by Erin West
As soon as I reach the Maxima, I pop the hood to see if the engine has cooled off. On my next day off, I need to take it to the mechanic and see if they can fix the leak. Having to make sure there’s water in the vehicle is getting to be a pain in the ass. I slam the hood down and get back into the car.
After all this, I don’t feel like going out tonight, but I need a drink now more than ever. There’s another club not far from here, so my car should be able to make it without overheating. Besides, I’m already dressed for it. Why waste a good outfit by sitting at home?
Club Fetish is packed. It’s the newest club in town, but I’m not sure why it’s all the rave. I’ve heard it was opened by some hot, wealthy guy named Elijah. I’m sure he’s just another spoiled, rich douche.
The only parking available are parallel spots along the road two blocks away. All the people lined up around the block are dressed to kill in designer labels, from Versace to Armani. I get in line behind some giggling, drunk girls. I have to keep myself from rolling my eyes. I’ll never understand people like that.
The line is moving at a snail’s pace. A gorgeous couple walks to the front with their noses in the air. Their energy seems different from everyone else. The man carries himself like royalty, dressed in a gray, pinstripe suit worth more than I make in a year. The woman with long, wavy black hair and porcelain skin is in a yellow designer mini-dress. I bet her female bits would be on display if she bent over.
The bouncer gives them a nod and lets them through, which is followed by groans from several people in line. “Shut up or no one gets in tonight.”
The girls stop giggling and a man behind me mumbles under his breath.
My phone flashes twelve thirty at me. What the hell? I’ve been here for over thirty minutes. I’m not standing out here all fucking night hoping to get in. Breaking away from the group, I strut up to the door like I’m someone important.
The bouncer eyes me up and down.
I give him my best smile while pushing my voluptuous bosom out. That’s right. Eat your heart out.
He crosses his muscular, tattooed arms across his chest and stares at me.
No words are exchanged, but he reaches over and lets me through.
I have no fucking clue how that worked.
Before I get the doors open, the giggling squad follows my lead, trying their boobs with the bouncer. I don’t know what he said, but they head back to the line.
My mouth widens in a big grin as I walk further into the posh, two-story club. The beat of the music thumps under my feet and up my legs through the hardwood floors.
Two bars line the walls on opposite sides of the dance floor. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors cover almost every wall, creating a sensual vibe for the patrons, and chandeliers hang from the ceilings, reflecting diamond shapes over every surface. The dimmed lighting sets a relaxed and seductive mood. Spotlights shine on women dancing in cages placed throughout the building. The dance floor is packed with couples, singles, and groups.
As I walk toward one of the bars, I note all the exits. Over to the right, there’s a set of stairs being guarded by two guards.
A stool opens up at the bar, so I grab it before anyone else can. I don’t have to wait long before a bartender shows up. He’s attractive in a frat boy kind of way, with his messy but styled dark brown hair and a face to match his sexy body. All the men behind the bar are dressed in black leather pants with bare chests, and the women have black leather mini-skirts with matching bustiers. They look hot.
He leans forward. “What can I get you, hun?”
It’s a struggle to keep my lip from snarling up in a grimace. I hate when people call me hun. The guys at work always call us girls hun, darling, or baby. Can men not come up with anything new? “Give me a Smirnoff and cranberry, please.”
“Sure thing.” He picks up a glass, flipping it up in the air. After scooping ice and pouring the vodka and juice into the glass, he slides it over to me and places a lime wedge on the rim. “Do you want to start a tab, or should I close you out now?” He smiles, eyeing my body.
I know all those tricks, but I have to give it to him. He pulls it off well. “I’ll close out now.” I stir the drink with my straw before taking a sip. Damn, he makes a good drink.
“That’ll be six fifty.”
I pull a wad of bills out of my bra and place a ten on the bar. “Keep the change.”
He winks at me, picking up the money. Turning on the stool, I cross my legs and sip my drink. Damn, that dance floor is packed.
The guy beside me is checking me out.
Please, God, don’t let him hit on me.
Movement draws my attention to the VIP balcony section upstairs. The rich always amuse me with their egocentric attitudes, separating themselves from us lowly people who don’t meet their pay grade.
“Hey, Sugar. You’re lookin’ mighty sweet tonight. Care if I have a taste?” The guy leans in closer, breathing on my ear and trying to be seductive, but the stench of alcohol on his breath has the opposite effect.
I roll my eyes. Men these days. “Does that line ever work for you?”
His glassy, dilated eyes gleam in the lighting around the bar. His grin widens. “What can I say? I have a sweet tooth tonight, and you look like my favorite dessert.” He licks his lips.
He’s not unattractive if you like sleaze balls, but I deal with those almost every night of the week. I’d rather not deal with them on my days off. Can’t the man take a hint? The alcohol must be muddling his brain a little too much. If I gave a shit, I’d tell the bartender to cut him off, but I don’t. “Find a new favorite then.”
I finish my drink and place the glass on the black granite bar top before standing from my stool. Once I walk away, I know that someone else will grab my spot, and then they can deal with Mr. Sweet Tooth.
A hand reaches out and grabs my wrist. “Don’t go, Sweets.” His words begin to slur together, but his grasp remains firm.
My gaze swings back to the flirt. “You better remove your fucking hand before I do it for you.” Anger heats my body.
He relinquishes my arm, surprising the hell out of me.
I didn’t know if he would be able to hear the threat in my voice over the loud music. I’m burning up from the inside out, but taking a deep breath and exhaling a couple of times reduces the sensation. This feeling of fire within me has flared up with my anger since I was sixteen, when I had to protect myself.
The asshole has turned back to his friend, ignoring me.
That’s for the best. I make my way to the dance floor to let loose for a bit with all the other people looking for an outlet. Bodies are bumping and grinding to the beat of “I’m the One.”
I push through couples and singles to blend in. My body takes on a mind of its own as I move to the beat with my eyes closed. It seems different in here, a foreign feeling stronger than I’m used to, and it’s giving me a high. My cheeks are flushed, body thrumming with several guys wanting to be near me.
A coolness surrounds me, feeling even colder from the sweat coating my skin. I open my eyes to find a couple of bouncers staring at me from where other club patrons once were. I smile at them, but it quickly drops when they remain serious. What the hell do they want?
The bald-headed one takes a minute to step closer, speaking above the music. “You need to come with us, ma’am.”
My eyebrows raise, and I place my hands on my hips. “Why?”
He crosses his arms. “The boss wants to see you.”
I look over at the other bouncer who hasn’t said a word, and then turn back to baldie. “Did I do something wrong?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
Like hell, I’m going with them. “Then, no. I will not come with you.”
His eyes widen, and he crosses his arms across his broad chest.
All these damn bouncers are big and bulky. They look like a bunch of steroid junkies.
“Sorry, ma’am, but I’m not taking no for an answer. The boss
gets what he wants, and he wants to meet you. Please, don’t make this difficult.”
“Fuck you, man. I’m not going.” I storm in the direction I came from, keeping them in sight.
Baldie reaches up to touch his ear before talking.
I’m already walking toward the exit, so I can’t hear what he says; the loud music that I was enjoying moments ago is now a hindrance.
People move over to let me pass through the bar area.
A hand reaches out and blocks the doorway. Baldie is standing there. “I can’t let you leave, ma’am.”
My hands clench in a fist. “Enough with the fucking ‘ma’am’. I told you I’m not going to see your fucking boss. Now, move your fucking arm before I call the police.”
His shoulders shake, his voice drowned out. He places a hand on my back, moving me away from the door and back into the opulent club.
When we step into the darker part of the club, I twist, reaching for the hand pushing me in the direction of the VIP section. I was already in forward motion to use the bouncer’s body weight to flip him, but instead, I grab empty space and begin to fall forward, face-first to the floor. Ah, shit. How the hell did he move so fast? What kind of shit was that?
Before impact, strong hands grip my waist, hauling me to my feet. Electric shocks resonate from the contact.
A toned body pushes me up against the nearest wall, and the bouncers create a wall to block us from the rest of the club.
Intense, sea-green eyes draw me into his gaze. It’s like he’s looking into my soul.
He turns to the guards, scowling. “She better not be harmed.”
The guards shake their heads. The one on the right holds up a hand. “No, sir. We were careful, but she was struggling.”
He snarls at them before turning his attention back to me. His hands move under my crop top, touching skin.
My body begins to shake, electricity arcing from the skin contact. My breath comes in ragged gasps, senses on overload.
He continues to inspect me, face guarded, before he leans in and inhales the bend where my neck meets my shoulder.
That’s not weird at all. I’ve met my fair share of weirdos in my line of work, but I’ve never had one sniff me.
“Who are you?” His deep, accented voice shocks me out of my trance.
It’s faint and I’m not able to make out where he’s from. Our skin-to-skin contact is short-circuiting my brain, and I’m unable to get my mouth to form words. Too much has already happened tonight, between the weird connection with the black wolf and being attacked by perverts. Now, this electricity from another man’s touch.
His grip tightens on my waist. “I asked a question.” His tone is firm.
Uh oh. Someone doesn’t like to wait. A smile quirks up the side of my mouth.
His eyes follow my lips, a small growl emanating from him.
It’s so low, I’m surprised I can hear it. “You’re impatient.” I cross my arms over my chest, glancing down at his hands. Shit, he is still holding me several inches off the ground without a strain. “You can put me down now.”
His jaw tenses as he lowers me to the floor but doesn’t remove his hands. “I expect an answer.” His teeth clench as his anger escalates the longer I don’t respond.
I’m at a disadvantage, so I don’t need to completely piss him off. “Rose. And you must be the boss.”
A small smirk graces his lips, creating a different kind of electricity to course through my system.
Fuck this shit. I need to get out of here.
He raises an eyebrow. “So, you’ve heard of me?”
Okay, I didn’t want to anger him, but I also did not mean to inflate his ego. “Nope, can’t say that I have.”
“That’s a damn shame. We’ll have to rectify that.” His eyes narrow, and he leans in closer to my face. “Who are you?”
His eyes seem to take on a red tinge, or maybe it’s just the lighting in here playing tricks on me. It feels like he’s trying to penetrate my soul. It’s a struggle to break eye contact, but I force my attention over his shoulder. The meatheads haven’t moved. Shit. What is the best escape route? The only ways to the exits are blocked.
When our gazes lock again, he’s radiating with fury.
Sheesh. This guy may be hot, but he needs to learn a little patience. Being an asshole is not an attractive trait. “I told you who I am. My name is Rose. Remove your hands now.”
If he wants to be an asshole, I’ll fight fire with fire. My mind is screaming to run as far away as possible, but my body is enjoying his touch a little too much.
He turns, keeping one hand around my waist, walking us to the doors. “Let’s go.”
I plant my feet and cross my arms. “Go where? I’m not leaving with you.”
His hand pushes my back, sliding my feet across the floor with his strength. “Yes, we need privacy.”
The bodyguards move in unison ahead of us and then push the door open.
Screams erupt from women and men still standing in line. “Eli,” the crowd chants, all vying for his attention. More guards come out to calm the herd and protect their boss.
Damn. So, this is Eli, the wealthy old man that opened Club Fetish. He doesn’t look old.
A silver Rolls Royce pulls up to the curb, and one of the bouncers opens the back door for us to get in.
Shit. I cannot get in the car with this man. I need a diversion.
The rope for the line breaks and the people rush forward.
Eli’s arm tightens, but there’s a crowd surrounding us, and he’s forced to let me go.
I take off toward my car, running faster than I ever have before.
With shaking hands, I open the door and jump inside then slam it shut.
Just as the locks engage, Eli is standing there.
He looks wild, eyes glowing red and fangs descended. What? Fangs?
I fumble with the keys, trying to get them in the ignition with trembling hands. Oh, damn. I’m going to die if I don’t get out of here. Did some creep slip something into my drink? That’s not possible. I’m not that stupid. I always keep my drink in sight, because I’ve seen too many bad things happen to women who leave their drinks at the table.
He bangs on the window. “Open the door, now.”
I grab the steering wheel as I turn the key and rev the engine.
“Rose.” There’s an urgency in his voice.
I don’t wait any longer to punch the gas pedal and peel away from the curb, keeping my eyes straight and resisting the urge to look back.
What the fuck did I just see? Is that even possible? I need to get home. It was a mistake to go out tonight. Regardless of the fact that I met one of the wealthiest and most attractive men I’ve ever laid eyes on, tonight was a cluster fuck.
I drive home as fast as I think I can without risking getting pulled over. That would be the icing on the cake.
After pulling into the parking lot of my apartment complex, I jump out and hurry back to my place. When I reach the stairs, Eli materializes in front of me. How the hell did he do that? He must be a marathon runner or something.
He glares at me, his fangs still visible. “I asked you to open the fucking door.”
Who the hell has fangs? They must be fake teeth or something. I didn’t know grown men still liked to do that. “Listen, psycho, I don’t have to listen to anyone.” Shit, why does my mouth say things before my brain thinks them through?
Jaw clenching, he lifts his chin in the air. “Don’t act like a child. That’s not very becoming.”
If he thinks I’m acting like a child, wait until he sees this. I flip my hair behind my head and lean toward him, making sure my girls are on full view. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
His eyes dip down to my cleavage and he licks his lips. “Good. I’m glad you’re being reasonable.”
I step closer to him, breathing his spicy cologne, and lean in to his ear. “Did you need something?”
He groans and reaches out, putti
ng his hands on my waist.
Since I expect the electricity of his touch, I’m not distracted this time. I put him in a headlock and kick him in the face. Blood spews everywhere, and I turn and run up the stairs.
When I get to my door, I fling it open and step inside.
Before it can shut, his hand catches it and he scowls at me. “What the hell is your problem?”
He can’t be fucking serious. I think the problem is obvious. “Let me see.” I lift my hand and raise one finger in his face. “One, I’m dancing at a club minding my own business when you got it into your brain that you need to see me. Two, you have fucking fangs. Three, you ran the entire way here and kept up with my car. And last, I just kicked your face in, yet you’re here at my door. I’d say you’re on fucking drugs or someone slipped something in my drink.”
“Impossible.” He crosses his arms. “I’d have killed them immediately. No one messes with what’s mine.”
Oh, hell no. “You wouldn’t have had to, because I would have beat you to it.”
He growls and glares at me. “Invite me in, now.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I throw my hands up. “You are not welcome here.”
“Rose, please invite me in now.”
My nosy next-door neighbor peeks her head out. She’s eighty and lost all her family several years ago. She has a fixed income and, like me, can only afford to live in this shithole.
Wanda has her cordless phone in her hand. “You better go. You see this here? It’s calling the police right now. You leave that sweet girl alone.”
Bless her heart. I hate that she feels inclined to get involved with this, but she’s loving the drama. She’ll be telling all the ladies down at the local community center about it tomorrow.
A howl fills the air, followed by a growl. Both sounds seemed to come from near the building.
Eli sighs and turns back toward me. “This isn’t over. It’s only a matter of time before you’re mine in every way.”
I shut the door in his face and lock it. I’m not sure what happened, but at least I’m safe again.
I change into my pajamas and lay on my bed. What the hell happened tonight? Eli and his bouncers moved faster than me. I wasn’t able to fend them off. That’s not acceptable. I’m going to have to work harder and get in better shape. I must have gotten cocky and slacked in my training.
