by Bethany-Kris
Yep, definitely need an extra person or two.
Haven wasn’t complaining. This was a sign that her business was doing well … more than great, even, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t like a breather. She would. Five minutes off her feet to recharge would do her wonders, but she couldn’t even afford to take that little bit of time.
“Yo, Haven!”
Max, again.
Haven just turned away from the patron she was serving to tell Max to chill out for a minute while she finished at the other side of the bar, but a familiar voice calling to her from down the way silenced her instantly. And also made her blood heat up, not to mention the way her pussy clenched at the same goddamn time.
“I got it—no worries, bella.”
That voice.
That Italian.
That man.
She found him already behind her bar, reaching for bottles like he knew exactly what he was doing, and not the least bit uncomfortable by all the people, never mind the fact he was wearing a three-thousand dollar suit and serving drinks in a strip club. Just standing there like he was, doing what he was doing, seemed like a giant contradiction. Then again, everything about him kind of felt like that at one point or another.
His grin deepened.
His green gaze darkened.
She smiled at the sight of him. “Andino—you mix drinks?”
He shrugged. “My father taught me. He owned a bunch of clubs, although he sold most of them about a decade ago when he stopped being so involved in the business, and didn’t want his name attached to any that might fail or whatever. Anyway, that’s what I used to do with him on the weekends when he had to work in the club.”
“Ah.”
“You looked like you could use a hand,” he added.
Haven hesitated on pouring the shot of vodka into the shaker. Just how long had he been in the club, and watching her from afar? She didn’t have time to think on it for very long—the chick waiting for her drink was huffing and side-eyeing Haven like she thought the liquor was never going to come.
“Thanks, Andino,” she said.
He gave her a nod. “Don’t mention it, my girl.”
My girl.
Haven didn’t miss that. She was just too fucking busy to respond. It was another two customers, and the lineup of frat boys back for another round of shots, plus a server with ten drink orders before Haven passed Andino by again, and got a chance to speak to him again.
He’d taken off his suit jacket, and tossed it somewhere else. His blood-red vest and tie was a bright contrast against the black silk shirt he had rolled up to the elbows. She was caught for a minute staring at those arms of his—muscular, strong, and defined. Every large vein bulged with his muscles each time he moved.
He was something else.
Too good looking.
A little too arrogant.
Every woman’s wet dream when he tossed on a suit, that smirk, and very little effort elsewhere.
Mix all of that together, and it made for one hell of a dangerous combination in a man. And that was before Haven even got in to his tall, dark, and mysterious appeal. That was a whole different monster when it came to Andino Marcello.
He knew it, too.
Probably.
“Something on your mind?” Andino asked.
Haven’s gaze darted up from where she’d been staring at his arms to find Andino was smirking at her. Asshole. Except … she kind of liked it. Maybe something was wrong with her. Because what kind of normal woman lusted after a man she didn’t know, but who still managed to show time and time again that he was probably bad news, and a bit of a fucking flight risk considering how often he took off?
It had to be her—she was the broken one.
Yeah, that sounded right.
Maybe.
“Well?” he asked.
Haven reached for the bottle of cotton candy flavored liquor behind Andino to make the sweet drink that would have someone’s teeth aching, and asked, “Do you do this often to other women you’re fucking?”
He missed his pour into the shaker of whatever drink he was mixing, but recovered quickly enough. Not that she missed the look he shot her—she didn’t. He didn’t even offer an apology to the man waiting for his drink, but at that point, Haven didn’t care.
She just wanted an answer to her question.
Not a rebuttal.
Not a denial.
Not a deflection.
No, a real and honest answer.
Was she asking for too much?
“I beg your pardon?”
Haven went back to her spot, but talked all the while. “You know, this, Andino. Drop of the radar for two weeks, and come back into their life like you weren’t gone at all. Barely give them any information about you or your life, but make yourself right at home in their business and life. Do you do that with whoever else you’re dating? Besides me, I mean. Or am I just a special case?”
“The truck is in!”
Jackson’s shout from the back hallway reached Haven’s spot at the bar. She found her floor manager waving to her above the heads of the moving people, and raised her own as a signal that she had heard him.
With that, the conversation with Andino was finished. At least, for now. She had other things to do—other business to handle. Andino would have to wait. It wasn’t like she was purposely trying to get out of having this conversation with him. It was quite the opposite, actually. She felt like this conversation between the two of them was a long goddamn time coming, all things considered.
Shooting Andino an apologetic look over her shoulder, Haven said, “Guess that conversation will have to wait, huh?”
Andino’s cocky smirk was gone. “Haven, wait—”
“Have to go help Jackson unload a truck. Thanks for helping with the bar, though. I appreciate it, Andino. And if you do want to finish this conversation I started, then you should stay until I close up.”
There.
She gave him a chance.
He could be a coward and run, or he could stay put and wait for her to finish with work for the night. She still had a few hours left to go before the bar would close, but that didn’t matter. A huge part of her wanted Andino to stay—to let her give him that opportunity to correct her misconceptions and the conclusions she had come to about him because he didn’t offer her anything else.
She wanted him to stay.
“Stay,” she told him again.
Andino only nodded.
Haven left the bar.
• • •
“Yep, no worries, I have the rest handled,” Haven said, waving Jackson out the door. “One last sweep of the floor, and locking up. That’s it.”
“If you’re—”
“I’m sure.”
Usually, Haven wouldn’t be so quick to refuse help when one of her employees offered to stay late, but she really just needed five minutes alone to breathe after a night like tonight. Once Jackson was fully out the door, Haven locked it behind him, and then closed the large, steel door behind it before pulling the deadbolts on that, too. She’d go out the back way later.
Passing by the tables, Haven snatched up a crumbled piece of paper on one of the tables, and shoved it into her back pocket. One last sweep of the floors to make sure the place was all picked up, and she was good to go.
On one of the raised platforms—the one with the middle pole—Haven saw a hair tie on the floor. Likely from one of the dancers. It wasn’t unusual for them to lose something small when they were dancing. Jewelry was most common, but they almost always found it and picked it up before getting off the stage.
Hoisting herself up onto the stage to grab the hair tie, Haven felt his eyes on her the moment she stood up straight again. Of course, she hadn’t forgotten that he was there—watching her all night from afar.
How could she forget?
She felt him when he watched her. His presence was a tangible fucking thing to her—real and vibrant and terrifying. Yet, n
ot in a bad way. It didn’t matter how busy she had gotten with work because she still knew Andino was there somewhere watching her in the background.
Never failed.
“Are you going to do a little dance for me up there?”
Haven leaned a hip against the gleaming, silver pole as she turned to find Andino sitting on the bar. He nursed a lowball glass of something—she couldn’t tell what kind of liquor it was from thirty feet away.
But fuck him.
Because damn he looked good sitting there like that—tie undone, his hair slicked back like he’d been running his fingers through it, and those sleeves rolled up to show off his strong arms. Despite the busy night, and the fact he’d jumped in to help her and the other employees, he didn’t look any fucking worse for wear.
Cool.
Calm.
Collected.
That was Andino.
“Do you want me to dance for you?” she asked.
Andino tipped his head to the side, and grinned sinfully. “Well, there isn’t any music.”
Haven wet her bottom lip, and slid her palm along the cold metal of the pole before she did a quick spin on the stage. She’d put on ballet flats since she was going to be on her damn feet all night, but that just made it easier for her to lift off the ground, do a flip on the pole mid-spin, hook her leg around the metal, and then hang suspended upside down with only her knee and calf keeping her steady.
She peered at Andino, aware of just how close her head was to the floor, and knowing that if she even let go of the hold she had on the pole by a fraction, she would crash. And crash hard.
“I’m sorry,” she said, smiling as she ran her fingers through her loose hanging hair, “you thought I needed music to dance?”
Andino’s husky chuckles as he pushed off the bar and landed soundlessly to his feet made her fucking stomach clench. With every step he took closer to the stage, a blazing heat started to travel over her entire body. Deep in her bones, and raging through her sinew. Thickening her blood, and making her nerves snap.
There was something about this man.
Something …
“Haven,” Andino murmured.
She blinked.
He was standing at the edge of the stage, now. His palms lying flat to the LED lights lining the stage as he leaned over, and his face came to a stop just a few inches from hers. Upside down, and suspended like she was, the only thing she could see was him.
And it was all she wanted to see right then.
“Yes?” she whispered.
“That conversation—would you like to finish it now?”
Haven laughed. “Right now?”
“You could get back on your feet, if you want. I mean … I’m not going to tell you to stop dancing, or whatever. I do like that.”
She grinned. “Of course, you do.”
He just shrugged. “Why deny it?”
Haven winked, and then quickly lifted her upper body, grabbed the pole with two hands, and let go with her leg. She landed gracefully to her feet, and then turned around to face Andino once more. He wanted to have this conversation, so she was ready to talk.
“Are you going to come down?” he asked.
She stared down at him. “No, I think I like it up here right now.”
“Lady’s choice.”
“Talk.”
“Counteroffer,” he posed, pointing a finger at her and twirling it in a circle, “you dance, and I keep talking.”
“Oh, is that how this is going to go—you’ll make sure I’m distracted enough not to hear what you have to say to me?”
“Dance, woman.”
Haven pursed her lips, and started to move toward the edge of the stage to get down. “Hmm.”
“I hadn’t had sex in two months before I fucked you at the club that night.”
Haven hesitated. “Really—two months?”
“I have dry spells.”
He said it so defensively that she had to laugh.
“Is that what you’re calling it?”
Andino sighed. “I get busy. My life is chaotic.”
“I understand that.”
“Do you?”
Haven nodded once. “It’s like … everything starts coming at once. It all piles up, and for a while, you forget that you’re even a real person with needs and wants to take care of, too.”
Andino let out a breath. “Exactly like that, yeah.”
“So, two months before me.”
“Two, yep. And my last relationship? Didn’t exist.”
Haven cocked a brow. “What does that mean?”
“If you consider the girlfriend I had in high school for a total of three whole weeks—before I decided teenage girl drama wasn’t for me—to be a relationship, then that’s your opinion. I don’t, though.”
“That was your last relationship? And I mean, a real relationship, Andino.”
His broad shoulders lifted. “That was it.”
“So, casual sex is—”
“My thing when I feel the need. I don’t have time for more.”
Haven openly frowned. “I don’t want casual sex, Andino.”
“I know you don’t.”
“Then, why—”
“I haven’t been out with anyone. I don’t have girls on the side. I’m not fucking somebody else when I’m not around for you to see me. I’m sorry that I have to come and go because my life is a mess, and I’m trying to get it figured out. But here I am. I’m here—right now, Haven. Here with you because I want to be, and because I like you. You don’t want causal sex, then fine, we won’t do casual.”
“I’m not asking for the whole titles and that bit, either.”
Andino laughed. “I get it—you don’t want me sticking my dick into somebody else while I’m fucking you. It’s fine, girl. I get it.”
He was crass.
Brash.
Kind of fucking terrible.
She liked it, though.
“What about the rest?” she asked quietly.
“What else is there?”
“Everything. You, mostly. There’s a lot I don’t know about you, and I feel like you’re keeping things from me.”
Andino cocked his head to the side, and let out another one of those hard breaths. “Can’t this be enough for right now—what we’re doing together? Let it be enough, okay.”
“But—”
“Please, let it be enough.”
A part of her wanted to keep pushing. At least, until she got what she wanted, and he gave her something more than nothing in this regard. But he had given her more in a way. He’d given the honest conversation she asked for, and answered some of her questions. It was better than absolutely nothing.
The part of her that didn’t want to say a thing, and just keep enjoying this man while she had him decided to keep quiet.
And she didn’t mind.
“Now,” Andino murmured, his tone dipping lower and his lips spreading with that sexy, signature smile of his, “dance for me, Haven.”
“You’re still on that, huh?”
Andino pushed away from the stage, and grabbed one of the chairs resting against a table. He swung it around, and set it in front of the stage before he dropped his body into the seat. Folding his arms over his broad chest, he stared at her.
And waited.
“Dance,” he said.
She only had one question.
“With clothes on, or—”
“Definitely clothes off. Or you can strip while you dance. I’m not fucking picky.”
Jesus Christ.
His voice was enough to make her wet.
“You got it,” Haven said, turning to move for the pole again.
She was quick to kick off those ballet flats, and then shrug off the tight, dark-wash skinny jeans, too. There was nothing sexy about trying to strip jeans off—it didn’t matter how good a girl could move. She was just bending over to throw the pants aside when Andino made a dark noise under his breath.
Sexy.
Thick.
Harsh.
“Christ, you’ve got a beautiful ass.”
Haven grabbed the pole, and tossed him a simpering smile over her shoulder. “I know.”
The crop top Haven wore fluttered around her chest as she did a slow spin around the pole using her hands to keep her steady while her feet lifted from the floor. In nothing but a thong—and a small lace bralette under the crop top—her body was mostly on display as she did a dance that was familiar, and fun for her. A few tricks on the pole, her ass high in the air, and her hips rocking to a soundless beat when her feet were back on the floor.
She did have to remind herself to strip the remaining clothing items from her body when she had a chance to do so, and while she wasn’t doing a trick on the pole just because she was so used to remaining in one of her leather get ups when she danced.
It was only when Haven was naked in nothing but her skin, and on all fours down to the floor with her back curved inward, and her ass arched high that she felt him touch her. She hadn’t even realized Andino had moved from his chair—he’d never said a word.
That warm palm of his cupped the curve of her ass, and slid lower to the back of her thigh. She sighed when his hand grabbed tight to her leg, and then his other one grasped tightly to the other side, too. She barely had time to catch herself when he pulled her back.
“No more,” she heard him say in a husky grunt that whispered along her exposed skin. “My turn, now.”
She felt his breath first—washing across her backside, and then along her slit.
“This pussy,” Andino groaned, his nose skimming the inside of her thigh. “This fucking pussy of yours drives me crazy, donna. Every fucking day—I’m thinking about it. I want to fucking eat it, and fuck it. All the goddamn time.”
His thumb had slid down her ass, and she felt him press the digit into her wet slit. Slow at first, pushing a bit to stretch her open as it slid inside her cunt. He used that thumb of his to massage along her inner walls in just the right spot to make her shake.
“Oh, my God.”
“So fucking wet,” he muttered. “And hot, too. Christ, is it dancing that gets you wet, or dancing for me, baby?”
