by T Gephart
“This place looks amazing Tay. You are a genius.” Despite the crazy mis-match of fabrics and colour, the room was very easy on the senses.
“Yeah, well it sure isn’t Rainbow Room. The owner wanted different so I had a bit of fun.” Taylah was being modest. She was a genius when it came to design. She had this innate ability to tune in to a room’s strengths and weakness and turn it into brilliance. It was for this reason she could pick and choose what design jobs she took and she wasn’t hurting for choice.
“Ladies.”
I took in the tall, athletic frame that was now standing directly in front of me. A sexy smile teased his lips as the light hit his dark brown eyes. His dark goatee was perfectly trimmed and his olive completion was unmarred except for a scar above his left eye, though it looked to have happened long ago. The imperfection did nothing to inhibit his allure. He was strangely beautiful. Well dressed, in what looked to be an expensive suit, the material hugged his body lovingly.
“Nick.” Taylah held out her hand. “The club is doing well.” Apparently she knew tall, dark and handsome, but then again there weren’t many people in the city Taylah didn’t know. They shook hands with familiarity, but cordially, so I guessed it was a professional affiliation rather than a personal one.
“Indeed it is. The new direction has been favorable with the clientele.” His smiled widened. “And who is your friend? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making her acquaintance.” Nick’s eyes turned to me and he held out his hand. He had an accent that I couldn’t place, possibly European? He was confident, but more than that, he seemed dangerous.
“Nick, this is my friend Lexi.” Taylah made the introduction and confirmed what I already had guessed, “Nick is the owner of this club.”
“Lexi?” The way he said my name was odd, almost as if he was questioning me. I took the hand he offered and shook it to be polite.
“Nick.” I wasn’t going to be rattled by some guy in a nicely cut suit, even if this was his club.
“You look familiar to me.” He gently stroked his goatee as if trying to place me.
“I doubt it.” I smiled easily though I hoped my cover hadn’t been blown. “I’m no one you would know.”
“I disagree.” He stated simply as his eyes darted to the security guard approaching. “Excuse me ladies, I have some business to attend to. Please avail yourself of the bar, my staff will see that you are well taken care of.” With a curt nod he excused himself and left.
“Please tell me he wasn’t one of your fuck-buddies?” Taylah whispered nervously in my ear.
“No, I would have remembered him. Maybe he’s seen me with Alex?” I tried to reason though he didn’t seem to be the type of guy that read People magazine or watch Entertainment Tonight.
“He’s intriguing though. Who is he?”
“Hmmm good question. Don’t know much about him. Nick Cass hired me to inject some life into this place, but made it pretty clear he wasn’t up for my game of twenty questions. I even googled him. All that turned up was that he was a club owner in New York, which I already knew. He has a couple of clubs around town but other than that, I couldn’t even find a residential address. His businesses check out. There is no way I would have agreed to work with him if he was shady, so he is either boring as bat shit or he’s gone to a lot of trouble to hide who he is.” Taylah’s need to know was legendary. I was positive the lack of information was more than an upset for her.
DarNell eyed us curiously from a distance. He was keeping his side of the bargain and had expanded the circumference of protection even though he didn’t seem pleased.
Taylah frowned. “Well either way, he’s not the kind of guy to run to the press so even if he knows who you are, I’d say we’re fairly safe.”
Despite being a club owner Nick didn’t seem like the type of guy who liked the limelight. I knew of clubs who had relationships with photographers, they traded information for kickbacks on exclusive picture deals, but this place did not look like one of them. Nick didn’t seem like a person who did favours, it was more likely the other way around.
We made our way through the crowd to the large ornate bar. Like the rest of the club, it was overly opulent and incredibly well stocked. Bottles of spirits lined the floor-to-ceiling mirrored shelves. Strategically placed wooden ladders could be rolled across to access the highest shelves. The ridiculous selection on offer would be able to quench even the most obscure liquid craving.
Taylah leaned across the bar and ordered our drinks. The bartender promptly returned with two shot glasses and a bottle of Belvedere Vodka.
“Shots?” I stared at the glasses as the bartender poured. I thought Tay was ordering cocktails or maybe Champagne. Taylah rarely did shots, and for me, it had been a while. It seemed she had some serious plans for this evening.
“Yeah, well I promised you a good night, and I can’t see that happening with a couple of Appletinis. Though I have to tell you, you can probably drink me under the table so be gentle with me.” She laughed as we clicked our shot glasses before downing the first one.
The vodka was smooth but warm as it travelled down my throat. It didn’t have the harshness of tequila, but was no less potent. My skin tingled from the injection of alcohol into my system. It had been a while between drinks.
Taylah pulled out her credit card and handed it to the bartender. “We’re going to need to a few more rounds. I think it will be easier if we start a tab.” The bartender shook his head as his thick Chicago accent burst from his mouth. “You’re money’s no good here. Boss’s orders.” He tipped his head to where Nick was standing over the other side of the room as he continued to pour us another shot.
“Well that could be dangerous.” She put her credit card back in her purse. “Your boss hasn’t seen my girl here drink. He might want to rethink that.” She gestured to me as I downed my second shot.
The warmth spread through my body and it felt nice. A smile crept across my lips as I slammed my shot glass on the bar. I felt the sweat bead underneath the heaviness of my wig.
“She’s tiny.” The bartender laughed in disbelief. “Hey Kyle, come check this out.” He called to another bartender mixing cocktails in a Boston Shaker.
“Hey sweetheart,” Kyle smiled as his eyes fell over the curves of my newly-enhanced breasts. He had no idea who I was. “Ben here not taking care of you?”
“Ben seems to have not noticed my glass is empty.” I tapped my glass on the bar. Taylah screwed up her face as she took her second shot.
“Seems like short-stuff over here thinks she might be drinking the boss out of his profits.” Ben folded his arms across his chest, ignoring the thirsty people vying for his attention.
“Haven’t you boys ever heard? It’s not the size that’s important it’s what you do with it?” I smirked, the shots of Belvedere were already giving me a slight buzz.
“Didn’t you hear her? Her glass is empty.” Kyle didn’t take his eyes off me as he picked up the bottle and poured another round for both Taylah and me.
While Tay hesitantly brought the glass to her lips, I had already finished mine. I placed my empty shot glass back down on the bar.
“Wow short-stuff. You might want to slow down,” Ben teased, his brow arched as Kyle poured yet another.
I took the glass and swallowed, while Taylah simply shook her head, letting her glass sit on the bar. “If I wanted advice, I’d call my dad.” I waved my empty glass in front of them.
“Lex, maybe you should slow down.” As Taylah made no attempt to take another drink, I picked up her glass and swallowed her shot too.
“I thought we were having fun tonight?” I pouted, the rapid shots of vodka making me feel giddy. I wasn’t drunk, but I was feeling pretty amazing. I knew the emotion was manufactured but right now, I didn’t care. I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular other than what was happening in front of me and that was pure heaven.
“Sweetheart, we aren’t going to have any trouble
with you tonight are we?” Kyle’s eyes gleamed, almost inviting the trouble he warned me not to cause.
“Not if you keep those shots coming and shelve the side order of judgement.” I pointed to the bottle still in his hand. My voice didn’t falter. I was done being scrutinised, and it felt so good to let that shit go. Ben reluctantly moved to serve other patrons though seemed annoyed he had relinquished control of the bottle, thus no longer having a reason to be on our side of the bar.
Kyle slowly filled my glass. “Maybe Ben should warn the boss?”
“Why don’t you tell me about him instead?” I raised the glass to my lips and allowed the smooth liquid to flow down my throat. Taylah waved her hand over her glass to indicate she was done, at least for now.
“Tell you about Ben?” Kyle asked he placed the bottle on the bar while Ben grinned at the mention of his name.
“No, your boss,” I glanced over to where Nick had been standing though he was noticeably absent now.
“Can’t help you with that, sweetheart,” Kyle shook his head. “If you want to know something about him, you’re going to have to ask yourself. Though I should warn you, best you don’t.”
“Hey short-stuff. You done pounding shooters?” Ben called from the other side of the bar. “Your friend sure looks like she’s done. How about you let me make the two of you something sweet?” He grabbed a Boston and started mixing colourful spirits.
“If you make me a Cosmo, I’ll kick your arse,” I threatened, not really wanting to take a break from Mr. Belvedere.
“Don’t doubt it,” Ben smirked back as he threw ice into the shaker.
The phone under the bar trilled and Kyle pulled the handset to his ear. He plugged his other ear with his finger in an effort to hear the caller over the noise of the bar. No mean feat I’m guessing.
There were a few well-placed grunts and nods before the call was ended and he returned the phone back to its base.
“You’ve been summoned.” Kyle pointed to the balcony across the club. “Boss said to send you up the VIP area. Guess you must have made an impression on him.” He winked as he wiped down the bar.
“Well, Taylah and I are happy just where we are so I guess your boss will be waiting a while.” I grabbed the two Martini glasses Ben had poured our custom cocktails into and waved goodbye. I handed Taylah her glass and pulled her toward the dance floor.
“Um Lexi, maybe the VIP area isn’t such a bad idea?” She juggled her glass as we walked through the crowd.
“Screw that. I want to dance.” I swallowed the cocktail in one continuous drink, my head spinning from the lethal mix of deliciousness Ben had concocted. He was right. It was sweet yet still punchy.
“OK, whatever you want Lex. I’m not the one who has to deal with Rock Star when you are hung over tomorrow.” Taylah sipped her drink. “Wow. This is freaking amazing.”
“I know,” I nodded. “I could drink like ten of those.” I waved to Ben and Kyle who were studying us from the bar. They didn’t wave back and turned away quickly, busying themselves with the thirsty horde in front of them. Rude. Ben’s eyes glanced back nervously in our direction and then raised up to the balcony above us. I followed his line of sight and caught the unmistakable shadow of Nick, good looking and very mysterious club owner, leaning against the glass wall. We were being watched. Perhaps he wasn’t used to his offer of VIP treatment being turned down, or maybe he just had stalker tendencies, but while I thought it was both rude and odd my care factor was a big fat zero right now. I continued on my quest which, right now, was to dance.
“Come dance with me Tay,” I tugged lightly on her arm. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol—a massive possibility—but I no longer cared if anyone knew who I was.
“Lex, I love ya, but I don’t dance. I have two left feet. It’s like a miracle I can walk in heels. You really feel like a trip to the emergency room?” She refused to move any further. “Go, have fun. I’m going to go check out the bathrooms.”
“Fine,” I conceded. “Get me another drink on your way back.”
I stepped onto the dance floor and closed my eyes. I let the beat of the music and the rhythm of the crowd carry me deeper into a trance. I moved in time as sweaty, fevered bodies collided with mine, yet I didn’t care. It felt amazing. I let myself go as all the tension of the last few weeks left my body and while I knew most of what I was feeling was alcohol induced, I was free. Two hands grabbed around my waist and yanked me back onto a hard body. At first I thought someone had accidently knocked into me. Everyone was kind of mashed into each other due to the close proximity of the other dancers, but when I felt the random owner of the body grind his junk firmly against my arse, I knew it was intentional. Whoever he was, he was excited and very hard. “Hey baby,” he whispered into my ear.
“Get your hands off me, arsehole!” I bucked against him spinning around violently ready to punch the living shit out of whoever it was.
A sexy smile spread across his face to greet me.
“Alex? What are you doing here?” I stared at him in disbelief. He had obviously changed since I left him in our bedroom. Clad in black leather pants and heavy black boots, he demanded attention. A fitted blue t-shirt completed his look, which not only made his eyes look amazing but also showcased his incredibly toned torso. The dog tags, which hung from his neck, caught the light from the strobe and enhanced his perfectly formed jaw. There were no words to describe how good he looked. He was down-right delicious. It was like I had been on one of those crazy juice fast diets and now I had sat down to an all-you-can-eat buffet. I was starved and the course I wanted to start with was dessert.
He moved his hands back around my waist and pulled me close against his body, his arousal teasing me through the fabric of our clothes.
“You mad?” His mouth twisted into a delicious half grin. “’Cause you know I love it when you’re mad.” He slowly moved against me, the friction driving me crazy. All I seemed able to manage was a shake of my head in response. My mind, clouded with alcohol, and my body, frenzied with need, made it impossible for me to be able to perform two simple functions such as stand up right and speak simultaneously.
He tilted his head and his hot breath teased my ear. “Hmmm so quiet? It’s not like you not to have something to say.”
It took every ounce of restraint I had not to tear his clothes apart and fuck him right there on the dance floor. Some women have that fantasy where when their man returns to them after a long absence, it’s all slow and romantic. There would be a wind machine blowing and dramatic music piped in the background as their desperate declarations of love and commitment spill from their lips. I didn’t share that recycled romance paperback novel sentiment. Fuck that. What I wanted was raw. It clawed at my skin, made it difficult to breathe, and all I could think about was getting him inside of me. It had been too long and I was hungry.
“Was conversation really what you had in mind?” I whispered in his ear. I kept my body moving against his. “’Cause I’m not in the mood to talk.” I turned my back to him and seductively moved my hips against his crotch.
“Well what are you in the mood for?” His hands slowly moved down my body. His tongue flicked against the lobe of my ear, sending a charge of electricity through my body that probably could have illuminated Beijing.
I leaned back against his chest, letting his arms envelop me. We both kept moving. I could feel the heat of his body radiating through the thin fabric of his t-shirt and the thumping of his heartbeat. He gently pushed the damp strands of my red wig away as he bowed down his head to my neck. His hot breath gave me goose bumps as he dragged his lips across my skin. While the sensations were familiar, it felt strangely new. It was like I was again discovering him for the first time, the excitement of wanting him so badly it hurt while still trying to play it cool.
“Alex.” I turned my face to meet his lips. He kissed me. Hard. Desperate. Hungry. The tenderness that had been there the last few times we had kissed was gone as he spun
my body around to face him. As his tongue invaded my mouth with urgency, a low growl tore through his throat. “I need to get inside you. Now.”
My head spun with an overload of sensory stimulation. This is what I had wanted for weeks and now here we were, in a random club in Midtown, on the dance floor with light, music, insanity, questionable sobriety—only on my part—and enough pheromones to start producing our own shady infomercial for cologne.
This was not a smart idea. In fact on a scale of one to ten, this was a negative fifteen. I had imagined the scenario at least a dozen times in my head and not one of those times did I see our reintroduction into intimacy being in some public bathroom. As giddy as I was, the irony was not lost on me, that I was about fuck my rock star husband in a club like some groupie. Though I was trying to be seductive and sexy, the thought made me giggle as I tugged at his arm and guided him slowly through the crowd.
As we neared the edge of the dance floor the crowd thinned and the lights were dimmer. My heart raced with anticipation like I was a teenage virgin about to get my cherry popped. His body was dangerously close to mine, he was either unwilling or unable to let me go and I loved that he seemed to be feeling the same desperation I was. We continued walking and I eyed Taylah at the bar. Responsible Lexi would let Taylah know that I was about to get down and dirty so she wouldn’t worry if she noticed my absence. Of course Responsible Lexi checked out about twenty minutes ago when Alex showed up. Oh who am I kidding? When have I ever been responsible?
My feet wobbled underneath me as we reached the darkest corner of the club. My body had picked that exact moment to remind me I had been sinking shots with a cocktail chaser not more than an hour ago. Alex steadied me before pinning me up against one of the back walls. “How much have you had to drink baby?” He breathed against my neck.
“Enough to not care where I am as long as it’s with you,” I smiled as I tried to pull him closer, my hands finding their way to his taunt, athletic ass.
