Beau looked at her in the dark. “Thank you.”
“For what?” she asked, keeping her eyes forward.
He reached over and turned her head to him. He leaned in, pulling her closer by her chin, and kissed her once on the lips. “Sometimes I forget how it feels to receive a gift without a price tag. I know you put a lot of thought into this.”
“I did.” Lola forced herself not to look away. Was he just figuring out that what made something special was the thought behind it, not the dollar amount? Sporadic comments like those made her think Beau was changing in little ways, that maybe he wouldn’t always put money and work first. She hoped he’d keep going down that path. “There’s something else.”
“More?”
Lola removed the lid from the box in her lap and held up the cat ears. “As soon as I put these on my head, I’m no longer your girlfriend. I’m a stranger. A—sex worker.”
The corner of his mouth crooked into a smile. He dropped his hand to one of her thighs, squeezing it right under the hem of her coat. “Is it bad if that excites me?”
Lola removed his hand by his wrist and placed it back on his side of the car. “That means absolutely no touching tonight. You’re getting an authentic experience. You’re my customer, and you’ve hired me to dance for you, just like you did that first night. Which means keeping your hands to yourself.”
Beau sighed up at the roof. “I’ve come this far—what’s a little longer?” He looked back over at her. “Anything else, my queen?”
No—there was nothing else. Except that she couldn’t seem to move from that spot and get out of the car. He was being so good tonight. Attentive. A real boyfriend—better than Johnny, even better than Beau at his best. “Yes,” she said softly. “Kiss me.”
Beau put his hand to her cheek without hesitation. He inclined over the console and brushed the tip of his nose against hers. He pecked her once, but she put her arms around his neck before he could pull away. They opened their mouths to each other at the same time, their warm tongues meeting in the middle. It wasn’t in her plan. It wasn’t even her parting gift to him. This one was just for her.
He inhaled and separated from her but kept his forehead pressed against hers. “You sure you don’t want to just go home?”
She hesitated to seem genuine, but she was ready. She was picturing ahead to being inside, dancing close to him, turning him raw and defenseless. She lifted the cat ears on her index finger and dangled them in front of him. “Want to do the honors?”
He took the headband and placed it over her hair. “Perfect.”
Beau got out and rounded the car to get her door. He held out a hand to help her, but she shook her head at him.
“Right,” he said, dropping it back to his side. “No touching.”
She unfolded out of the Lamborghini, and they walked around to the front, shoulder to shoulder.
The bouncer took one look at Lola and opened the velvet rope for them. “Evening, Miss Winters.”
“You really went all out, didn’t you?” Beau asked behind her.
She ignored him and passed through the entryway into the club. The music hit her like a fist to the gut, uglier than usual, all hard bass without any detectable rhythm. Or maybe her brain was jumbling things that didn’t matter, unable to afford the extra attention. Kincaid was at the bar, watching over things like he sometimes did. Neon streaks cut through the dark like they were trying to dismember him. They exchanged a nod.
“Follow me,” she said to Beau over her shoulder. She was in charge for once. That was how she knew she had Beau. He was letting her get away with more than he would anyone else, especially tonight.
She walked him down a long hallway until they reached the last door. There, Lola took a moment to herself. With a deep breath, she adjusted her headband and smoothed her hand over her trench coat. What had Kincaid called her earlier that day?
“The cat that swallowed the canary.”
She liked that. She’d have to remember it.
Lola opened the door and led Beau into their final moments together.
Chapter 45
Cat Shoppe’s VIP room was more than familiar to Lola and Beau. After all, this would be their third time renting it.
“VIP?” Beau asked from behind her as they entered.
“It was either here or out there,” Lola teased, nodding toward the main stage.
Beau stepped so close to her, she felt his heat on her back. “You don’t think I’d let you dance out there, where anyone could see. Do you?”
Lola walked deeper into the room to get away from him. Just being back there, remembering how she’d gotten to her knees and sucked him off, was enough to make her heart beat a little faster. She gestured toward the red-velvet couch, which curved around the circular room. “Sit.”
He obeyed, easing into the seat, looking amused as he crossed an ankle over his knee. “If I’m the customer, aren’t I in charge?”
“If it makes you feel better to think so.” Lola took her time unknotting the belt of her trench coat. “Sometimes I’m not sure which one of us is in charge—but I guess that’s just the dynamic of our relationship, isn’t it?”
He wasn’t listening. His eyes were fixed on her hands as she slid each button through its slit. Appreciating her, that was what he liked. Owning her body, even from a distance. The poor man hadn’t even seen her tits since the night she’d fled his hotel room.
She removed the seventeen-hundred dollar trench coat and let it fall on the ground.
His foot slipped, and he planted it on the floor, leaning his elbows onto his legs. “Fuck. Lola.”
“I’m not Lola in here.” This wasn’t just about revenge. Beau wasn’t the only one who could have fun. Her real name would be a clue, but he was so distracted, he would miss it. “I go by Melody.”
She stared at him, staring at her. He didn’t move or even blink, but he didn’t look particularly happy either. For the first time, she noticed how quiet the room was except for the bass thumping from the main stage.
She glanced down quickly, checking her outfit—could she have forgotten an important part? The Swarovski-studded corset pushed her breasts up, plump and smooth. Where the hem stopped, a black, lacey thong started and attached to matching, thigh-high stockings. The ears had come with a black cattail she’d haphazardly pinned to her underwear in the restaurant’s bathroom.
He still hadn’t reacted. She tried not to fidget. “Do you like it?”
He cocked his head, stabbing his tongue into his cheek. “It’s the same thing you wore that night.”
“Is that a yes?”
He rubbed his hands over his face without removing his eyes from her. “I don’t know. It makes me think of how you used to dance here. And the other men who came before me.”
Lola shifted from one foot to the other. The point was to trigger his memory, to make him crazy for her. Jealousy was an unexpected reaction. “It was a long time ago.”
“So? Those men looked at something they had no right to.” His eyes were dark and narrowed when he finally looked up at her face. “They sat here. They thought about you when they got home. They’re animals. They’re—”
“They’re you.” Lola took a breath. There was too much bitterness in her voice, and he wasn’t supposed to get to her. “You were one of them.”
“I was not.” He shook his head and blinked a few times, hard.
Lola tried to keep her limbs loose when all she wanted to do was tense up. This was not going as she’d hoped. “What are you saying?”
They stared at each other. If he got up to leave, she might not be able to stop him. It took a great deal to distract a man like Beau—she’d hoped two-and-a-half weeks of keeping his hands to himself would be enough.
He glanced behind her briefly and back. “I don’t know. I can’t think straight when you’re standing there in that.” His eyebrows lowered. “Take it off.”
Her body thrilled. He was giving her the green li
ght. This was the Beau she’d been anticipating. She traced her finger along the corset’s sweetheart neckline. “And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll do it for you. I wanted tonight to be special, but you want to get bent over in a filthy strip club? I’m game, baby. It’ll be just as sweet for me anywhere I fuck you.”
Lola flushed all at once, as if she’d swallowed a ball of fire. She was back in his hotel room, crawling to him across the floor, the opposite of mad about it. Staying apart had been hard for her too. There were times she’d wanted nothing more than to give in to his advances, let him pleasure her the way she already knew he could.
“Remember what I said outside. I’m serious.” Lola turned away from him. She had to be careful. Nothing made her knees quiver faster than Beau at the end of his patience, nothing on his mind but how to get inside her.
She crouched to slip an iPod from the pocket of her trench coat, then plugged it into the stereo. Jazz started slow, sensual. Fever was something you wanted when Shirley Horn sang about it in her smoky, hypnotic voice.
Lola got on the round stage, a pole down the center, the same one she’d danced on for him before. Tonight, the room didn’t turn colors—there was just a single, white spotlight from the ceiling that illuminated her and shaded him.
Lola looked down at her feet and took a couple deep breaths, exhaling each one slowly. She glanced up at him. Her lashes were heavy with mascara, a black shadow over Beau. She hadn’t even begun, and her chest already rose and fell rapidly. She did love to dance, especially for Beau, because she felt him in her every move. He could direct her without a word or touch.
She took the pole, cold and solid, and started in a slow circle. Her resolve strengthened each time her heels hit the compact floor. She slid her palm high up the smooth surface, grabbed the pole with both hands. She jumped it like a boyfriend she hadn’t seen in years, swinging with her legs locked around it. The furry cattail belted her thigh.
Beau flexed his large hands over his knees. “Come here.”
Still suspended from the pole, with both hands gripping the metal, Lola arched her back. Her hair cascaded behind her. She lowered herself to her feet and turned away from him, zigzagging her hips as she danced into a squat. Watching him, she zigzagged back up.
His eyes followed her every movement. He looked like he’d forgotten how to swallow. “I surrender. You’ve got me. Just come down here.”
“Patience,” she said, turning to face him. With a hint of a smile, she unhooked her corset just enough to free everything above her nipples. “This isn’t about satisfaction. It’s about torment.”
“It’s about me climbing on that stage in two seconds and nailing you to that pole.”
Lola practically purred her assent, her insides turning to jelly with his tone. This was working even faster than she’d expected. She descended the steps steadily, keeping her eyes down, and went to stand between his parted knees. She turned slowly. Lola liked to feel free when she danced, but she forced her hips to stay with the tempo. Beau would pick up her cues, staying slow along with her.
He grabbed her tail. She turned her head over her shoulder and tsked at him.
He smiled a little and let go. “You have no idea, do you?”
“What?”
“How it’s been for me.” His face fell. “How fucking badly I’ve needed you.”
“It’s been like that for me too,” Lola said, still twisted to see his eyes, still dancing.
“Has it? Sometimes I don’t know.”
Lola faltered but didn’t stop. These moments of clarity he kept having weren’t helping. She hadn’t anticipated anything from him other than consuming, dumb lust. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You still have a wall up, and I can’t blame you for that. But I’ll break it down with every last tool I have. I’m doing the work, Lola. Even if you can’t see it all the time.”
She swallowed. The finality of it all began to sink in. Once upon a time, Lola and Beau had made a plan to spend all their nights together. Now, they didn’t even have one left. It was another thing Beau had taken away—this was his fault, not hers. He had ruined this.
“Don’t call me that,” she said, angry. “I told you. It’s Melody.”
Beau raked a hand through his hair, disheveling its perfection. “Would you stop moving a minute?”
“You ordered me to dance.”
“Well, now I’m ordering you to stop.”
Lola stilled her hips and looked at the floor. She’d spent the last three weeks studying him. Learning him inside out. Handling him. She could do this. She turned to face him.
“I—” He paused and took a breath.
Lola’s heart began to race. There was no way he’d tell her he loved her here of all places. In the middle of a striptease. Part of her wanted to hear it, but the part that wanted to leave was stronger.
She climbed onto the cushion and straddled him with her knees, careful not to touch him.
“I should’ve stopped this already,” he said. “I don’t want to do this here.”
Lola lowered her voice to a sultry whisper. “Then where do you want to do it?”
“At home. In our bed.”
She couldn’t resist getting a little closer. He smelled like the man who’d uttered nothings in her ear—who’d made love to her while he’d fucked her. But her love for him had torn through her like a hurricane too many times, trying to bring her down. She gripped the cushion behind his shoulders and steeled herself against the urge to give in to him.
She glanced at his lap. “You’re hard, Beau. Do you want me?”
He groaned. “On your knees, on your stomach, on your back. Every way. Any way.”
She almost sucked in a breath, wanting that too, but she only needed to be strong a little longer. She opened her mouth and finally said what she’d been thinking for weeks. “Your hands are the only ones that ever lit a fire under my skin. God, Beau. I dream about you touching me at night, and I fantasize about it during the day.”
“I want to,” he said. “I need to.”
“I’m right here.”
“You made me promise…”
She inhaled his scent, committing it to memory along with the things that were already there—his foggy-green eyes, his razorblade jawline and sexy cleft chin. His thawing embrace. “It’s too much. You told me once, when you fucked me, it would calm me. I can’t even see straight.”
He grabbed her by the waist, making her gasp, and pulled her onto him. He yanked her thong out of the way and sank a finger in her.
Lola threw her head back, bit her lip to keep quiet and looked directly into the surveillance camera. She didn’t expect the second finger, and she moaned gutturally.
“There’s my girl,” Beau said.
There was an eruption, and Lola looked back just as the door bounced off the wall. Beau was still gawking, knuckles deep inside her when she was hauled backward off his lap.
Beau’s hands were suspended, open and empty. “What—”
A security guard seized his bicep, pulling Beau to his feet. “You’re out, pal.”
“Get your hands—” Beau jerked his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”
The man’s muscles, as big as Lola’s head, stretched the sleeves of a faded-black T-shirt. His face reddened. “Exactly. Did you miss the huge fucking sign out there that says ‘no touching’?”
“She’s my girlfriend,” Beau said, his voice as sharp-cornered as his back was rigid.
Another security guard entered the room and got between Lola and Beau. “You good, Havermann?”
Beau laughed like a shotgun, short, aggressive barks. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“No joke,” the man called Havermann said. He reached up but stopped as Beau raised his hands, a warning to back off. “You don’t touch the girls. Everyone knows that. Automatic removal. Let’s go. Now.”
Beau looked between Lola and the man too quickly to even register her. “She’s n
ot one of your girls. She’s mine, and I don’t like how you’re blocking her from me,” he said to Havermann. “Get the fuck out of my way. Lola, tell them.”
Lola opened her mouth. I have to settle the bill. I’ll meet you out front. She froze, unable to get the words out.
Havermann moved, obstructing Beau almost completely from Lola’s sight. “Don’t worry about her. You got another concern right now—me. Get out, or I put you out.”
“Beau, go,” Lola said suddenly, trying to shuffle around Havermann. She didn’t want it to get physical. “I’ll meet you out front.”
“And leave you here alone?” Beau lurched from side to side to see her better. “Are you out of your mind?”
The other security guard crossed his arms. “You got three seconds.”
Lola bit her thumbnail. “Go ahead. I know these guys. I just have to settle the bill, and get my things—”
“I’ll buy you new things.”
One of the men grunted. “Three.”
Her heart pounded as she hesitated. “I’ll only be a minute—”
“Two.”
“Did you not hear what I said?” Beau snapped. “So help me God, Lola. Leave your shit, and let’s fucking go. Now.”
Havermann’s chest swelled. “I’m not letting her leave with you. Not when you talk to her like that.” He lunged for Beau’s arm. “Come—”
Havermann stumbled when Beau stepped back. “Put your hand on me again, I’ll break every bone in it.”
“You got a fucking death wish?” Havermann grabbed Beau’s lapel and yanked, but Beau was faster. He already had two fistfuls of Havermann’s SECURITY shirt as he threw him backward into a wall. Beau pulled Havermann forward and slammed his body a second time. “I don’t think you understand.”
Lola covered her open mouth. She was as afraid of his expression as she was of him taking on two security guards. “Beau—”
“I’ve been this way for weeks,” Beau said through gritted teeth. “I’m on the edge, and in two seconds, you’re going to know exactly what that means. I’m holding back because jail is the only place I’ll be worse off.”
Don't Break This Kiss (Top Shelf Romance Book 5) Page 43
