Trouble

by Sasha White

  She cried out and welcomed the hot splash of Val’s come on her bare skin as he threw back his head, his own guttural shout mixing with hers.

  When she opened her eyes again Val stood in front of her, watching her. Her chest tightened and she slid from the desktop and repaired her clothes. “That was number one. I wanted you to see all of me so you have something to visualize when you make your decision.”

  Straightening her spine she stepped closer to him and cupped a hand over his cheek. The muscle in his jaw flexed beneath her touch and she tilted her head, locking stares with him.

  “The last fantasy on my list is you. All of you, with me, in more than just a string of sexcapades. I’m not going to say I love you because I’m not sure I do. What I am sure of is that I feel more for you than I ever thought possible, and I’m not settling for less than everything you have to give.” She kissed him softly, then spoke firmly. “Trust me, or let me go.”

  She stepped back, picked up her backpack and gave him one last lingering look. He watched her with eyes burning with unvoiced emotions, but said nothing.

  Swallowing hard past the lump in her throat she headed for the door. “You know where to find me.”

  39

  “You sure you don’t want her?”

  Val tried to control his despair as he met Karl’s gaze. “You know better than that,” he growled. “Of course I don’t want to give her up, but it’s my bike or my club, and I’ve made the choice.”

  It wasn’t the only choice he had to make, either.

  Karl climbed onto Val’s Harley, his baby, and started it up. Over the low rumble of the engine Karl spoke clearly.

  “I know you love the bike, man, and the club means everything to you, but that long face is pitiful. If you want my opinion, you should chase down Samair and stake a claim. She’s a good woman, and we both know those aren’t easy to find.”

  Karl gave a small wave then took off. Val looked down at the check in his hand, made out to him from a lawyer buddy of Karl’s who was willing to pay top dollar for the vintage 1955 bike. He hated to let go of her, but the check was just what he needed to make the final loan payment.

  A look at his watch confirmed he had no time to waste. With a sigh, he slid behind the wheel of his Camaro and headed for the bank.

  Making the choice to sell the bike was easy compared to the one he still had to make.

  Samair’s ultimatum the day before had left his head spinning. His first instinct had been to let her walk away, but he knew that was pride. Ultimatums were ugly things and he hadn’t liked it one bit. But he did understand it.

  She was right. He’d given her every fantasy she’d mentioned, he’d given her pleasure, passion, and even playfulness. But he hadn’t given her the trust that was needed to have a real relationship.

  It wasn’t easy, and not just because of Vera, either. He’d learned the hard way to only trust himself. Karl had pounded his way into Val’s confidence, but it had taken time. He’d known Samair less than a month.

  Yet, the thought of never seeing her again made his stomach ache.

  He pulled into the bank’s parking lot and shut of his car. Risqué was something that was completely his, and after today, no one could take it away. It was a goal that he’d been working toward all his life.

  So why was the victory so hallow?

  40

  Samair waited for the rumbling thunder of a Harley coming down her street, but it never came. She tried sketching, she tried sewing, even going over the orders from the show one more time couldn’t distract her mind from what she so desperately wanted to hear.

  She hadn’t expected him the night before. He had a club to run, and he probably needed time to consider what she’d said. But she’d been awake and tense since early morning, and she was going to crack soon.

  It was time to accept that Valentine Ward had truly only been interested in a good time with her. The emotions, the connection between them that she had felt…it had all been her. Tears welled and streaked down her cheeks and she finally gave into the urge to cry.

  No sooner had she thrown herself on the bed and buried her head in the pillow than the door buzzer rang. She almost left it, but a nagging in the back of her mind had her dragging her ass from bed to answer the summons.

  “Who is it?”

  “Me.”

  Her heart kicked in her chest and her hand shook as she pressed the release to let him into the building. He came.

  She unlocked the door and made a quick dash into the bathroom. No way in hell was she going to see him looking like shit. She splashed cold water over her face, ran a brush through her hair, and put some clear gloss on her lips.

  It took less than three minutes and was the best she could do. When she opened the bathroom door Val was standing in the middle of the small studio apartment. He had his leather jacket on, his hair down, and an unreadable expression on his face.

  “Hi,” she said.

  His eyes softened, but he didn’t say anything.

  She went toward him, determined to stick to her guns, but unsure of exactly what to say. Oh hell, she hated tiptoeing around. It just wasn’t her style.

  She dropped onto the loveseat and patted the cushion next to her. “Why don’t you have a seat and stay a while. Tell me your life story,” she said with a laugh.

  Val’s eyes widened, then his lips twitched and he sat down. “I don’t know, that might take too long. How about I just hit some recent highlights. The ones that might convince you to take a chance on me?”

  She struggled to breathe for a moment, then nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Val met her gaze and spoke quietly. “I grew up pretty rough. My parents died when I was so young that I don’t remember them. All I remember is the many, many foster homes I lived in. Most of them were good, but crowded. Some of them were hell. But the one thing they all had in common was that they were temporary. I always knew I’d have to move on, and things would change again.”

  He looked at her, gauging her reaction, and she smiled. She wanted to know this. She wanted to know everything. “Go on,” she urged.

  “When I was sixteen I skipped out on the system so I could look after myself. I worked odd jobs for money, but mostly I hustled pool. I was good at it, and I could live off what I made.” He shrugged. “I spent so much time in bars that it was the only place I felt at home. Somehow, owning my own place became the dream. I worked hard, saved money, and when I hit thirty I had enough for a down payment on an empty warehouse. It took two more years of hustling, bartering, blood, and sweat to turn that warehouse into Risqué, but I did it.”

  He paused, shaking his head as memories danced in his chocolate eyes. Samair remained quiet, scared that if she spoke and reminded him she was there, that he’d stop.

  “It didn’t take long for the club to gather a regular crowd, and what I didn’t know about running a nightclub I learned fast. Sex and cheap drinks bring in the customers. Over the next year I kept improving the club, cleaning it up, making the drinks more expensive, bringing in cage dancers. I wanted it to be sexy but not sleazy, so it would draw a better crowd. And it did. When I met Vera she was everything I thought I wanted. She was beautiful, sexy, sophisticated…and she wanted me.” He met her gaze then. “At least I thought she wanted me.”

  Somehow, she’d known Vera was behind it all. “What happened?”

  He shrugged again. “I thought it was love. We got married, and because I refused to use any of her or her family’s money or influence I had to continue to work damn hard at the club. She didn’t like being second place, as she saw it, and she thought that having an affair, and rubbing my face in it, would make me see things her way. Instead, it made me see things more clearly. So I left.”

  “I thought she’d be happy that I didn’t want anything from her in the divorce. Karl wanted me to go after damages, but I just wanted out. I went into the marriage with nothing more than the club, and that was all I wanted when I left. Unfortunat
ely, Vera took that as another insult. Our divorce was final just over a year ago, and three months ago she pulled some family strings and had the bank call in my loan early.”

  He explained to her how he’d needed one big event to raise a large lump sum to pay off the loan by the fifteenth of the month, three days from then, in order to keep the club.

  “Did it work? Did the party bring in enough to keep the club.” No wonder he’d been so closed off. Ever since she met him, he’d been dealing not only with a childhood that would make it hard for anyone to give trust, but an ex-wife that was determined to make him pay for her mistakes.

  Val shook his head. “Not entirely. The show brought in a lot of money, but not enough to clear the loan.”

  “Oh, Val!” Her stomach sank and she reached for him. Samair thought about everything he’d told her as she held his hand in both of hers. Then a thought hit her.

  Had he just been using her?

  He stared at her, as if he knew what she was debating in her mind.

  Yes, she decided, he had used her.

  But she’d been the one to seek him out, she’d also been the one to reiterate the fact that their relationship was strictly sexual when the emotions got too close to the surface. He’d played by the rules she’d set out, and he also made sure that he was doing something good for her in return. He might’ve used her to bring money into the club for himself, but there was no denying it had been good for her, too. She’d never have been able to do a launch for Trouble like that herself, and after everything else, he still hadn’t made enough to keep his club.

  “That sucks!” she said succinctly.

  “It’s all right.” He smiled at her. “One of the lawyers in Karl’s office has been drooling over my bike for months, so I sold it to him.”

  “You sold your Harley?”

  “It was that, or lose the club to Vera.”

  “Vera,” Samair said. She chewed on her bottom lip and met Val’s gaze.

  “That bitch from hell tried to take it all away from me. Including you.”

  “You know, some might think it’s not nice to call her a bitch from hell, no matter what she did.”

  “I call ’em like I see ’em.”

  She ducked her head and watched him from beneath her lashes. “And how do you see me?”

  He reached out, gripped her hips and pulled until she was flat on her back and he was stretched out over top of her on the cramped loveseat. He hands framed her face and he looked deep into her eyes. “I see you as mine for a long time to come.”

  Then he kissed her. His mouth covered hers slowly, leisurely, and completely. She pressed her body against his, her hands going around his back, pulling herself into his lap.

  She settled against him, her legs alongside his and her arms around his neck. It was wonderful.

  Val gave a low growl when she pulled back, but when she looked into his eyes, they were gleaming with happiness and pleasure.

  “And you’re mine,” she said with a sassy smile.

  He pulled her even closer, so they were chest to chest, and the beating of his heart fluttered against her breast. Heat flowed from him to her, seeped through her skin and into her blood as he wrapped a hand in her hair and pulled her head back. His teeth scraped along her neck and she moaned.

  “I’m all yours, baby. And we’re going to live the dream together.”

  He stood from the sofa, lifting her with him and carried her to the bed. After setting her down he stood, and glanced pointedly around the small apartment as he took off his jacket. “But not here, baby,” he said with a sexy smirk as he stretched out on the bed next to her. “I think you should move in with me.”

  She gaped at him. “When you go all in, you go all in don’t you?”

  “Living with the woman I’m in love with is on my list of fantasies. I figure you can make it come true.” He cupped her chin up with a tender hand and slid his mouth over hers. Desire flooded her system and she opened to him with a moan.

  They worked together, removing clothes between soft deep kisses and gentle touches until they were skin to skin. Val shifted between her thighs and slid home with ease. Thier bodies moved, dancing together as they went up, up, until sensation crashed over them and they cried out in completion one after the other.

  When she could breath normal again, Samair opened her eyes and turned her heard to gaze at the man laying next to her. Their gazes met and something clicked into place deep inside.

  He not only got her, and he loved her the way she was. The true to herself, live life to it’s fullest, Trouble. She was one lucky woman.

  Epilogue

  Samair jumped to her feet and let out a piercing rebel yell that echoed through the large auditorium. Val stood next to her, an indulgent grin in place as she clapped so hard her hands burned.

  On stage in front of them, a sprightly redhead took another bow with a man on each side of her. The curtain dropped, then raised, and the three took one last bow.

  “She was amazing, don’t you think?” Samair turned to Val, bursting with pride and pleasure for her friend.

  “She was.” He nodded. “And so were the costumes.”

  She elbowed him in the ribs.

  Joey’s debut performance with the newly formed dance troupe Outside The Box wasn’t the only thing they were celebrating that night. After only four months, Trouble was operating in the black.

  It helped that Val had a storage room at Risqué that they’d cleared out and turned into a small studio, and since she lived with him she didn’t have any rent to pay. Her parents still saw it as a hobby, not a business, and certainly not a career. But it didn’t matter to her.

  Brett understood, and even Cherish was coming around after getting a custom-made bustier style gown for a Christmas gift. It had taken her sister wearing the gown to a New Years Eve party and everyone’s envy to make Cherish realize what she had, but that was okay, too. Samair had learned that everyone needed to learn things in their own time, and their own way.

  “Let’s get going,” she said to Val, who was already urging her toward the door.

  “There’s no hurry. Everything will be ready when we get there. You’ve terrorized my staff so much that they wouldn’t dare mess this up. Besides that, we’re all proud of her, too.”

  Val, and the rest of the staff at Risqué, were throwing Joey a surprise good-bye party in the private room under the stairs at the club. Samair knew that it would all be ready when they got there. That wasn’t why she was in a hurry.

  She threaded her arm into the crook of his and pressed her breast against him. “Did I tell you I’m not wearing any panties?”

  He looked down at her, his eyes darkening as amusement shifted to heat. “Really?”

  “Really.” She pressed closer and flashed him a promising smile. “And I’ve never had sex in a car before.”

  * * *

  Turn the page for a sneak Peek at WICKED, the next full length True Desires novel.

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  * * *

  “Why is there a woman under your desk?”

  Karl Dawson’s steps faltered as soon as he entered the office. He stopped walking to enjoy the view of the denim covered heart shaped ass sticking out from under his assistant’s desk. Definitely female. And the way it was tilted up at an angle that made his hand itch to spank.

  “I’ve switched sides.” The smirk on Graham Nelson’s pretty face as he said that made it clear he was full of shit.

  Dressed in black slacks, a purple shirt and a pink tie, he was such a flaming homosexual that Karl toyed with the urge to hose him down with the fire extinguisher, just to see what would happen.

  Instead, all he did was raise an eyebrow, fix his assistant with a look, and deepen his voice slightly. “Graham.”

  “My friend Lara. She’s installing a wireless network for us.” Graham stood back from his desk, planted a hand on his outthrust hip, and eyeballed him. “Your client base has increased thirty percent in the last
two months alone. This is needed.”

  Karl eyeballed him right back. The divorce business was booming, and Graham was right - his legal services were in high demand with no signs of slowing down.

  Shit. He hated changes made to his computer. Computers were not his friend. Anything beyond email gave him a headache and Graham knew it. “If you put more crap on my computer and my life gets more difficult … so does yours.”

  “Actually …” a muffled voice came from Graham’s desk and Karl tried not to notice his body’s reaction to the delectable ass wiggling and waving as the woman backed out from beneath it.

  She stood casually, thick black locks streaming down her back as she tossed her head and met his gaze head on. “Once I get my hands on your laptop you’ll be able to connect to the Internet from pretty much anywhere in the building, including the restaurant downstairs. We’ve set up a dedicated server for your files and all your data has already been transferred. I can teach you how to navigate the new programs in less than fifteen minutes, and life will be easier for you both.”

  Graham waved his hand airily. “Trust me on this, Mr. Dawson. The upgrade will make my job easier, therefore your life simpler.”

  The words barely registered in his mind as Karl watched Lara check him out. He recognized the appreciation in her gaze and an answering hunger stirred inside him.

  He arched an eyebrow her way. “You’re going to teach me?”

  “Sure.” Her smile turned suggestive. “I have no problem teaching a man how to do things right.”

  “I don’t usually need instruction from my women.”

  She shrugged. “All men need instruction at some point or another.”

  Fire leapt to life inside of him, but Karl didn’t bother to respond. It had been a hell of a morning and he wasn’t really in the mood to deal with attitude from anyone, sexy or not.

  And she was very sexy.