“Ems—”
“I’m in trouble.”
My skin prickles. “What?”
She looks above my head, around the room. “I tried to leave.”
“You’re forced here?”
“No.”
“No? Christ. Fuck, Emma, why?”
“I saw—” She cuts herself off and steps closer. “Why are you here?”
“Work.”
She pinches her eyes closed. “Don’t leave me. No matter how mad you are, please, please don’t leave me here alone.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
Again, her eyes dart above me. She’s guarding herself, watching her words.
Knock, knock, knock.
Emma pivots to the door, trembling enough that I can see it despite her clothes. “Shit.”
I push through the anger, the guilt, and all of the questions about her past and concentrate on the scared girl in front of me. “What’s going on?”
“Just act normal.”
CHAPTER THREE
Emma
“Act normal?” Grayson’s raw voice rakes over me, and I watch him transform into a super-scary alpha dude as the door handle turns.
We have exactly half a second to pull this off. “Normal,” I answer.
I run my hands over my cheeks to wipe away rogue tears, and then I thread my fingers into my hair while moving my hips. Whoever comes through that door will see me dancing, not acting terrified of Bruno or emotional over the man in front of me. Truth is, I’ve never been more vulnerable in lace and heels than at this moment. The walls of the tiny room close in on me, and I’m doubly concerned about the hidden camera. Someone’s always watching. My body moves, but my gaze is frozen on Grayson. His twisted expression makes me feel as though he doesn’t even know me—because he doesn’t. Not anymore.
I want to cry. I want to run past security and forget whatever I saw downstairs. But instead, I hold my head high, faking it to keep myself safe. I can do this—I’ve danced for Gray every Wednesday for years. I step closer to him as the door opens wide.
One of Bruno’s men clears his throat, as though I don’t already know he’s here. “Everything okay in here, Ginger?”
I take a deep breath and hope for a miracle: that I don’t look terrified of the Emerald’s thugs or shell-shocked over Grayson. I tilt my head and give my most sultry, sinful smile, dropping my voice playfully low. “Think so. We’re just getting acquainted. Aren’t we, baby?”
“This can’t be happening,” he whispers against my ear.
With as much sexiness as I can manage, I place my hand on Gray’s chest and turn to look at him, batting my eyes and hoping to God he plays his part. Otherwise, they’ll call the session quits and pull me backstage. At least, security will try to remove me; I have no idea how Grayson would handle that. The amount of testosterone in this tiny space is overwhelming from these two massive men.
But security backs down. “Flag if you need something, Ginger.”
“We’re good. Aren’t we, honey?” I bat my fake eyelashes and will Grayson to agree. We can make it through this.
Grayson growls some kind of agreement, and Muscle Man nods to me. I smile as if this is just any other Wednesday at work.
“Alright.” He closes the door, and Gray and I are alone. Except for that camera.
I know what I should be doing, but the look on his face says not to. “They’re watching,” I say.
He growls. “What do you mean, you’re in trouble?”
“I mean if I don’t give the lap dance of the century right now, I’m in big effin’ trouble. Gray. Please.”
“I hate this.”
I lean closer. “You’re at work, too. So, we should work.”
God—despite everything that is going on, I still notice he smells fresh, like soap, and I roll my lip into my mouth. It’d be completely absurd in this situation to feel any arousal. But with Gray protecting me, and all this intensity, I’m not unaffected. Oh boy… I close my eyes, and the low base of the music that surrounds us rolls over me. “You said you wanted me to dance, and here I am.”
“Not like this, and you know it.”
I move my hands to his temples, fluttering my fingers to the edge of his blond hair, then slide my palms to his cheeks. The strain in his jaw radiates as I continue touching him, moving down to cup his neck and letting my thumbs smooth over his throat. His pulse pounds under my skin. “Camera, Grayson. Play your part.”
He’s so tense. “Emma—”
The show must go on, whether he’s game or not. Swaying my hips with the slow beat, I take his hands from his lap and drag them to my side then to the sash on the robe. I’m nervous, and this is unexpectedly… arousing. He doesn’t want to be here, and neither do I. But there’s a rush of emotion screaming for us both to release. I can’t explain why, but this is more than a set of practiced moves. This is my dream. This has been me dancing for him forever, and now it’s really happening. My mouth waters, and my heart rate increases. “Right now, I’m Ginger.” My robe hangs open, and I smooth my fingers over my stomach and up to my breasts. His eyes lock onto me, and I see it—the war within him. Grayson likes this as much as he hates it. I push his knees and move between his thighs then press him back against the chair. “Relax.”
“I can’t—”
My mouth is next to his ear, my fingers toying with his hair. “Let me dance for you. Not because I’m scared to leave this room.” My tongue catches his ear lobe. “Not because your new job means you have to roll with it.”
“No.”
“This is my fantasy, Gray. How I survived while you were gone.”
His body goes rigid under me. “I didn’t—”
“You didn’t know. I know, baby. Stop saying that.” I back away from him and drop my robe. His eyes burn over me, and I know he’ll give me the answer I want, because no matter how angry or frustrated he is, this is Gray and I. I refuse to let him continue beating himself up over our mistakes. I bear responsibility too, because I could’ve told him about my life. I could’ve found him—and done more than hope and dream about him. “Gray, don’t you know? No matter where in the world you were, what you did, or how long it’s been, I’ve existed for you to come home to again.”
I straddle his lap and kiss him—deep and hard. I refuse to let him tell me different. I won’t pull away from this kiss. I’m dying for his tongue, for him to take my mouth with just as much need as I have. Excitement has made me dangerously oblivious to what’s happening outside this room. My fingers curl into his shirt, and I roll my hips, begging and daring him to want me right now.
“Fuck me,” he says against my kiss. Then he owns my mouth and grips my sides. “Can’t stay away from you.”
I’m consumed by his kiss, drunk on the powerful, almost painful hold he has on me. Raw hunger unleashes from his body, and if I thought I was in charge—I was wrong.
I shiver, excitement rolling across my body from my shoulders down to my ankles. My eyes shut as he bites my lip and flexes his hips, holding me down, making me groan in insane need as I rub against his erection.
“God, Ems…”
His massive chest rises and falls in a way that matches mine. We’re a shade away from gasping and panting. “I love you, Gray.” Such sweet words in a filthy place. “As much as you love me.”
“Hold that thought because you might forget that in a minute.”
What?
Grayson’s hands lock on my bottom, and he squeezes. Hard. Oh, God. My back arches, and the bite of pain from his strong grip makes me fly high. He grinds me against his shaft, and the friction is far more than a tease.
“Because I am furious.” He bites against my shoulder, drags his teeth up my neck.
My mind spins. I can’t think, so I act only on instinct. “Holy shit.”
One of his hands runs up my spine. The other drops lower. I’m writhing in place, dizzy over him. Not once have I ever been turned on at Emerald’s. Every move, ever
y tease was mechanical, but this is extraordinary.
“What else don’t I know about you?” he growls.
All I can do is moan—and then I remember where we are. I should stop and remind him I need rescuing, but I can only think of the needy ache building in me. “There’s a camera in here.”
“Behind you or me?” He bites my shoulder.
“You,” I gasp as bites harder.
Quickly, he stands up, his head swerves, then he grabs the nearly hidden camera and rips it free. “Done.”
Well, shit, shoot, shit some more. Bruno won’t be happy about a dead camera in a private room, but Grayson unbuckles his jeans, and I don’t care about anyone outside this room. I’ve had too many years of dreaming about Gray in Emerald’s.
He falls to the chair, taking me with him. My legs wrap around him, and my arms do too. I’m surrounded by him, burrowed against his chest, and his hands slide over me as though I’m God’s gift to him.
“Pretty mama,” he whispers against my ear and pulls my thong to the side. “I need in you.”
“Yes.” The blunt head of his shaft presses against me. I’m already so wanting that I can’t wait another minute.
He squeezes me tight then pushes into me, spearing me, stretching me, making me cry out for more. Grayson drives back then thrusts his massive self back in.
“Damn, woman.” His growled words don’t sound as if they are mine to hear. But I don’t just hear them—I feel their vibrations. They make my nipples harder and set my most sensitive muscles on fire. “You’re my world. You know that?”
He sinks deep into me again, and I gasp. I hang on and clamp my mouth to his neck. Grayson pounds into me. The fury and heartbreak are there with each slam of his body into mine. The roughness—the greedy, starving need that he takes me with—is addictive. As his harsh breath burns against my skin, I climb faster, past the point where I can handle it. Ah, oh, God. “Grayson!”
I moan, come, and cry his name through clenched teeth. His heartbeat explodes against my chest as he comes, too. We’re knotted together, breathing as one and surviving a high so dark it’s spectacular.
“Love you,” I murmur against his skin. “I love you more than I can understand.”
He catches my mouth in a kiss that’s as harsh as it is sweet. I’m lost in him and completely exhausted.
Knock, knock. “Hands off the girl unless you pony up some cash,” Bruno’s voice bleeds through the door.
Oh, shit.
CHAPTER FOUR
Emma
Before I can say no and try to explain to both men that there’s nothing to see here, Gray sets me to the side. We quickly right our clothes, and a second later, the door slams open. Bruno stands there, glaring and assessing.
Grayson folds his arms over his chest. “Got a problem?”
“Know anything about my camera?” Bruno’s thick accent rolls off his tongue.
Gray’s body language shifts, and he acts as though he couldn’t care less about doing a stripper. “Not a fan of an audience.”
“Not your decision.”
I step forward. “Come on, Bruno. You know I just dance.”
Bruno’s eyes narrow, assessing Grayson, then me. “Finish up.”
“We’re good,” Grayson offers. He turns to me, angling away from Bruno, an odd expression playing on his face. I can’t figure out what he’s thinking. My mind’s still climax-clouded, and I’m suddenly shaking, not wanting to be alone with Bruno.
“Thanks for the dance.” He doesn’t kiss me but does brush the hair away from my ear, lean close, and whisper, “Back to work. I’ll get eyes on you—no worries.”
Then he walks away without another word, brushing past Bruno and leaving me uncomfortable under my boss’s intense study.
Bruno cracks his knuckles, making the process last forever, and then shoves them back into his pockets. “We need to talk about what you saw.”
“I didn’t really see anything, and I’m still sick. So, I’ll just—”
He shakes his head and opens the door to let in one of the security guys I rarely see. It’s a very cramped space, and I take a step back, but his hand lands on me. My feet don’t move, yet we’re all still moving through the door together as they drag me out.
“Hey, guys.” I struggle in his hold. “Let me go.”
There’s no response, but we’re moving away from Emerald’s open floor and toward a set of back stairs that only Bruno and his muscle use. Shit. Shoot. Shit. Bruno is going to… I don’t know what, but it’s very bad.
“Think the girl said to let go, asshole,” Grayson’s voice booms from behind me.
Thank you! I turn toward him, elbowing the guy on my arm. He shakes me, and the twist on Grayson’s face says he’s about to kill everyone here.
“Not your girl to worry over.” Security lifts me and turns.
A gut-twisting roar comes from behind me, and I’m flung to the side as Grayson rips between Muscles and me. I skitter back, then I spin to leave but slam into a solid wall of man. Dread washes over me. When I look up, I see it’s not one of Bruno’s Rasta security guys. He picks me up and hands me to another—equally big—guy.
“Aren’t you a pretty thing,” he says casually. He sounds so out of place, especially with his Australian accent, that I have no idea what is happening. I’m in his arms after being passed away from Bruno, and I still feel out of control but not about to die.
The Australian guy nods to someone. “Let’s go.”
I turn for Grayson, but he’s squared off with Bruno and security. What other choice do I—?
“Put. Her. Down,” a voice bellows from behind me.
Oh, God. That sounds way too much like my brother. My stomach bottoms out. I roll myself into a ball against the unknown Australian guy. None of this makes sense except—oh shit—I remember that I pulled the emergency lever and told Cherry to get Ryan to get me out of here. I pop my head up, praying that my ears are tricking me. Oh. Shit. Shoot. Shit. Ryan’s out of uniform, with his badge clipped to his jeans and two very large guns strapped to his side.
“Put her down, so help me—” His hand is on his holstered gun. “Emma, come here!”
The Aussie blond looks down. “You know him?”
“My brother.”
The look on his face says Oh, shit, but he tells me, “Alright then.”
From out of nowhere, security surrounds Ryan from behind. My brother’s an intimidating guy, and there’s pure, one hundred percent rage on his war-ready face. We’re in a small area full of large, violent-looking men who seem ready to fight to the death. The Aussie edges back with me still in his arms. Grayson and the other man push toward Ryan till the three of them stand shoulder to shoulder. But they’re outnumbered two-to-one.
“I have an agreement,” Bruno says. “No badges in here.”
“You don’t have an agreement with me, asshole.” Ryan squares his shoulders. “If my sister wants to leave, she gets to leave.”
Bruno swerves toward me. “Brother’s a cop?”
The Aussie’s protective hold on me tightens, reassuring me, and the dark-haired guy next to Grayson steps in front of me. “Girl goes, place closes down early tonight. We sort shit out.”
Bruno shakes his head. “Nothing to sort out.”
Aussie guy shifts again, and he’s slowly extracting us from what seems ready to be a bloodbath. Bruno casually lifts his wrist toward his mouth. I know that move! Communicating with his behind-the-scenes guys. Shit—this is so bad.
I don’t know Aussie from a hole in the wall, but Grayson said he was interviewing for a security job with good men. He’s protected me so far, so I turn to him and whisper, “There was a girl downstairs. I wasn’t supposed to see her.”
His blue eyes study me for a second then jump to the guy in front of me. “Boss.”
The dark-haired guy pivots, keeping his eye on Bruno. “Yeah.”
Aussie and dark-haired guy exchange a look, a passing of information with a
shift of their hands and eyes.
Bruno watches them then shouts into his mic, “Close it down.”
“Shit,” the Aussie says casually, even though we’re suddenly moving fast. He dives us behind a table.
Noise explodes from where we were seconds ago—flesh hitting flesh, people the size of mountains wrestling each other to the ground.
A new guy ducks under the table with us. “Talk fast.”
It’s another accent—South American maybe. His face has fading bruises. Are all these guys ready to throw punches or what? Okay. Talk fast. Um. I struggle with my thoughts. “There was a girl in a room downstairs, and I didn’t recognize her. But I heard sold…” My stomach drops all over again. “Like she was being sold.”
His swollen eyes narrow. “You saw a prostitute?”
“Bruno lets girls pro here if they want. This was more like an auction.”
“Fucking confirmation.” He shakes his head. He rambles into his wrist faster than I can speak then turns to me. “Good girl. I’m Javier. That’s Ryder. Welcome to our world, gorgeous.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Grayson
It started as three of us versus them. We could have handled it. Then the rest of the team showed up and quickly ended the brawl. Ryan’s badge was surprisingly helpful, but when all was said and done, he and I weren’t on the team that was going to wrap up this job. I was on a trial run for a job I’m now never going to get, and he didn’t need to be in the mix.
Delta goes off to do whatever Delta does behind the scenes, and I head toward a table where Javier and Ryder have safely stowed Emma. Emerald’s is chaotic. People are evacuating—men running for their cars, strippers running for their clothes. The place is wild, and my girl’s upset and being calmed by two guys I don’t know. I’m grateful they’re here, but enough of that.
I hop over a railing, and when she sees me coming toward her, Emma’s face lights up. Damn. Man, that reaction does something to me deep inside. Forgetting about the two men standing guard beside her, I scoop her into my arms, pressing her head to my chest. I need to feel her and hear her voice to know she’s alright.
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