by Brenna Zinn
Had he been in Mad Dog and Cowboy Willie’s situation, Bennett might have joined them in telling Tatum to go screw herself. But he would not have crossed the line Mad Dog had right before leaving the club.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with, you crazy bitch. I’ve already been in the joint once for roughing up a woman,” Mad Dog had shouted. “I ain’t scared to go back for the pleasure of making you pay for what you’re doing.”
More than likely Mad Dog’s ranting had been exactly that, just a rant. Nothing more than venting steam and thumping his chest in front of his coworkers. But the pure hatred Bennett had seen in the stripper’s eye during his angry tirade was enough to give him pause. He knew all too well strong emotions sometimes led to acts that couldn’t be undone.
Yet for all Mad Dog’s theatrics, four dancers still bothered to listen to Tatum’s spiel and none of them had gone off the deep end. He had to admit, she’d earned a little of his respect in her handling of the strippers. She’d made a tough call about having them audition for their positions and had stuck by her guns even though sharing the bad news to the guys couldn’t have been pleasant.
Steele, who could have been a Sylvester Stallone clone and had the rhythm and ungainly moves of a deaf ostrich, glanced nervously at the other dancers. If he was waiting for one of them to be the first to talk, he was out of luck. The skinny white kid sitting next to him, a nineteen-year-old dancer who went by the name of Gangsta G, sank deeper into his chair and tugged on the lid of his cap to further cover his face. The other two dancers stared straight ahead, avoiding any eye contact with anyone in the room.
“Okay then—” Tatum started, but was immediately cut off by Steele.
“Me,” the massive stripper grunted. He rose awkwardly from his too small seat. Once standing, he swayed slightly as though his considerable bulk interfered with his equilibrium. He was so pumped up, the overly tanned muscles of his arms stretched his shirt to the limits. “I want your help. I need this job. I’ll do what it takes to keep it.”
Gangsta G lowered his head but raised a thin arm. “Me too,” he murmured. “I gotta pay for college.”
Tatum eyed the other dancers, but they continued to pretend they couldn’t be seen.
“Great. Give me a call tomorrow and we’ll get something planned.” She looked at her watch. “That’s it for tonight, everyone. Thanks for a great meeting. I’ll see y’all soon.”
The bright smile Tatum had held throughout the meeting dissolved the moment the last employee exited the building. When the front door banged shut, she turned to Bennett, her face an odd mixture of relief, hurt and anger.
“You mind telling me just what the devil you were up to?” she hissed.
Had his lack of attention during the meeting been apparent? Surely nothing in his expression during the gathering could have given away his wandering mind or lurid thoughts.
He met her reproachful glare, unwilling to concede anything. “The last I checked, I was standing here watching you interact with your new staff.” Thinking a compliment might help soften her glare, he added, “You did a fine job. Only two strippers walked out. I thought maybe the entire bunch might.”
“I meant in there.” She thrust a pointed finger to the black door of the manager’s office. “One minute you’re showing me around, the next you’re pressing me into the wall. After a blistering kiss, you walk away and act as though nothing happened. That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Blistering?” he repeated, testing the word for himself. “I pride myself on my kissing skills. I hope a blistering kiss is a good thing.”
Irritation sparked like fireworks in her green eyes. Damn but the woman was beautiful, especially when her ire was provoked.
“Please don’t make me hurt you,” she growled as she collected the bits of paper she’d written notes on while talking with the employees. “I’m too young to go to jail.”
He couldn’t contain a laugh. The thought of Tatum physically threatening anyone bordered on comical. She might be tall for a woman and have a strong bark, but that was probably all she had in her arsenal.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’m serious as a heart attack, Slick. If you came on to me just to rattle me before the meeting, I want to know. I don’t like being toyed with.”
The out-of-the-blue accusation caught him completely by surprise, as did Tatum’s directness.
Kissing her as a tactic to throw her off?
Such a thing would have been brilliant if that was what had happened in the manager’s office. It wasn’t. Kissing her had only been a simple case of lust gone awry.
“What makes you think I would do something so underhanded?” Granted, some of the ideas he’d devised to shut down the club were shady, if not unscrupulous. But he hadn’t acted on any of them yet. Well, other than interviewing her for the manager position. That had horribly backfired. Who knew she might actually be able to handle the job? So far, other than the interview, he’d been completely innocent. He hadn’t had time to put any other plans into play.
“Your father.” Tatum didn’t bat an eye. “He warned me about your wanting to tear down the club to build a high-rise. I’m letting you know in no uncertain terms that I’m going to do everything I can to make Iron Rods successful.” With an unsteady hand, she tidied her papers into a neat stack, then set the pile on the table with a bang. “Now that we have that out in the open, let me ask you again. What were you were up to when you had me in the office?”
She had him on the defensive—a tactical position he had hated from the moment his severely depressed mother had left him at Laughton Academy at the ripe age of eight. After years of defending himself against the bullying classmates, he’d learned how to turn the tables. His offense was one that could seldom be bested.
“If you have to ask, I have to assume you don’t have much experience with men.” He rose from his leaning position against the bar. “Is that true?”
“You arrogant ass. How dare you ask me something like that?”
“So I’m clear,” he said, stepping next to her, then lowering his lips to the shell of her lovely ear. “Are you upset that I kissed you or that I stopped?”
Her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates and her mouth gapped open. “I-I…”she floundered. A stain the color of ripe strawberries rose up her neck and spread across her cheeks.
“I thought so.”
Bennett acted on the impulse he’d suppressed when he’d seen her dancing onstage. That same indefinable impulse that was driving him crazy. Without a second thought, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. He might come to regret this impetuous act, but right now he didn’t want to think about the possible repercussions. He was too busy enjoying himself, something he rarely managed to do.
She let out a shriek, then beat his back with her fists and kicked her legs with surprising force. The woman was incredibly strong.
“Mind toning down the show of indignation? I understand you’re not easy. You made that perfectly clear. And I like the thrill of the chase as much as the next guy, but if you don’t stop wiggling around so much, I might drop you.”
Tatum pounded on his back even harder. “What do you think you’re doing? Where are you taking me?”
Bennett made his way through the club and kicked open the door to the manager’s office, easily splintering the wood into pieces. The powerful release felt so damn good, he grinned.
The simple destructive act to a part of Iron Rods felt like a tiny break from the chains of his miserable past. After years of restraining his behavior for fear of bringing down the wrath of his grandfather or failing to measure up to his father’s standards, he was finally letting go and acting as he pleased.
Freedom. In that moment he was Bennett, just Bennett. Not the grandson of the mighty Montgomery Ashton or the unwanted son of Lyle Truitt.
“Are you insane?” she squealed. “You just destroyed that door.”
“Replace it
with a pink one. It will go better with your decorating scheme.” With all the exuberance of a buccaneer claiming his plunder, he slapped her ass. How could he not? Her tempting apple-shaped bottom was unprotected and so close, he could bite it. Plus, damn it, he wanted to. Wasn’t that enough?
If I’m going to cut loose, I’m going to do it exactly the way I want. Nothing less. Nothing less.
Tatum yelped and her body stiffened. “I’m going to get you for that if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Promises, promises.” When he reached the desk, he shifted her from being draped over his shoulder to being cradled in his arms. Her flaxen locks tumbled like yards of silk ribbon over his biceps.
She was such a pretty thing. Despite seeming tough as nails on the inside, with a firm body that boasted muscles on the outside, she looked soft and delicate in his arms. A piece of hard covered candy that would hopefully melt once he had his mouth on her again.
Before she had an opportunity to protest, he bent over her, seizing her full pink lips with his own. In that instant, Tatum’s frame lost its rigidity, becoming a pliant mass of luscious mounds and supple curves.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, taking as much from him as he took from her. The awareness of her mutual desire heated his blood and unleashed any remnants of restraint. He would take her, here in the office, over and over again until they had had their fill and she implored him to stop.
With a sweep of a hand, Bennett sent the stacks of papers, pens and knickknacks on the desk flying. He needed space, just a little space, to set her down, lay her back and indulge himself in her womanly flesh.
Tatum started and drew back. She searched his face, for what he could only guess, then a sly smile played on her swollen lips.
“Feeling a little impatient?” A mischievous, slightly imperious tone flowed in her husky voice.
“You have no idea.”
Speaking taxed his airless lungs. He labored to breathe and steady his accelerated heartbeat. With each breath he caught the honeyed scent of her skin, making his mouth water. He wanted to touch her, taste her, nibble on every inch of her tanned body, then plunge his cock deep inside her. Now.
He nudged aside the heavy leather chair and set her on top of the cherry wood desk. Eager to savor her, he grabbed hold of the bottom of her T-shirt and slipped it off, then took a moment to appreciate the enticing view. Pink, lacy and altogether feminine, the bra she wore accentuated her small breasts, pushing up the perky swells until they nearly overflowed.
“God, you’re beautiful.” The words spilled out of his mouth unbidden. And she was beautiful in so many ways. She didn’t possess the polished looks of a sophisticated lady and most likely never would. Polished and perfect wasn’t her style. Instead, she had been born with a natural loveliness that didn’t require a face full of makeup, designer dresses or a five-hundred dollar haircut. She was who she was, no more, no less.
His New York sensibilities wanted to reject this recognition, question his motives and logic. But today, right now, his New York sensibilities didn’t rule, he reminded himself. He wasn’t in the Big Apple any longer. He was in Austin and he was a man with a half-dressed blonde staring up expectantly at him, waiting for him to make his next move. Waiting to be seduced. He aimed to please.
The answer to the question plaguing his mind since Saturday night was too close to fixate on her lovely face or her enticing tits though. With awkward fingers, he popped the buttons to her cutoff jeans, then slid the shorts down over her hips and her toned legs.
A little triangle of bubble-gum-pink cotton covered her mound. From the looks of things, she kept herself extremely well-trimmed.
Currents of lust zipped down his stomach, tightening his groin and heightening his desire. His cock reared behind the confines of his slacks, demanding immediate attention. He resisted the urge to ravish her on the spot. Not an easy task. He ached to rip off the pretty underwear barring him from full access to her sweet spot and then fuck her. Hadn’t he waited long enough to release the lust he’d harbored since meeting her?
“I have to shave down there.”
“What?” He barely absorbed her admission through the carnal impulses dominating his thoughts.
“I’m a dancer. It’s what we do.” Embarrassment etched itself in the fine lines of her forehead. Once again her cheeks flushed red.
He shook his head. “You lost me.”
Tatum covered her face with a hand and pressed her knees together, closing the tantalizing apex between her legs.
His breath hitched and his stomach plummeted like the stock market during a panic. Had he already screwed up this opportunity with her? Did she change her mind about wanting to hook up?
Her shoulders slumped. She removed the hand blocking her view and exhaled on a drawn-out sigh.
“I wear a lot of leotards and close-fitting costumes, so I have to keep things down there to a minimum.”
“What?”
She frowned and nodded toward her panties, conveying a silent duh. “You were staring at my underwear like I’m some kind of freak. I’m not. I’m a professional. Almost all professional women dancers have their nether regions shaved. It’s not all gone, but most of it is. Don’t judge.”
Nether regions?
He coughed back a laugh as relief surged through his veins. She wasn’t going to bolt and leave him the most sexually frustrated man in Austin after all.
“Oh, I’ve judged, all right,” Bennett taunted. “And I score you a very respectable nine out of ten.”
“Only a nine? Not a perfect ten?” She placed both hands behind her and reclined, emphasizing her dissatisfaction.
“Always room for improvement. And like I said, I’m keeping it respectable.”
His gaze slid from her dimpled knees up her taut thighs and then lingered on the exquisite pucker protruding beneath the smooth center of her pink underwear. Just below the delectable crease he noted a wet spot spreading across the fabric. His dick jerked at the evidence of her desire. She was ready for him, all damp and hot, and he was more than ready for her.
As much as he’d like to shred her pretty little panties with his teeth and bury his face between her legs to lap at her nub and sample her juices, he placed his need in check. Who knew if he’d ever have another chance at Tatum. After this reckless evening, when they’d both come to their senses, sex might be off the table. If they were smart, it would be. No, for now he needed to take his time, relish every second this golden opportunity afforded him.
Spreading her legs wide, Bennett positioned himself in the welcoming gap. Tatum responded by placing her hands slightly behind her bottom and leaning back, giving him full access to the buffet of her glorious body. Her generous gesture would not go unrewarded. Bennett bent over her, but rather than zeroing in her mouth, he aimed lower, finding his target just above her collarbone.
His lips met the warm, sweet-smelling curve of her neck. He nuzzled closer, very much aware of how the five o’clock shadow on his cheeks would abrade her delicate skin. Pleasure and pain. The best ingredients for incredible sex.
When his mouth found her pulse, he stroked at the wildly beating point with the tip of his tongue before applying his teeth for a gentle bite. She moaned and lifted her chin, elongating her graceful neck. A subtle request for more.
Request granted.
With increasing firmness, he nibbled and sucked, taking pleasure in her heated flesh and responsive groans. Following the natural contour to her shoulder, he stopped long enough to slip her thin bra straps onto her arms before continuing down her chest to the swell of her breasts. He lowered his chin into the narrow valley between her tits, then turned his head left and right several times while planting moist kisses on the heaving mounds.
“Are you motorboating down there?”
Tatum’s droll voice broke through his haze of testosterone-driven euphoria. God, how he loved being a man.
He tilted his face, taking in her amused e
xpression. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
“I have to tell you, Slick, I didn’t take you for the kind of guy I’d catch playing patty cake with my breasts. You’re surprising me here.”
Bennett surprised himself. He wasn’t that kind of man.
Behaving this way with his lovers from New York would have been unthinkable. But then again, when would he have the time to do so even if he had the inclination? Many of the respectable women he’d bedded from the upper crust wanted little more than a hurried fuck. Get in, get out and don’t muss the hair or makeup. They had events to attend, people to be seen with and only a moment to spare for a fast and furious lay. Considering he’d only been interested in a quick fuck as well, the arrangement had been more than fine with him.
Now?
Well, being silly was enjoyable.
Having fun during sex and taking his time. What a novel experience.
“Then we’re even,” he replied.
Before she had a chance to ask what he meant, he used his bristly cheeks to push aside the tops of her bra, exposing more of her ripe breasts, including the rosy circles of her nipples. The twin peaks, hard like small pebbles, pointed toward him as though pleading for attention. Who was he to deny them?
He latched on to the base of one puckered nipple and sucked while swirling the stiffened nub with the end of his tongue. Round and round he teased the pleated flesh, continually adjusting the suction of his mouth to keep his willing subject guessing. When he’d dallied enough at one breast, he shifted to the other, repeating the rough affliction until he’d satisfied himself and was ready to move on to her other waiting pleasures.
Grazing the smooth skin of her flat stomach, he moved lower, stopping to explore her bellybutton. She squealed when the tip of his tongue delved into the delicious cave.
As he made his slow descent, he sensed the tightening of Tatum’s torso and legs. Rather than becoming relaxed and pliant, she stiffened, ringing warning bells in his head. The second his tongue slid beneath the top of her panties, she shot up from her reclining position and grabbed both sides of his head.
