by Tina Donahue
He’d said those last words over his shoulder as he left the room.
Connor regarded her with lingering arousal tainted by a whole lot of caution.
Say something, she ordered him and herself.
Neither of them spoke. There was too much baggage between them for any normal conversation.
Connor followed his brother down the hall.
Alone once more, Nikki drew in a ragged breath, feeling their loss immediately, pained by it. Was this how it would be between them from now on? If so, she had no reason to expect better. Both of them should have refused to see her. Mitch shouldn’t have offered her so much. She’d yet to bring up or apologize for the past.
Facing the doorway where they’d exited, Nikki whispered, “I know you don’t believe me, but I am so sorry. I’ve missed both of you so much.”
Chapter Three
With one shoulder propped against the doorjamb of Connor’s office, Mitch waited for his brother. From the right, he heard the rat-a-tat-tat of his secretary’s heels echoing down another hall, heading here. Akira was really getting around today.
“Mitch,” she said, halting in the center of the room as though she’d just noticed him.
On either side of her, black-and-white photos from Connor’s films graced the walls. Stunningly beautiful close-ups of women’s mouths, eyes, breasts, asses, legs and cunts. As artistic as they were erotic.
Akira didn’t seem to notice them at all, certainly not as she had Nikki’s nudity. Mitch had caught her dismissive appraisal when she’d delivered paperwork that hardly needed his immediate attention. A few hours before, her jealousy might have intrigued him, now it annoyed. He wasn’t an adolescent anymore, thrilled that the popular, pretty girls actually noticed or wanted him, an event that hadn’t happened during his crappy high school years. Now that he was well past that period, he didn’t need a hassle from another woman today. Nikki working at Wicked was trouble enough.
“I shouldn’t have barged in during an audition,” Akira said, catching his lousy mood. “I didn’t know Ms. Blaine was here for a job.”
Neither had he. Nikki had given Akira her name, insisting on seeing him. The way a former lover would if he’d gotten her pregnant and she was here to deliver the stunning news and pictures of their new baby.
“It won’t happen again,” Akira promised, taking a tentative step toward him.
Before she got too close or friendly, behavior Mitch had encouraged prior to Nikki’s arrival, he stopped her. “Ms. Blaine will be at your desk in a few minutes. Don’t make her wait. She needs the required paperwork. Make certain she has everything she should.” Treat her with respect.
Akira’s previous familiarity dissolved, replaced by her impeccable professionalism, but there was hurt in her dark eyes.
Mitch wanted to ease it but didn’t have the strength. Seeing Nikki again, fighting his feelings for her and losing had pretty much drained all of his energy. A bottle of Johnnie Walker called to him. After he got drunk, he’d sleep and probably dream of Nikki with her arms folded over her head, her body naked and humbled, yet still taunting, just as she’d be tonight with Wicked’s patrons.
Those men would be close enough to smell her skin and hair, prudent enough not to touch her breasts, ass or cleft unless she left with one of them after her shift. Then all bets would be off. She’d strip for the jerk as she had for him and Connor, her nipples peaking under his intent gaze. She’d stroke the long tips to entice him to lick her. Once his tongue had used that part of her well, she’d fall to her knees, coaxing his cock into her mouth, or she’d position herself on all fours, inviting him to take her from behind. He’d plow into her with a right she’d given him, his shaft filling and stretching her sheath, his balls smacking her ass with each of his impassioned thrusts. Together they’d climax, fall asleep and wake to do it again and again just as she had with the men at Ty’s parties because she’d been lonely.
Mitch had seen that endless yearning in her eyes, the need for someone to want and comfort her, to —
“Yes, of course,” Akira murmured, breaking into his troubled thoughts. She placed a manila envelope on Connor’s credenza that he could’ve damn well gotten himself, then passed him at the doorway, not even glancing his way.
Mitch couldn’t frown at his brother enough. “Would it have killed you to be a little nicer?”
Connor sank into his black leather chair, a modern design like his sleek glass-and-stainless-steel desk. Artsy rather than traditional. To Mitch it looked like something out of the Starship Enterprise.
“She didn’t give me a chance,” Connor said, spinning a pen on the furniture’s glass top. “You saw her. She walked past me without a word. I didn’t even know she was in here with you.”
Mitch muttered, “I’m not talking about Akira.”
Connor spun his pen a little too quickly, sending it flying across the desk to clatter on the black-and-white granite floor. He folded his hands on his flat belly and leaned back in his chair. “I thought I behaved remarkably well, considering.”
“That you’re a prick? Yeah, I agree. Good job.”
He stopped rocking and leaned up. “What did you think I’d do? Offer Nikki a hug? Have you forgotten what she did?”
“Give it a rest. We were kids. Stupid kids. Shit happens.”
“Even to Nikki.” He sagged back into the leather. It squished softly with his weight. “The difference is that you and I didn’t cause what happened to her or make it worse like she did with us.”
Mitch muttered an oath, not wanting to revisit those days. They still hurt too badly, the boy he used to be threatening to return with all that angst and uncertainty. “She’s a fucking attorney. She shouldn’t be working at the club.”
“Don’t worry. She won’t be.”
Not liking the sound of that, Mitch pushed away from the jamb, heading for Connor’s desk. What did his twin have in mind? Having her show up at the club tonight only to fire her before she got started?
Uh-uh. Even though Nikki’s actions had shaken Connor’s confidence more than his, Mitch wouldn’t let his brother hurt her. He sensed she regretted her actions but hadn’t been able to help herself or didn’t know how to make things right. In those moments at school when Nikki hadn’t realized he was watching, he’d seen her unhappiness, as deep as his own.
They’d all been so damn young, so insecure. She hadn’t wanted to be bullied either, which caused her to do what she had. If he and Connor had been in a similar position, they might have behaved the same. Hell, none of them had been heroes, just screwed-up adolescents. Leaning against Connor’s desk, he asked, “Meaning?”
“Do you really believe she’s going to show tonight?”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“You gave her more cash than she’d earn in six months at the club and far more than she claimed to need. I saw how thick that wad of bills was. She doesn’t even have to wait for a check to clear. Face it, Mitch. Nikki got what she came for. And now we’re out a lot of funds.”
Mitch couldn’t believe it. His brother was worried about money? How in the hell did that possibly matter when the prospect of Nikki leaving again, them not being able to see, speak with, touch or smell her should have tormented Connor as much as it did him? Not to mention how it pissed Mitch off that he was falling for her all over again. And so fucking easily. “I don’t believe that. Neither do you.”
The corners of Connor’s mouth went down, making him appear more stricken than the badass SOB he was striving to be. Turning away, he faced the window behind his desk. Stately brick buildings, ancient maples and massive buckeye trees gave this part of the city a small town ambiance, uncomplicated, welcoming, hiding all the tensions underneath. At least to the unobservant.
Connor’s resistance didn’t fool Mitch. Beneath his brother’s callousness was longing as great as his.
“You want her to come back as much as I do,” Mitch said. “I saw how you looked at Nikki while she was strippin
g.”
Connor gripped the arms of his chair, pushing back into it. “I had to look at her. I’m the artistic director. It’s. My. Job.”
Mitch laughed. “Yeah, right. Poor guy.”
“She’s not coming back.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Connor said, facing Mitch. He spoke with resignation, the same as when Nikki had abandoned them before. “No matter what you want—”
“What we both want.”
Connor gave him a cynical smile. “She won’t be back tonight. Count on it.”
Just outside the bank, Nikki worked her way through the afternoon crowd, stopping beneath the awning of a flower shop. The welcomed shade did little to relieve the soupy heat, but it was better than baking beneath the sun and risking more freckles.
A bell tinkled as a young man left the shop, clutching a bouquet of pink carnations and baby’s breath. The white satin ribbon wrapped around the flowers held a card proclaiming It’s a girl!
For reasons Nikki didn’t want to explore, she felt a surge of tears coming on. If this guy was the baby’s father, she hoped he and the child’s mother were crazy about their daughter, keeping her from harm while allowing her to soar. At the very least, she hoped they’d always be proud of her.
What am I going to say?
She clutched her cell phone but didn’t connect the call to her parents to let them know she’d made the overdue mortgage payments and then some, giving them breathing room until the middle of next year. Great news, until they asked where she’d got the money.
Chewing the side of her thumb, Nikki considered a number of explanations. She could tell them former friends owed her a staggering amount of cash. Or she could say she won the lottery, just when she and her folks needed it the most.
They’d never believe it. They’d ask too many questions, their behavior growing increasingly suspicious and disappointed. She’d be reduced to that teen she recalled too well, caught doing something she shouldn’t. Like kissing Mitch and Connor in the garage while her parents were at work. Letting both brothers feel her up. Stripping in Mitch’s office just now. Loving how he and Connor continued to focus on her even when Ms. Bitch arrived with those papers. The hunger in their eyes. Their masculine scents. The primitive vibes they gave off, telling her that once she was within their arms, there wouldn’t be any stopping them. They’d take and she’d give.
Nikki slumped against the store’s brick façade, not caring if it ruined her silk blouse. Around her, people laughed and talked, horns honked, the stench of exhaust mingled with the odors of too much humanity and all she could think of was the enticing fragrance of leather and something woodsy, the clean scent of lime and heady male musk. She pictured Mitch imprisoning her wrists in one hand, keeping them above her head in full view of everyone on this street, trapping her for his brother. Her mind saw Connor tearing open her blouse, shoving the silk back so he could get at her breasts.
As a team they worked her bra’s front clasp, nudging the cups aside until she was naked from the waist up, the muggy breeze caressing her areolas, intensifying her partial nudity. In her fantasy, a crowd started to gather, mainly young guys at first, then those in their thirties who were equally curious as to what the brothers would do.
As the oldest, Mitch made the first move, licking her right nipple. Connor claimed her left. Their tongues swirled around the firm peaks, Mitch’s hand held hers tightly, giving her no chance to resist. She belonged to them. They could do with her as they willed.
Her belly trembled as Connor’s fingers splayed on it, heading for her cunt. Mitch didn’t allow his brother to take that carnal journey alone. Together, they tugged on her capris and thong, forcing her clothing to the tops of her thighs, baring her smooth slit to their touch. Mitch drove two fingers inside her damp, tight opening. Connor stroked her clit. The men watching erupted in applause.
Nikki held back an indecent moan, both in her daydream and out here on the street. Good thing. The elderly women approaching the shop were already eyeing her suspiciously as though they’d guessed what she’d be doing tonight. Or they recognized her from the media feeds, her very public arrest in Manhattan.
Unsettled and with no clue as to what she might say to her parents, Nikki finally made the call. “Hey, it’s me,” she said to her mother’s ‘hello’. “I have good news.”
The woman inhaled sharply. “Oh, Nikki. You’ve spoken to Ty?”
And that would be good how? Her shoulders sagged. No matter what Ty had done, how cruelly he’d used people, his wealth and pedigree were what mattered to Nikki’s parents. Not the kind of man he was. He didn’t have a bit of the talent, smarts and honor that Mitch and Connor had, still, to her folks he was perfect. A member of the one percent in this country. What the other ninety-nine percent should aspire to.
Taking one of the florist’s promotional brochures from its stand, Nikki used it to fan herself. “No, Mom, this isn’t about Ty. It’s about you and Dad.” She forced herself to sound happy. “I’ve made the back payments on your house and enough to carry you until next June. I’ll take care of the payments going forward so you and Dad—”
“Ty gave you the money?”
Jesus. “No, Mom. He’s in prison. He doesn’t have any money.”
“That will all be settled soon, I know. I can feel it.”
Uh-huh. “Anyway, you and Dad can relax. No one’s going to take your house.”
“How did you manage this, Nikki? You’re not doing anything wrong, are you?”
She recalled Connor taking her blouse, Mitch her bra, her capris and thong dropping to her feet, her buck naked while they remained clothed. It had been a long while since she’d done anything that felt so deliciously right. “No, of course not. I—ah—there’s this settlement I forgot about from my old job. It just came in. There’s enough for me to take care of myself, you and Dad. Everything’s going to be okay from now on.”
Her mother didn’t comment. On the other end of the line, Nikki heard metal clanging, a cabinet’s hinges squeaking, the sounds of dinner preparations.
“You really should talk to Ty,” her mother said at last. “His mom and I spoke earlier this week. His attorneys are gearing up for his next court appearance. You should testify. You know he didn’t mean to do what he’s been accused of. He was under a lot of pressure with this awful economy. Your dad and I understand. You have to make Ty’s other clients know what really happened, not what those prosecutors keep saying.”
Crushing weariness overcame Nikki. She loved her folks, but had realized a long time ago that they’d never admit the truth. They couldn’t seem to face the fact that the person they trusted more than their daughter, the man they liked better than their own flesh and blood had conned them so easily and continued to do so. “I have to go, Mom. Please tell Dad not to worry about the house anymore, I’m handling it.”
“We could talk at dinner…if you want, you could stay the night.”
When all of this crap started, that invitation would have meant the world to Nikki. Never happened. Her parents had urged her to stay with Ty, to support him as a dutiful wife should. If he had loved her at all, even for a minute, Nikki would have. She’d been that lonely and wanting.
“Sorry, I can’t tonight,” she mumbled. “Lots to do at my apartment. I’m still unpacking my stuff. I’ll call you next week.”
Not waiting for her mother’s response, Nikki ended the call and checked the time on the bank’s display. Only a couple of hours until her first night at Wicked.
At a few minutes to six, she pulled into the club’s deserted parking lot, her used Ford Focus chugging listlessly, unlike the fully loaded Benzes and Beemers she used to drive. Her current wheels didn’t even have a working radio and Nikki couldn’t have cared less. Grateful for this chance, she regarded the two-story white building that looked like something out of a Southern gothic novel or a virgin’s wet dream, more impressive in person than what she’d seen on the clu
b’s website.
Six towering columns supported the roof over the semi-circular front porch. On the ground floor, scores of windows stretched the full height of each room, allowing in the greatest amount of light and observation. A voyeur’s dream. Shadows angled across the impressive grounds, meticulously landscaped with fat bushes, majestic trees and countless flowers in a kaleidoscope of colors. Beads of moisture clung to the velvety petals, the mixture of their perfume and the fragrance of newly mown grass enough to make Queen Elizabeth crack a smile.
Following the discreet signs to the employees’ area and the lone Lexus parked there, Nikki swallowed hard, her belly churning. Not at the thought of working topless, bottomless or both. At the prospect of seeing Mitch and Connor once more, them dismissing her efforts to apologize, Connor in particular refusing to allow their relationship to begin anew.
Sighing deeply, Nikki paused just inside the club’s shadowed back hall. Sterile air conditioning mingled with female cologne and lemony furniture polish. In the distance, music played…Lady Gaga’s Edge of Glory. From the sound of it, Ms. Gaga was at the edge right now.
Tell me about it.
A couple of years ago, Nikki wouldn’t have imagined working in any gentlemen’s club, not that this place was bad. The walls in this part of the establishment were a deep wine color, the wood floor gleaming from what looked to be candlelight ahead. Subtle and romantic, while also a wee bit dangerous. To get the staffers in a receptive mood for the night’s events?
Nikki stopped at the first two doors, opposite each other. The room on the right had to be a dressing, or undressing, area for the guys. The small mirrors, leather jock straps and industrial strength deodorants were a dead giveaway. To the left was a space three times the size with wall-to-wall mirrors, state-of-the-art makeup tables, enough cosmetics to stock several department stores and then there were the costumes. Leather masks and boots, feathers in white, green and gold, ominous chains, glitter dust. Damn.
