Salsa Nights

by Salsa Nights (lit)

  “I’m going to work.” She carried her dishes to the sink.

  “What?” Brad asked quietly. Too quietly.

  She turned and repeated it slowly, in case he was confused. “I’m going to my studio to work.”

  Even sitting at the table he seemed so large, but his expression was blank. Nothing. “No, you’re not.”

  He stated it so matter-of-factly she was stunned for a full five seconds. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, no, you’re not.”

  Isabel crossed her arms and managed to keep her composure. “Since when do I need your permission to go to my place of business?”

  When Brad rose to his full height, Isabel almost took a step back. Almost. He closed in on her, but she rooted herself to the floor. Damn, he was so tall and intimidating, especially because he didn’t look mad. He didn’t look anything, actually. He wore his usual blank expression.

  “Since someone broke into your house last night.”

  “Well, it won’t be night, and I won’t be at my house. I’ll be at my very busy, very crowded dance studio.”

  She had to drop her head back now, and his face turned dark.

  “Then I suggest one of us go with you or you don’t go at all.”

  “That is ridiculous. But then again, you like telling me what to do. I don’t need you there.”

  “If it means keeping you alive, one of us goes with you. End of discussion. Should I drive?”

  “You arrogant, impossible—” Brad’s lips came down so hard on hers, she slammed against the counter behind her.

  His tongue found hers and demanded a possessive dance. It dove, swooped, and pushed in and out. His hunger sucked her breath away. She tasted freshly brewed coffee and smelled his masculine scent. Fingers grabbed locks of her hair and pulled her head back, making her mouth more accessible. Her body crushed to his. His dick, large and throbbing, stabbed her stomach.

  How had she known it would be that big? He circled his hips, digging his rod into her, killing her with a new ache between her legs.

  Her hands explored his sinewy back and shoulders. His moved down her sides, teasing her breasts with his thumbs, under her shirt, and climbed up to palm her mounds.

  Isabel moaned, a deep, wistful sound. Yes, she’d dreamed about his touch, his hands on her, kneading, rubbing. He was a savage, rough and fast. She wanted more. Whatever he needed, oh, he could take it. Her hands found his silky hair and grabbed it tightly, praying this wasn’t another fantasy.

  He moved a hand down her ribs, down to her waist, and pushed under the elastic of her pants. She whimpered. He groaned. She threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hips pushed toward him. The moistness sticking to her leotard created sensations that peaked her arousal. Waves of lust preceded his fingers, beating a path to her eager clit.

  His fingers pressed against the now-swelling button, and when his fingers circled her damp labia, her entire body shuddered.

  “Brad,” she whimpered, starving, urging him to push the material out of the way. She was aching, panting for release. All these years, dreaming, wishing. Oh, please, touch me.

  But she sensed something—a presence. Her dazed eyes opened to Dale standing in the kitchen watching, and she felt as if a bucket of ice fell on her. With a strangled gasp, she pushed Brad away and ran out of the kitchen to her room.

  Shit, how could she lose control like that? What would Dale think? Damn it! She wanted Dale too—she wanted both of them.

  It had begun the first time she’d hung out with Gina at Club Lava. Gina had warned her that sex was everywhere, and it was explicit. Isabel went in, though, just wanting to have fun after a hard day of work. The sex had been raw, to say the least, from the dance floor to the couches to the back rooms. It was the threesomes, however, that had grabbed, no, stolen her attention. She’d instantly pictured Brad and Dale as the two lovers who would worship her inexperienced body, making her cry out in relentless pleasure. Not a day had gone by since that visit over a year ago that she hadn’t visualized her own ménage.

  She’d only gone back once more, the last night she saw Gina, and the images of lovers at the club had shot her desires to a more lustful need. They’d given her a craving to experience something daring, wild, and wanton that only Brad and Dale could show her.

  Yet, she couldn’t admit she wanted them, not yet. She just couldn’t accept she was the kind of woman who needed two men to satisfy her. What did that say about her? What if now that Dale had seen her kiss Brad he no longer wanted her?

  That was another thing. How could she be attracted to two completely different men? Maybe it was their differences that satisfied every yearning she felt, to be dominated and to be nurtured in the bedroom. To be taught the art of ménage and to have her fears, her doubts cared for. To have them possess and own her body while ensuring her every need was met.

  Still, how was it that Brad wanted her when all along he’d been a blank face shouting orders and making threats? Dale must have wanted her, too. She’d caught a glimpse of it, a lust in his eyes. No, that was crazy, wishful thinking. Yet, the thought that he’d wanted her as he watched her moan in Brad’s arms was thrilling. Erotic. And if he didn’t find it as exciting as she had? If only Brad wanted her? She couldn’t be with one and not with the other. Not after years of crushing on them as a teenager, years of dreaming they were her lovers, months of fantasizing about them in a ménage.

  Her dreams had been too vivid to ignore one of them now. But again, how could Brad want her? He didn’t, of course. She was just a female in his house. He would have jumped on anyone standing there with him.

  Their voices, though muffled, carried to her room, and she could tell they moved away.

  She grabbed her car keys and dance bag and returned to the kitchen where she could see them talking outside by the pool. She couldn’t fathom their present conversation, but gauging by Brad’s purposeful stride, hands on hips, and heated discussion with Dale she guessed he regretted what he’d done. Upset that she had so many conflicting emotions and desires, ashamed that she may be wasting her time lusting after two men she may never have, she thought of one thing that always made her feel better.

  She headed out the front door, jumped in her car, and drove as fast as she could to her studio. Her cheeks burned, the crotch of her leotard sticky from desire, and she could still see Dale’s face. Watching.

  She flushed at the memory of how Brad had branded her because she still felt the heat of his hands and his dick on her. She wanted Brad so badly she nearly cried when he groaned for her. But she had also wanted Dale to join them the second she saw him watching. What the hell was she going to do?

  * * * *

  “Look, I know you’ve wanted Isabel for a long time. But there are much bigger things at play here than your sexual frustrations.” Dale paced alongside the rectangular pool.

  Brad passed him, walking the opposite direction. “I know we said we’d behave. She’s just so damn—”

  “Beautiful, sensual—” Dale said.

  “Stubborn, argumentative—” Brad added.

  “And perfect.”

  Dale looked out to the beach. He squinted as the sun shone brightly, but he knew the heat he felt came from the scene inside.

  The sight of Isabel—eyes closed, back arched, mouth open, moaning—had done more for his dick than the last blow job he’d gotten.

  He released a long, lustful breath. “She could be the one.”

  Brad raised a brow. “You mean the one you think we could both have for the rest of our lives?”

  Dale nodded. He’d mentioned this to Brad before, though Brad had been doubtful. But that was his nature, not to trust women. In his mind, a woman for the two of them would be a nympho who would stray.

  Dale, however, felt a woman for them to share would be more fulfilling than anything they’d experienced. The right woman would love them unconditionally, enjoying the pleasures they yearned to give while secured in her position as much mo
re than their lover but their equal partner as well. And while Brad had reluctantly agreed, it didn’t mean he’d immediately jump on board.

  “Yeah,” Dale said simply.

  Brad looked toward the house and nodded. “It would be incredible, man. One little problem. She freaked out when she saw you. That shove she gave me was not wimpy.”

  Dale grinned and walked toward Brad. “That shove came after a look that I didn’t miss. It was curiosity. Her mouth, her eyes—”

  “Okay, damn, I get it. I’m still suffering here with a hard-on that’s coming out of my jeans. Shit,” Brad scoffed. “But we can’t have her. We’ve stayed away all these years to better watch over her. It’s bad enough she’s here under our roof. Adding sex to this complicated situation will make it hard for us to focus,” he reasoned and walked to the edge of their open deck facing the beach.

  He was right. How could they tumble in bed with her and not let their guard down at some crucial point? But still.

  “We’re two grown men, Brad. And we’re smart. We’ve been watching over her for a long time and led normal lives. We had sex with other women, and that didn’t interfere with our attention to Isabel. If you ask me, I don’t know that it would be as bad as you think.” Dale walked up behind him.

  Brad snorted. “Says the playboy. You were just as adamant as I was about not being near her, about not laying a finger on her. What changed?”

  “The look in her eyes. I know women, Brad, probably better than you. She wanted us, both of us. And tell me right now that if we have sex with her, we won’t naturally want to protect her even more? Be more careful, more possessive?”

  His friend chuckled and shook his head. “So now you’re implying that having sex with her is better for her?”

  Dale ignored his sarcasm and looked him in the eye. “I’m saying it won’t hurt. She won’t fight us and she may even trust us.”

  Brad grew serious and stared out to sea again. “And what about her, man? Her feelings? What if she expects more than what we—what I can give her?”

  It was hard not to feel the loneliness in his friend’s tone. Damn it, if he would just learn to let the past go.

  “We talk to her. We let her decide. She’s a big girl now.”

  Brad turned to face the house, specifically her bedroom. The turmoil was evident in his eyes, and it took him a moment to answer.

  “All right. She’s been in our club—she’s into threesomes. Fuck me, I can’t even imagine her with someone else. But she doesn’t know we’re into them. Hell, she doesn’t know it’s our club, otherwise, she would have said something by now.”

  Dale covered his grin with a hand, pretending to swipe something from his mouth. He knew whatever Isabel had done that night at Club Lava did not involve sex. But the reason she could waltz into a swingers club and laugh it up with friends haunted Brad day and night. Their club wasn’t for the prude, uptight, or, most of the time, the monogamous.

  People were at least curious the first time they ventured into a lifestyle club, if not already experienced. Isabel hadn’t seemed shocked so she wasn’t a novice. It didn’t mean she participated in orgies or ménages, but it did mean she had, at the very least, thought about them.

  “Okay, man. Let’s go talk to her, ease her into where we work and what we’re okay with.” He followed Brad back in the house, toward Isabel’s room.

  “Shit!” Brad yelled a second after he walked in her room, then hurried past Dale in the hallway, through the kitchen, and headed for the front door.

  “Damn it, I’m going to kill her!”

  “She’s gone?” Dale wasn’t sure, but it would be the only reason he’d be this furious.

  Brad slammed the front door shut and stomped past the dining area, aiming for the garage.

  “Wait, wait, no. Listen to me, you’re too mad. You can’t go into her place of business and embarrass her.” Dale spoke fast, watching Brad grab his truck keys from the hook and throw the garage door open.

  “Too bad. She should have listened.”

  Dale hurried past him and blocked him from getting into his Hummer. “Stop!” It wasn’t often Dale saw his friend this angry, and he actually felt bad for Isabel if Brad managed to get to her.

  “Get out of my way. What are you doing?” Brad’s voice was deceptively low, a tone Dale knew well.

  “Saving any chance you might still have to be with her.” That got his attention.

  Brad huffed and hung his head, took a deep breath, and faced him again. “Okay, what have you got?”

  Dale relaxed a little, knowing an angry Brad storming into Salsa Nights would guarantee Isabel never speaking to them again. “Devin,” he told him with a nod, reminding him of their bouncer who’d helped them watch over Isabel in the past. “He can keep an eye on her and make sure she gets back here safe and sound. You know Devin wouldn’t mind watching a few leotard-wearing dancing girls.”

  Brad eyed him, obviously thinking this through, knowing he could blow it with Isabel.

  “Fine. Make the call. But he keeps his eye on her.” Brad headed back in the house, and Dale grabbed his cell phone. Small miracles do exist.

  For the next few hours, he and Brad ran errands for their club, drove past Salsa Nights three separate times, spoke with Devin twice, and finally headed to the club.

  Dale had a meeting they couldn’t cancel and a manager to train on the busiest night of the week. Friday night was theme night and tonight’s theme—pajama party—was the hottest. Once they ensured things ran smoothly, they’d head back to the house and let Devin get back to work at the club.

  “How do you think Calli’s doing?” Brad asked loudly over the blaring music as they stood by the bar and observed their new general manager handle the bartender.

  “She’s good. Devin was right. She’s sharp. It doesn’t hurt that she’s gorgeous,” Dale answered, noticing how the tall blonde attracted the attention of the staff and the clientele.

  “Speaking of Devin,” Dale heard Brad nearly shout and turned to find Devin approach them from the end of the bar.

  “Isabel’s here,” the bouncer announced.

  Dale’s stomach dropped. What the hell was she doing here? Was she here for a night out or had she figured out they worked here?

  “Where is she?” he shouted.

  Devin looked over his shoulder, then frowned. “She was right behind me.”

  He shot after Brad, furious she could be so careless. Now she’d realize they owned the place but it may make them look like a couple of horny perverts who owned a sex club to get sex. They’d decided to tell her before she’d figure it out and assume the worst of them, but they didn’t expect her to waltz in tonight. Shit.

  Chapter Six

  Isabel was so angry she could taste it. Even a shower and the drive down here hadn’t tempered her urge to slap their handsome faces. Why hadn’t they told her? This was the last place she’d seen Gina alive, and they owned the damn club.

  She’d woken up from a restless nap to find herself alone and debated between a swim in the pool or a walk on the beach. It was just too tempting, however, to be in the house she knew so well from the outside and not know the inside.

  As she’d climbed the stairs, she’d chided herself for been nosy but she really couldn’t help herself. Knowing their home would give her more insight into the men who’d gone from starring in her teenage dreams to knocking down doors to come to her rescue.

  Dale had mentioned his room was above hers so she resisted the urge to sneak a peek and stepped into the first room straight ahead. Their office was decorated no differently than the rest of the house with blues and whites dominating the color palette. But one look at the first desk she’d reached and .she’d inadvertently learned they owned Club Lava. Every piece of mail was addressed to the owners and CEOs, Brad and Dale. Stupidly, she’d thought they were in real estate when they told her about BD Corporation and the title to her building.

  After sputtering a few curses at t
he secretive duo, she’d changed into something more club appropriate and raced to face them.

  A handsome bouncer had noticed her stall just inside the door and asked if she needed anything. He offered to take her to Brad and Dale when she’d asked, but she’d detoured into the crowd.

  She wanted to see Brad and Dale, to yell at them for not telling her they owned this club. It was really a ridiculous reason to pick a fight, but she was being stalked, and they had kept information from her.

  But she robotically headed to a room in the back of the club. She could yell later. Right now, she wanted to go to the room where she, Gina, Leyna, and Nik had hung out that night.

  This part of the club was where people could use a room for threesomes or orgies. There were many rooms, from small ones with hanging strands of large beads as faux doors to large ones with two-way mirrors for voyeurs.

  The room she wanted to see was occupied. The door was closed, but she had no intention of looking inside through the mirror. Now that she stood just outside the room, a melancholy feeling dropped over her like a heavy fog.

  She remembered how the girls had thrown Gina a bachelorette party. Gina had a couples’ membership with her fiancé, both being swingers.

  But the girls didn’t come here to have any type of sex. They drank, laughed, and shared stories. That’s why they’d found a room, to talk and plan their futures. It had been naughty fun in location only.

  The next day, two officers showed up at her studio to tell her Gina had been found raped and strangled in her own bed. And then Isabel had received that note a few days later. Was it the same man? Was it the man who broke into her house?

  Isabel blinked the tears away and walked down the hallway. Leyna had returned her call today and assured her she was fine and had gotten no threatening letter. Leyna thought Isabel was a bit paranoid but promised to not be alone at night and lock up her house. So why Gina? And why Isabel now?

  If it hadn’t been for Brad and Dale. Brad and Dale. This was how they’d known. The cops must have come to talk to them too, after learning from Gina’s sister where she’d been the night of the murder. But how? Isabel looked up and saw security cameras. That was how. Brad and Dale had seen her on the film footage of that night with Gina.