a need to have him. He’s not afraid to give me his uncensored opinions, but he packages them in a joke. It took me a few weeks to figure that out, but I see it now. I can actually hone in on it, and I’ve learned to test and tease him back. My joking skills are amateur and weak, but I’m getting sharper and stronger by the day.
Can I do this with him? He’s broken down every barrier that I had constructed. To not move forward feels like I’m impeding progress. He’s waited patiently, and I’m running out of my own excuses to fend him off. We even survived our first major war with his self-induced foul mood a few days ago.
During an employee meeting, Thiago and Brooke announced that they were engaged. You could feel the hot and cold of the room, as the men cheered and the women seethed with jealousy. It was unnerving. Dante felt the need to lighten the mood and it was working for a while. Until later that afternoon, when Dante came busting through my door angry as hell. He stomped and paced around until he got tired. When I asked him what was wrong, he got all righteous about how relationships are supposed to work. After I flat out ignored him, he finally calmed down and explained that Mat has decided to move in with his girlfriend, Cassee and leave their little nest of bachelor pads here at the club.
“...but they just met a few months ago,” he bellows. “It’s too soon.”
“What’s too soon about it?” I ask indignantly. “Just because it doesn’t fit your timetable doesn’t mean it isn’t right for him.” Like there’s an official schedule of events to follow when in love. When I point out this flaw in his thinking, he blows up at me flailing his arms around in the air and hissing like he sprang a leak. Exasperated, he finally sits down again and buries his head in his hands.
“I just don’t want him to move his stuff out,” he mumbles. “We all just got back together and now we’re separating again.”
I walk around my desk and sit next to him on the sofa, closing the distance between us. “Ahh, I see. You feel abandoned,” I state plainly, causing him to look at me with denial in his eyes.
“I do not,” he argues. “I just started to feel like I was finally getting to know them. They are so much older than me, and I wasn’t allowed to go where they could go— I was too young. Then I went away to college, and missed out on their lives. I’ve always had two brothers that I never knew. I thought Miami was where we could finally bond. I guess not.” He stands and walks out the door, with this shoulders slumped and head hanging low. I’m left with a shit-ton of useless emotions that won’t let me call him back.
Two days. I give him two days and his mood is still a little too pissy for my taste. He’s let everyo
ne in the world know how upset he is with Mat. Poor Mat. He’s at his wits end with trying to set this right.
Problems don’t get solved by wallowing in them. I can’t make Mat stay, but I can help Dante move past this hurt. He needs something of his own to look forward to, and damn it, it should be me.
After a few hours of talking myself into making the call, I dial Brooke’s number. She’s been sitting in my contacts list for a month and I’ve yet to push that button. Well, today’s the day.
“Hello, Brooke Childer speaking” she says, just as polite and professional as you would expect her to be.
“Hi, Brooke. It’s Ava,” I announce, not sure if she will recognize my voice over the phone.
“Hi, Ava. How are you? I’ve been meaning to call and check on you, but the wedding has taken control of my life and I’m stuck in wedding hell with my mother.”
“I’m well, thank you. If now is not a good time to talk, I can call back later,” I suggest, switching the phone to speaker since I’m too nervous to hold it.
“No, I’ve got time. I’m just heading out to grab some lunch. Want to come join me?” she asks.
“Umm, sure. Where were you headed? I need to call Lyft,” I explain. Pulling up the app and checking wait times as we talk.
“No, don’t do that. I’ll come to you. I’ve actually been craving some Pizzarium for a while. This will be a great excuse to indulge. I can be there in ten minutes,” she informs me.