Dirty Deeds

by Lauren Landish

  I don’t know how long it was before Hannah came back in. She’d woken me up, but I dropped off again quickly.

  I’ve never felt anything like what Jake and I did last night. It was amazing, the way his lips danced on my skin, the way electricity crackled from every touch. He was powerful, tender, demanding, and giving, all at the same time. I’ve never been driven so wild to demand that a guy fuck me. I blush as I remember telling him to fuck me.

  “Those eyes,” I say to myself, lying back and putting my forearm over my eyes. “The way he touched me, the way he looked at me . . . he almost stopped my heart.”

  There’s that nickname of his again, and as soon as the words come out of my mouth, I feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. Words and a tune start flowing through my head like a river.

  I can’t stand this creep, where is my Superman?

  He’s late, but I don’t give a damn.

  One glance in his eyes, and I know what I need.

  Gimme mouth to mouth, because he’s a total Heartstopper.

  I jump out of bed and grab a pen and notepad from my nightstand, scribbling down some lyrics as I hum the tune that’s running around in my head. It’s been a long time since I had the urge to write a song. I’ve always been more of a performer than a creator. But being with Jake seems to have inspired me.

  “What are you doing?”

  The words pierce my consciousness, and I let out a cry, my pen clattering to the table as I jump and look in the doorway. Hannah is staring at me, clearly hungover, with her hair in a disheveled blonde halo, looking like a crazy cave woman. “Jesus, Hannah, you scared the shit out of me. Ever heard of knocking?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be working with Mr. Rabbit,” she half jokes. She comes over and flops on my bed, throwing her arm over her eyes and groaning melodramatically. “Shoot me, would you? I have the worst headache.”

  “So much for being the responsible one,” I tease, closing my notebook after picking up my pen. “Talking shit about me, and you look like you got fucking wasted.”

  Hannah’s mouth pinches as she keeps her eyes covered. “I’m a grown ass woman. I can do what I want. But it won’t happen again . . .”

  The door creaks open, and we both jump and let out bloodcurdling screams. Mr. Felix stops and peers curiously back and forth between us, padding into the room before hopping up on the bed, looking at us both like he’d like to give us a long lecture on duties to the boss . . . namely, him.

  “Jesus.” We both laugh. “Can we get any jumpier?”

  Hannah lies back on the bed, still shading her eyes. “So how did you get home last night?”

  She knows damn well how I got home. That’s not what she’s asking. “Jake drove me home, remember?”

  Hannah lifts her arm, peering at me suspiciously. “And that’s all that happened?”

  I do my best to keep a straight face. “Yes, what did you think might happen?”

  Hannah grins painfully. “I don’t know, maybe you screwed him and actually killed him this time with that hungry pussy of yours? Is his body in the closet?” She gets up off my bed and goes over, yanking the door open and taking a look. “Yoo-hoo! Jake? You in here?” she calls. “If you’re alive, tap your foot. I’ll rescue you!”

  “Oh, stop it!” I laugh. “He’s not here.” I grin, deciding to turn the tables on Hannah. “Speaking of getting hot and heavy, did you get down with Nathan?”

  Hannah closes my closet, turning to look at me like I’m crazy. “You must be out of your damn mind. He’s cute and all, but he’s not my type.”

  “Mmmhmm,” I say, unconvinced. “I don’t know, you were giving him a few looks like you were more than ready to ride his pony.”

  Hannah growls. “I’m gonna kill you.” She starts toward the bed, then stops, nodding at my notebook. “What were you doing, anyway?”

  “Writing a song.”

  Hannah gawks in surprise. “A song? Now I know something’s really going on. It’s Jake, isn’t it? He’s got you seeing stars.”

  “No,” I reply, even as I blush. I’m a terrible liar when it comes to Hannah.

  “Come on, spill it. No teasing, no bullshit.”

  I look at Hannah, who’s got her arms crossed, then roll my eyes. “Okay, maybe he is the reason, but singing at the club last night awakened something in me that I didn’t think was there anymore. Something I buried, and I want to find it again.”

  I expect Hannah to laugh at me, to call me silly or something. Instead, she bites her lip then gives me a sad smile. “Okay, babe. If you need it, then I’ve got your back. Just . . .”

  “What?”

  Hannah sighs. “Don’t fall in love with Jake, okay? I could see it in your eyes, in the way you performed. You weren’t there for the crowd. You were cock teasing him and loving it. But more than that . . . I saw the way you looked at him. Just, be careful.”

  “I am,” I reply, and Hannah sighs again. “What?”

  “Nothing. I’ve got your back.”

  I bite my lip. “I know.”

  At work the following Monday, I try to avoid Jake whenever I can. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I want to see him. I want to talk to him. I want to be with him.

  Even though I try not to, I find myself stealing glances at him when he’s in his office. As he talks, as he gestures, everything he does, he’s sexy. He commands the room like he owns it. His confidence is pure arousal, and I can’t help but rub my thighs together as I try to get work done.

  Also, I can't get the song out of my head, and I find myself scribbling lyrics whenever Jake is around. Not all of them fit in this song, but there are some that do.

  “Keeping a diary over there?” Matt asks out of the blue while I’m in the midst of trying to write the song instead of working.

  “What’s it to you?” I growl, snapping the notebook closed.

  “You keep looking off into space lately, scribbling in that book. Got someone on your mind?” He raises his eyebrows toward Jake’s office, and it unsettles me. I’m sure he’s just fishing. How the hell could he know anything?

  “Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”

  Matt walks away, grumbling under his breath about moody bitches, and I’m pissed off. But more importantly, I’m wondering if he’s actually picked up on something. If he has, other people probably have also.

  After lunch, I get up and go knock on Jake’s door. Elena’s still out at lunch, but Jake just came back from downstairs, and if I’m going to have any private moments with him, this is the time.

  “Come in!”

  I step inside, closing the door quietly behind me. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he says back, giving me a smile that makes the warmth between my legs rise to a deep burn. I do my best to reserve myself, but it’s hard. He looks so handsome with his tie loosened and his hair ruffled from a fresh shower. He just finished his lunchtime workout. Watching his biceps flex as he fixes his shirt and tie, I remember how his lips and hands felt all over my body. The tension is so thick, I want to run and jump into his arms, sweep the stuff off his desk, and have him take me right here on top of his blotter.

  I blink, clearing my mind. I’m about to tell him that what happened in the elevator and later when we got down and dirty was a fluke, that it can’t happen again. Suddenly, he grins, holding up a hand. “Wait, I can see what’s in your eyes, and I’ll let you tell me, but first . . . I have a proposition for you.”

  “What?” I ask, hoping and also not hoping it’s for me to get on my knees under his desk. Because I just might do it if he asks.

  “Nathan’s been going gaga all weekend, and I have too. We want to put you as a drawing act. One night on the weekends. You said you love to sing. The pay would be good. Not better than here, but it’s only one night a week.”

  I stand in shock. I hadn't expected something like this. Sexual? Sure. But to sing . . . “Oh, my God.”

  “The people loved you. Nathan and I were s
hocked by how many people requested for you to come back. Seriously, you should see the club’s Facebook page. There’s over three hundred likes to someone requesting that you sing some more. They want you.”

  His eyes gleam, seeming to say, And I want you too.

  I breathe, still stunned. The tune of the song I’ve begun writing for him hums in my head. Staring at his face, I realize I can’t say no to him. I’m weak in the knees. But I also don’t know if I should say yes.

  “Well?” he says, taking his seat behind his desk and giving me that same smile. “I know you want this.”

  I stand there, leaning against his office door, uncertain. The fact is, music to me is like an addiction. It was so hard to walk away from it last time. I spent weeks unable to sleep on Fridays and Saturdays because those were my performance nights. I still wake up sometimes with a little voice inside me wondering where the stage is, where the crowds are.

  If I do this, I don’t want that to happen again. Jake doesn’t know what he’s asking for. I’ll have to train again. Vocal exercises, getting my body back in shape to maintain the high energy performances that I have to do . . . wardrobe, practicing lyrics, all of it. How’s it going to affect my work?

  I tried the club scene before, and it went nowhere but having one club love me. This can’t be much different. Sure, I’m excited right at this moment, and yeah, Club Jasmine loved me Friday night, but once people got used to me, it would die down. I’d be right back to being a local act and that’s it.

  Still, maybe it’s enough. The idea of singing, of being on stage . . . even if it’s not my name selling out big shows, it feeds a piece of my heart. When I sing, I put my soul out there, vulnerable and excited to see if the audience will respond with cheers. And I can see Jake genuinely wants me to do it. Damn me, there’s a part of me that wants to please him, too. Finally, I take a deep breath and look into his expectant eyes.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Jake

  I hate the smell of cigar smoke. Sure, it’s got the whole alpha male mystique attached to it, but damn if most cigars don’t smell like burning dirty undershirts.

  Tell that to Nathan, though. “We’re looking at recouping our investment and turning a working profit within six months,” Nathan says over a haze of his cigar smoke. Thank God we’re up here where nobody except security is allowed and the air conditioners can deal with his disgusting habit.

  “Show me the money,” I say, sitting back and rubbing my hands in relief that this is going well. I was half-expecting for us to fall flat on our faces. I knew the market. So many clubs fail. But everything is turning out better than I dreamed.

  “We’re killing it, Jake!” Nathan says, grinning while sipping on some champagne, “And with karaoke night being a success, I think we should adopt it regularly. By the way, did your girl say yes about doing weekends?”

  My girl. The thought is strange, but I like the sound of it. After I tasted her, after I filled her up and carried her to bed, I know that Nathan’s right. Even now, I can’t stop thinking about her.

  “She said she would think about it.” I don't point out that she isn’t my girl. She will be soon enough.

  “Think about it?” Nathan asks, surprised. “Didn’t you say she was crazy about singing? What gives?”

  I think back to what she told me and what I saw in her room. “She has some hang-ups. She’s been burned before. But I think she’ll come through.”

  Nathan shakes his head and puffs some more cigar smoke toward the ceiling. “Shit, I hope so. Those people were in fucking love with her! She rocked that stage like nobody’s business. Shit, Beyoncé who? Selena what? Fuck that skank bitch Miley Cyrus. I’m telling you, man, Roxy should be a household name! One name too. She’s gonna be so big if you say Roxy, the whole fuckin’ world knows who we’re talkin’ about.”

  I sit back, sipping my own champagne and chuckling to myself. It’s funny how Nathan went from calling her a sleazy broad to this. But I don’t blame him. Part of that is Nathan. He’s always been one to do a lot of shit talking until he really likes you. Most of it is Roxy, though. Her taking this gig will end up doing big things for her. I can just feel it.

  I chuckle. “Brother, I totally agree. She is pretty amazing, isn’t she?”

  Andre’s voice crackles over the small walkie Nathan carries. “Hey, I think that creepy dude is back at his shit.”

  My heart jumps in my chest as we both leap to our feet, Nathan just a fraction of an inch faster in snatching the radio up. “Where?” Nathan almost yells.

  Andre’s voice crackles back. “At the bar. Near the bathrooms. He’s wearing a fucking purple blazer. Can’t miss him.”

  We both take off, Nathan running ahead of me, pumping his shorter legs as fast as they will allow. I’m behind him simply because I don’t want to send him tumbling down the stairs. It’s early still, and the club isn’t quite packed since it’s just a Thursday night. We reach the foot of the stairs and I reach out, grabbing Nathan’s shoulder. “Wait!”

  “What?” he asks, turning. “Let’s go bust this motherfucker!”

  “No doubt,” I reply, “but we need to make sure we don’t freak everyone out. Go chill, okay?”

  Nathan takes a big breath but nods. “Fine, I’m chill. Now where is he so I can go unchill?”

  We look, and I see him first at the bar, that loud blazer making him stand out. He’s pressuring some girl who’s saying no in heavily-accented English.

  The game is up, though, when the girl’s eyes flicker over to Nathan and me in desperation and the guy turns. Seeing us, he takes off. Nathan flies through the crowd while I cut at an angle. He’s so busy looking behind him for Nathan that I barely have to do anything to grab his arm and spin him around, locking him in an armlock with my other hand grabbing the back of his horrendous jacket. “Shouldn’t have come back,” I say in a threatening tone.

  “Let me go, man!” the guy whines, squirming in my grasp. “I didn’t do nothing!”

  “You’re full of shit, you . . .” Nathan yells before he lowers his voice, getting up close to the guy as I start pulling him toward the door. “You’re fucking scum of the earth,” Nathan rasps.

  Nathan leads the way to the side door as we drag the guy outside. I see John, one of the security guys, covering our back, which I’m glad for. The former Delta Force operative can make sure we don’t take things too far.

  “Is this your thing, going around and drugging women in clubs?” Nathan demands as I hold onto the guy. “How many?”

  The guy sputters, trying to play it innocent. “I didn’t drug nobody. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re lying, asshole,” I rasp in his ear, jerking him around. “I drank one of your little spiked beers. So Nathan, what do we do to him?”

  “You already know my answer. I say eye for a fuckin’ eye,” Nathan growls, cracking his knuckles. “He wants to drug and fuck women? I say we make him a bitch.”

  Nathan’s threat makes the man struggle wildly, and he jerks his head back, catching me on the lip. I feel my lip split, and I grunt in pain as I pull my head back, loosening my grip just enough that the guy breaks free.

  He takes off, trying to make a run for it, but Nathan’s quick for his size and tackles him around the knees, taking him down to the ground. Before Nathan can move, though, the guy kicks Nathan in the shoulder and tries to get up before my flying bodyweight drives him onto his back on the concrete.

  I pop him once in the face, his head rocking back and hitting the concrete. I rear back again, but Nathan grabs me, pulling me off.

  “He’s done, man!” he says. “His head went down pretty hard. You keep going and you’ll be talking with the cops.”

  He’s right. Adrenaline just kind of took over. “John, call the cops,” I say.

  “Just a second,” Nathan says, turning and punting the guy as hard as he can in the ass. He howls in pain, and I gotta believe that a size eight pointy wing tip up y
our ass has to hurt. “Get this fucking piece of shit outta here!”

  After the cops come by, we go back in the club, where we’re both treated to a standing ovation and cheer from the patrons—the story’s spread that fast. “See, brother?” Nathan says, patting me on the back. “Take out the trash, and the people love you!”

  It’s just after midnight when I walk into my apartment. I know I look like hell. I’m wearing another torn shirt, and I’ve got a bruised hand to go with my busted lip. Icing it helped some, but I’m going to look strange in the office tomorrow.

  As I step into the living room, I surprise Sophie, who quickly flips her tablet face down on the sofa. “Jake,” she says, jumping up, her eyes looking furtive and nervous. “I didn’t know you’d be back so early.”

  I’m sure I just caught her doing something, but my brain is too overloaded to consider what it could have been. “It’s after midnight, Soph. What were you doing?”

  Sophie’s guilty look makes me more curious as she shifts from side to side. “I was just watching this gross video. You know, girl stuff, disgusting, really. You wouldn’t wanna see it.”

  I can tell she’s lying, but I’m too exhausted and emotionally drained to push the issue. Instead, I remind myself to keep a closer eye on her. “Well, you’ve got school tomorrow.”

  Sophie squints her eyes, peering at me. “Jake, your lip . . . what the hell happened to you?”

  I shrug, not wanting to go into it. “Just some club business. Roughed up some douche.”

  “What the fuck?” Sophie asks, shocked. “Jake, you got into a fight?”

  I shake my head. “Remember when I said I got drugged? Same asshole came in tonight, trying the same angle on some girl.”

  Sophie grins, going into the kitchen to return with a popsicle, which she hands to me. “Glad you got him.”

  I take the frozen treat gratefully. “I am, too. We already called the police, and the girl he’d been stalking tonight gave a statement. His ass is going down for a while.”

  I put the popsicle against my lip, sitting down on the couch. I pat the spot beside me, saying nothing when Sophie moves her tablet out of the way. She sits, curling her leg underneath her, and I give her a lopsided smile. “So what’s been going on with you?”