Year of the Scorpio: Part Two

by Stacy Gail

  “A little past four in the afternoon. You’ve slept the day away, which means your body needed it. How are you feeling?”

  Naked. Very, very naked. “Better, thank you. The, uh, the oatmeal seemed to do the trick.” That and three orgasms, but there were some things a girl just didn’t share with complete strangers.

  Jubilee beamed. “Nothing better for an unsettled tummy than oatmeal. I remember in my early days here, one of my asshole johns beat me like a drum. Left me feeling like I’d never move again, much less eat. Worse yet, the place had just been taken over by your daddy, so I didn’t know who I was dealing with on that front. I was so worried this new boss man was going to fire me when he saw what condition I was in.” She chuckled, a sweet, nostalgic sound that filled the room while I just stared at her. “That man took one look at me before he muttered some cuss words in Russian, scooped me up and carried me into the finest room in the place. He then proceeded to make me a bowl of oatmeal with cream and honey, all the while swearing that it was his sainted mother’s own recipe, and that it could cure anything. He even sat beside the bed and watched me eat every last bit of it before he went out and chopped off the hand of the asshole who dared to use it as a weapon against me. I’ve been sold on oatmeal’s curative powers ever since—and on how wonderful your daddy was.”

  I watched her carefully, as always on alert whenever I met someone who had personal knowledge of my late father. “Um. My daddy?”

  “Polo called you Dasha, didn’t he? Borysko Vitaliev had a little girl by that name, and Polo’s talked about you since day one, so I figured that was who you were.” She gave me a brilliant smile. “You look just like Borysko, you know. Dark eyes, dark hair, gorgeous golden skin, and that defensive air that puts walls between you and the rest of the universe. I used to think Borysko was the most isolated man I’d ever known, if that makes any sense. I often wondered what torments he’d had to go through to have such prickly defenses and trust issues. But now I see you’re like that too, so maybe it’s a genetic thing.”

  Unbidden in my mind came the image of Polo flying backward from what should have been a killing blow, only to find out everything had been a lie. “Yep. No trust issues here. Gotta be a genetic thing.”

  “Well, I think you’re absolutely beautiful. It’s no wonder Polo’s been stuck on you since you were babies.”

  Aw. That was sweet. “Thanks, though I don’t know if being stuck is an accurate way to describe how Polo felt about me back then.”

  “Believe me, it’s totally accurate. Whenever we had our sex education lessons, that boy had to close his eyes just to shut out that he was with me, and every time he came he said your name, not mine.”

  Annnnd, that was far, far less sweet. “Um…”

  At my unenthusiastic response Jubilee glanced over, rolled her eyes and pulled something pink and frothy out of a paper grocery bag. “Don’t you dare get all uptight on me now, little bird, not when we’re getting along so well. I’m no threat to what you and your young man have, any more than I’m a threat to the sun just because I have a bright disposition. I’m no other woman, you understand me? I’m just someone who got paid to teach a shy little virginal boy what the hell he was supposed to do in the sack. I can’t help it if a good time was had by all.”

  Oh, dear God, she was right, and I hated that. I also began to hate myself for being a jealous bitch. “Of course. It’s just…”

  “What?”

  “Well…okay, I’m going to be really honest here.”

  “Please do.”

  “It’s just kind of awkward, talking to a spectacular, confident woman with the biggest rack I’ve ever seen in my life, about the man I love and knowing you’ve had sex with him.” I paused, considering. “A lot of sex with him. Probably more than I’ve had with him so far. In fact, I think I’m going to shut up now because I’m getting even more jealous and kind of pissed off.”

  “Oh my goodness, you sweet child, I don’t know which compliment to thank you for first—the one about my boobies, or the one about being jealous of a wrinkly-assed, ancient woman who’s old enough to be your mother. In fact,” she added, looking thoughtful, “if I’d met your daddy before he’d married your mother, I’d have done every damn thing I could have to make sure that I’d been your mother. Your daddy was such a man, if you know what I mean. Great stamina, too. And he did have an insatiable appetite for busty blondes like me. There was this one time—”

  “I’m actually going to stop you right there, if you don’t mind. I’m sorry, but…TMI.”

  “Oh. Right.” Another chuckle escaped Jubilee, this time much more bawdy, and I tried very hard not to make an ick face. “Sorry about that, darlin’, I got carried away for a minute and forgot who I was talking to. Get me going on my favorite subject and I could just gab all day long.”

  It was remarkable, how genuinely afraid I was to ask. “My father is your favorite subject?”

  “Good Lord, no.” She tipped a wink at me. “But sex sure as hell is.”

  “Oh.” I took a moment to digest that. “Okay. Between you and me, I’m much more comfortable with sex being your favorite subject. Yay for sex.”

  “Ha! You’re a hoot.” Jubilee grinned, turning her attention back to laying out clothing. “Yay for sex, indeed. Do you remember your first time?”

  The unexpected question caught me flat-footed, and this time the ick face came out in full force. “Unfortunately. All four minutes of it.”

  “Oh, darlin’, I’m so sorry. I should have gotten Polo to you sooner.”

  The thought of what he’d given me on the table was enough to make my whole body shiver in remembered satisfaction. “What matters is that we’re together now.”

  “True enough. My first time,” she added with a dreamy sigh, “was on my boyfriend’s parents’ bed when I was a junior in high school. Of course it wasn’t with my boyfriend, but rather his gold-level, Grade-A stud of a daddy. And oh, did that man know how to deflower a virgin. He said the dirtiest, most exciting things I’d ever heard, and he was hung like a damn horse. I kid you not, I saw stars.”

  “Wow.” Really, there was nothing else I could say. “Like a horse?”

  “Mm-hm, and even then a lot of horses probably would have been jealous. From that day on, I was hooked. I couldn’t get enough of sex—doing it, reading up on it, learning what made my partners happy, teaching others how to leave their inhibitions behind and do what comes naturally. I’d found out that I’m at my happiest when I’m feeling sexy, so if that made me a slut or a whore or whatever else the judgmental stone-throwers of the world wanted to label me, then so be it. Those are just words, and they can’t hurt me. But denying what I was put on this earth to do…well, that’s when a person hurts their soul, you know? To find happiness, you have to be true to yourself. So I am.”

  “That makes a lot of sense.” As I hugged my knees to my chest, I found myself looking at Jubilee with new eyes. Somehow I had assumed she’d been forced into the sex trade like so many desperate women I’d heard about in the media. Part of me had automatically pitied her because of that. But Jubilee was no one’s victim. This lady had possessed the confidence right from the beginning of adulthood to reach out and own her unconventional life, and she spat in the eye of anyone who dared to shame her for it.

  I had to admit, there was a lot to admire in that.

  “You know something, Jubilee?”

  “What’s that, little bird?”

  “I’ll bet my father was crazy about you.”

  “You know, I think he was. And I adored him too, in my own way. But since your daddy understood that I’m not the settling-down type, we became the best of friends, and that was even better. You and Polo are friends, right?”

  Now it was my turn to grin. “The best.”

  “See? You know what I’m talking about. You get the best of both worlds, having your lover be your best friend. I’m so happy the two of you finally hooked up,” she added, pressing a hand to
her magnificent chest. “Just so you know, I was pretty damn sure I was training that shy boy for you, Borysko’s precious little girl, so you shouldn’t have any complaints about his performance.”

  “I’m a huge fan of your work,” I blurted before I could even think about stopping myself. “The only complaint I could possibly have is that he knows so much more about sex than I do. I’m a total beginner compared to Polo.”

  “Oh darlin’, I can fix that.”

  My cheeks began to burn as I imagined the possibilities. “Fix it? You mean…like…teach me?”

  “Of course. In fact, I’ve got a class at five. You interested?”

  Nothing in the world could have held back my delighted grin. “Very.”

  Polo

  It took Polo longer than anticipated to get back to Celestial Bodies, in part because he had to convince himself that he wasn’t being followed. For two months he’d had the dubious luxury of being dead, which meant he’d been able to move about the city with absolute freedom. He still could, but in his mind things had changed. Now that Dash knew he was still alive, he had to be more careful.

  Not for himself, but for her.

  It was one hell of a relief that Dash no longer believed he was six feet under, but the timing couldn’t have been shittier, he thought, drumming his fingers against the wheel. With people still looking to take her out, that meant she and everyone else around her was in danger. Hiding her at Celestial Bodies wasn’t ideal, and the longer they stayed there the more likely someone was going to figure out where she was.

  Then the shit would really hit the fan.

  If only he’d been able to take out the fucker who’d started this game right from the outset. That had been the plan originally; a hit coming from a dead hitman seemed like a piece of cake at the time. His enemy never would have seen it coming.

  Unfortunately, Polo hadn’t factored in his target’s rampant paranoia, or the army he’d gathered around himself like the scared little bitch he was. Polo had tried countless times to get close enough to erase the bastard, but it always wound up being a bust. The guy was just too much of a ball-less wonder to poke his head out of his well-fortified fortress surrounded by his ragtag army.

  For two months this had gone on, and as that time had slipped by he’d almost lost his fucking mind thinking about what his so-called death had to have been doing to Dash. Ultimately he hadn’t been able to take another day of knowing that his woman was going through life without him, so he’d changed tactics.

  For the past week he’d focused on getting proof of who killed Konstantin Medvedev. Unfortunately that proof was almost impossible to come by, and now that he had Dash with him, his timetable had shortened considerably. While people might not be looking for him, they were definitely looking for her. That meant they couldn’t stay in one place for long. Celestial Bodies had great security, sure, but it was still a public place where anyone could stroll in. Considering Jubilee’s friendly habit of inviting new guests in without a background check, the place was a logistical nightmare.

  One thing he did know. If he’d been the one contracted to take Dash out, she would have already been dead, along with anyone at Celestial Bodies who got in his way. If he didn’t find the proof he was looking for soon, he had a bad feeling everything was going to explode in his face.

  He couldn’t let that happen.

  Luckily for him, today’s efforts had finally borne some fruit.

  Aimlessly driving through a neighborhood not too far from Jubilee’s and backtracking several times to make sure no one was tailing him, Polo at last pulled the nondescript sedan into the parking lot behind the converted planetarium, unsurprised that the lot was already half-full despite the sun hanging low in the western sky. The music that greeted him once he was inside was also expected. There was always something going on within the hormonally charged atmosphere of the club. But whatever creatively kinky endeavor Jubilee had cooked up didn’t interest him in the least.

  He was coming home to Dash.

  With anticipation building and his cock growing heavy with need, he headed straight for his room. But that anticipation evaporated when one quick sweep of the suite he’d been living in for two months showed him nothing but a whole lot of empty.

  What the hell.

  Tension thrummed through him, hot and urgent. He paused long enough to grab his backup weapon, a Springfield XDs .45, tucked it into the waistband of his jeans at his back and pulled his shirt over it before heading for the door. The beat of the music was still pulsing—part of his brain filed it away as “Buttons” by the Pussycat Dolls—while he prowled out into the main area of the structure Jubilee referred to as the Gathering Room.

  At first glance it looked very much like his own club Heaven, complete with a long bar and ample seating arranged around a squared-off dance floor. But the Gathering Room’s square footage was only about half the size of a normal club, due to the fact that the other half had been walled off to create a veritable rabbit warren of cozy, thoroughly decadent rooms used for the sole purpose of fucking.

  Gleaming long poles were placed at each corner of the dance floor, and at a glance anyone could see what their purpose was. Luxurious conversation pits were set into the floor at each one, so people could enjoy the efforts of fellow guests as they tried their hand at getting their dirty dance groove on. Those poles were some of the most popular attractions at Jubilee’s; they were even the inspiration behind the dance pole he’d had installed at his club. He’d seen firsthand how those things had the magic to break even the thickest ice—a definite plus when he was trying to work a deal.

  There was some action going on at the pole on the far side of the otherwise-empty dance floor, despite the club not being open for business for another couple hours. He took an all-encompassing sweep of the scene, senses on high-alert. Judd, the bartender-slash-bouncer, who’d been at Celestial Bodies since Polo could remember, was idly wiping down glasses while watching the show.

  And no doubt about it, a show was definitely being put on.

  About a dozen or so women of all ages, shapes and walks of life watched a slim young girl in a sexy Catholic school uniform, complete with thigh-high black stockings with bows on the tops, a red Tartan pleated skirt, a white button-down shirt and a big red bow-like tie at her neck. It almost reminded him of the school uniform Dash had been wearing when they’d first met, except that unlike this woman’s, Dash’s skirt hadn’t been so damn short the lower half of her ass flashed the world with every move. And unlike Dash, this woman wore her hair in a sizzling hot pink bob, topped with what looked to be a sporty captain’s cap.

  “All right, let’s put some heat into it.” Jubilee’s voice came out of the red-lit dimness on the far side of the dance area. Cutting his gaze in that direction, he spotted her standing behind the crowded conversation pit, her critical gaze latched onto the pink-haired naughty school girl. “Fuck that pole because it makes you feel good—so good it makes us all feel good. Work it, work it, and then throw in one of the moves we learned today.”

  Aha. This was one of Jubilee’s get-sexy classes, or whatever the hell they were called. He’d forgotten that was today.

  Class or not, that was still no excuse for allowing Dash out of her sight.

  Muttering a curse, he stalked around the edge of the dance floor, out of habit keeping to the shadows. While all eyes were glued to the wisp of a woman now grinding on the pole like she had well-oiled ball bearings for hip joints, he came to stand beside Jubilee.

  “Jubilee—”

  “Come on, go airborne. Reach up high and grab the pole, hook it around the back of your knee, and do the Flyer move all the way to the floor. Spin, girl, spin!”

  Jesus. “Jubilee, where’s Dash?”

  Without taking her eyes off the now-dizzily spinning woman working the pole, Jubilee leaned her ear his way. “What?”

  “Dash.” He paused as the women in the conversation pit went wild as the Flyer move was perfectly exe
cuted, with the woman spinning slowly all the way down to the floor and onto her knees, where she then leaned back and rocked her hips up and down in time with the music. His blood heated, and he quickly looked away before any other kind of physiological response made him feel guilty. One thing was for sure, though—just as soon as she was mobile and feeling better, he was going to talk Dash into taking some damn pole-dancing lessons. “Where is Dash, Jubilee? I trusted you to keep an eye on her, but she’s not in my rooms. Where is she?”

  “Where is Dash?” Finally Jubilee turned to him, only to laugh in his face. “Oh, darlin’, aren’t you the most precious thing.”

  His worried frown turned into a snarling scowl. “Are you fucking serious? This isn’t a laughing matter. Dash is in a hell of a lot of trouble and she can’t be allowed out on her own, do you understand? I trusted you with her, so where is she?”

  “I did my best to raise you right, but sometimes you are just such a man. Can’t be helped, I guess.”

  Goddamn it. “Jubilee—”

  “She’s right here, Polo.”

  “What?”

  “She’s here. Right in front of you.” When he didn’t turn his head, she did it for him, shoving a hand against his cheek until he was forced to look at the sexy school girl, now back up on her feet…

  Or foot.

  The sexy school girl was standing on one foot.

  The other one was off the ground, and despite the black thigh-high stocking he could tell that the elevated foot was heavily wrapped.

  Holy shit.

  Slowly his shocked gaze traveled up the long path of those sexy, thigh high-encased legs to her skirt, a red Tartan flounce that was so small it barely covered her red undies. Then his eyes moved up further, past the primly buttoned-up shirt and red tie at her neck.

  Beneath a thick fall of hot pink bangs, Dash’s huge midnight eyes stared back at him.

  Hot damn.

  Chapter Seven