She knows her suits. I was right; she comes from a lot of money.
Shiny fabric covers her from shoulders to toes, flowing out around her body with the wispiness of fog. Ethereal.
Fuck me, I sound like a douchebag. Chris is right; lyrics and poetry are his thing, not mine.
But this dress is something else. It’s white like the rest of the room, draping from each shoulder, then connecting at the waist, leaving a deep V of pale skin that draws my eyes to her navel.
“How are you, Atlas?” She pats my lapel, then clasps her hands lightly at her waist. “I see you received my invitation.”
“How did you know where I was staying?”
She smirks. “I have my ways.”
“Well, if you wanted to ask me out—”
She raises one slender hand. “Oh no, honey, you’ve misunderstood.” She tilts her head, holding my gaze. “That little tryst of ours was fun.” She looks around the room focusing on nothing and everything all at once, then brings her gaze back to mine. “But I have something else planned for you entirely.” She leans forward, bringing her lips to my ear, and I can’t help but look down at the unobstructed view of her breasts as each side of the loose fabric drapes open. “Someone else.”
Oh? I lean back a bit and she straightens. With a satisfied grin, she pats my chest. “This girl means a lot to me. Don’t let me down, Atlas.” With that, she turns slowly and strolls away from me, and something tells me that’s the last conversation we’ll ever have.
I still don’t even know her name.
I watch after her for a few long seconds, then slowly make my way around the room. I have a feeling she brought me here to schmooze, and with the amount of playmates I’ve already spotted—seven, if you count next month’s centerfold—I’m just the guy for the job.
Which one of these girls is for me? She said someone else entirely, so... Eenie meenie miney moe...
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kayla
The cocktail reception portion of this event is set to last twenty minutes.
Twenty minutes of standing behind these sheer curtains and holding as still as a statue.
Collette could get me to do just about anything she wants. I swear.
I’m not wearing a watch—it wouldn’t go with this landing strip of lace covering my crotch, or the matching bustier—but I feel like I’ve already been behind this curtain for way longer than twenty minutes.
And I don’t think Atlas is coming.
Sure, I high-tailed it out of there, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want more. Disappointment shouldn’t grip my heart the way it does, but after this morning and the night we spent together last night, well...
I sigh and transfer my weight to my other foot. If this lasts much longer, Collette’s going to have one pissed off headliner on her hands and a lot of disappointed guests when I walk my ass out that door and right back into my retirement.
Her guests mingle about the room, and I watch them, making mental notes of who’s here. A lot of faces I recognize, but at least half of the men and women in the room are unfamiliar. There are at least a dozen playmates mixed among them.
None of them know that the entertainers watch them from behind the curtains that line the walls. Draped in sheer white fabric that stretches from floor to ceiling, we wait for the cue. When the lights dim, and the guests take their seats, we’ll emerge. They should be able to see us, but Collette is a goddess when it comes to detail and she’s somehow rigged the lighting in such a way that our silhouettes are completely invisible.
Hiding in plain sight. She’s an evil genius, really.
I scan the crowd again; disappointment tightens its cold fingers around my heart. What if Collette was wrong? What if he doesn’t show? A few heads turn toward the entrance, so I follow their gaze as Collette steps in from the cocktail lounge.
And Atlas walks in behind her.
Excitement bubbles up in my chest. I bite my lip as heat rushes south and all of the memories from last night threaten to drop me to my knees where I stand. Dressed in a crisp, black suit, perfectly tailored to his frame, Atlas is perfection personified. His dark hair and dark eyes, that tortured gaze... he’s every bad decision I could ever make wrapped into one delightful package.
I’d hoped the image of him in my mind wouldn’t live up to the vision of him tonight, that somehow I’d fabricated his beauty since this morning, made him seem even better than he is, but no such luck.
And to make matters worse, I am all too aware of what he can do with those hands. He played my body like an instrument, and I’ll never watch him perform without looking at his fingers in a whole new light.
And that mouth. Don’t get me started on that mouth of his.
Collette steps toward the center of the room, and a spotlight turns on, bringing all eyes toward her. I flick my gaze over to Atlas and frown. He watches her with more than casual attention.
They did more than just sit next to one another on the plane, that much is obvious. My chest tightens, but I ignore the ridiculous pang of jealousy. Collette loves her flings, and if it was anything more than that, she would have told me. And Atlas, well, if the reputation preceding him everywhere he goes is even slightly true, he doesn’t say no.
To anyone.
Ever.
I should know.
Atlas takes a step forward, drawing my gaze back to him.
I give my head a little shake to clear my mind, then focus on Collette as she welcomes the guests. I’m here to entertain, nothing more.
But if any of the other entertainers think they’re getting close to him, they’re going to get another thing entirely. My elbow, for starters.
And maybe a swift kick in the ass.
The lights start to dim and conversations die down to a low murmur.
A spotlight illuminates the center of the room as the staff hurries to set up small tables and chairs in a large circle around the ring of light.
“Please find a seat and the entertainment will find you.” Collette’s voice echoes around the room.
I watch Atlas so I know where to go once the lights go off, and it’s my lucky day; he chooses a spot almost directly in front of me. I get ready to step out from the shadows, then the lights turnoff completely, shrouding the room in pitch black. A few girls squeal in delight or fear, and the murmurs slowly die down to a hush.
I walk toward him, careful not to lose my sense of direction and end up dancing for the wrong guy. My heart thunders in my ears, because this is no ordinary gig. This is no ordinary guest at some ordinary party.
This is Atlas Reynolds.
And I haven’t been able to get him off my mind all damn day.
I stop behind the chair, twenty paces like we practiced, and his cologne confirms I’m in the right place. I inhale as quietly as I can, then lick my lips and get ready to rock his world.
Or, at the very least, enjoy the hell out of this second chance to be close to him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Atlas
A scent hits my nose a split second before a hand slides across my shoulder. I tense, because I can’t see anything, but the fragrance is familiar, soft, a delicate mixture of coconut, vanilla, and...
I sit up straighter, my eyes wide, fighting for vision in a pitch dark room.
She rubs both hands down my chest, then brings her face close to mine, and her breath teases my ear. She slides her hands back up, then holds onto my shoulders as she steps beside me. I clench my hands into fists because they want to reach out for her, this woman I can’t see.
Because it’s her. It has to be her.
She slides her hands from my shoulders, to my thighs, to my knees, then gently spreads my legs apart before guiding her hands back up my body.
I’ve had more lap dances than I can count, but right now I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life. She steps between my knees, and places her hands on my shoulders once more. She leans forward, I think, and the undeniable s
oftness of breasts brushes against my nose. I quickly inhale without thinking, and she pauses.
Fuck. I just sniffed her. Hard.
What if it’s not Kayla?
What if it is?
I’m a douchebag either way, yeah?
I don’t even care. And when she brushes those full tits against my face again, it takes all my might not to sniff her a second time. Not to grab her and press my face in between those tits and motorboat the shit out of them.
Why didn’t she tell me she was working this thing tonight? She had to have known I’d be here, right? Why didn’t she say something?
Was she trying to surprise me?
Or did she even know I was coming? Maybe she thinks she’s dancing for some other asshole.
I focus on breathing slowly, casually, so I don’t make a fool out of myself.
Of course, the way my dick presses against my slacks, if the lights turn on right now, I’ll look like more than a fool.
Is everyone getting their own personal lap dance?
She brings her lips to my ear, then brushes them back and forth over my earlobe and I try not to sigh. “I think you smell good, too, Atlas.”
Fuck, I love how she says my name. And now that she’s spoken, I have no doubt it’s Kayla.
I reach up and run my hand up her thigh. Her skin is soft and cool, and I wish I could see it right now. I wish I could see her right now. I’ve wanted to see nothing but her all day.
She slides her hand to my throat and pulls my earlobe into her mouth and I nearly groan. “Enjoy the show.”
And with that, she’s gone.
I press my dick down and try to close my legs in case the lights flip back on right now, then realize there’s no hiding this fucking boner, so I quickly tuck it up into the waist of my pants and pray no one sees the bulge. I button my sport coat when I stand. That’s the best I can do.
Inhaling deeply through my nose, I strain to see in the pitch darkness of this room.
My dick throbs, begging for release. Begging for Kayla.
Five spotlights turn on in the center of the circle of guests, illuminating five long sheets of thick, shiny white fabric as they drop down from the ceiling.
A group of at least a dozen or more women emerge from the shadows.
They all wear black lace bras and matching lace panties, with bare feet, yet even without six inch heels, their bodies are long and lean.
I recognize the blonde closest to me immediately. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since those perfect stems were wrapped around my head. She’s wearing a wig, and her makeup is ten times thicker than last night, but I’m looking at the hottest chick in all of Las Vegas.
Kincaid Summers.
Kayla.
My Kayla.
The woman who made me break three rules in one night.
I take the final sip of my drink, then look around for a waitress. Everything behind me is still pitch black, so I can’t see the wait staff, but when I raise my empty glass in the air, I hope they see me. Kayla and the other women start to swing around on the long sheets of fabric, and as I watch her body in motion, watch the muscles in her legs tighten and strain as she climbs the fabric, it takes all of my willpower not to jump up and join her out there in the center of the room. They came for a show, and we could give them one hell of a performance.
I’ve never wanted to go back for seconds like I do with Kayla.
And thirds.
And fourths.
And, fuck me, when she starts to climb that fabric like a stripper pole, I focus on the muscles in those long ass legs, and remember the way they looked wrapped around me or sprawled out on my bed. When she bends backwards and meets my gaze for the first time since the lights went on, I know I’m completely fucked.
I’ll break every single rule for this woman, over and over again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kayla
When the aerial show is over, we slowly make our way down the hammock silks and create a circle facing the guests. We bow and the room breaks out in applause.
I look up at Atlas while I’m bowed over, his gaze is just as heavy as it was last night when he made it a point to get me to go home with him, and I feel it on every inch of my skin.
He gets what he wants. Last night that was me.
I smile and he shakes his head, nostrils flaring.
He wants me tonight too, and I’m prepared to never say no to him again.
At least until I head back to California.
How pissed will Collette be if we don’t stay for the whole event?
“Welcome, welcome,” Collette says. Speak of the devil. She steps out into the center of the spotlight, clapping her hands as she motions toward us, prompting the crowd to continue their applause. “My girls, everyone! Aren’t they spectacular?”
The applause intensifies as she looks around at us. She turns back around to face the guests. “I’m Collette Rhone, and I’m so happy you all could join me tonight. Midnight has been a dream of mine for a long time now, and I hope you’ll continue to be a part of bringing this dream to fruition. Each pop-up will be a different theme and in a different, surprise location, but I’m hoping what you experience tonight will keep you coming back for more.” She laughs, then lowers her voice into the microphone. “And if it helps you get your checkbooks out for a good cause, all the better.”
I don’t even know what charity we’re supporting tonight. I’m a shitty friend.
Collette steps over to me and takes my hand, then leads me away from the other performers. “The phenomenal Kincaid Summers, ladies and gentlemen.” She holds my arm up high. “And, you’ve been quite lucky tonight, because this talented woman has just hung up her stilettos.”
Fitting, since I’m currently barefoot.
The applause falters, and a few people boo.
I look at Atlas, whose eyebrows are furrowed.
“I know, I know. Trust me, I begged her not to quit, but Kincaid is a woman with a plan, and who am I to stand in the way of determination?” She drops my hand and motions around the room. “Look around you. Had anyone stood in the way of this woman’s determination, I wouldn’t be standing before you now.” Collette bows. “And what a loss that would be.” She looks over at me and winks. “So enjoy this evening with the fabulous Kincaid Summers, ladies and gentlemen, because she’s headed back to her hometown soon, and the city of sin may never recover.”
I shake my head. So dramatic.
She kisses each of my cheeks in turn, then begins to walk around the circle again, engaging the crowd. I may live in the spotlight, but Collette lives for the spotlight.
When Colette has made her way to the other side of the circle of performers, introducing each girl as she goes, Atlas gets up and walks toward me.
I shake my head and motion for him to sit back down.
He ignores me. Because he’s Atlas. “Why didn’t you tell me you were working here tonight?”
I fight my smile, trying not to look like such a love-struck teenager. “I wanted to surprise you.” I search his gaze for any indication that it was a good surprise, but he gives nothing away. His reaction to me earlier though was enough for me. “Go sit down.”
“You retired?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Now go sit back down.”
“Where are you moving to?”
“Atlas, please.” I look around, but luckily, most of the people are still focused on Collette. “We can talk tonight.”
His eyes light up and he smirks in that sexy, infuriating I-get-what-I-want way of his. “So there’s going to be a tonight?”
I shake my head and roll my eyes, then press my hands against his chest and push him back to his seat. “Daytime always turns into night, Atlas. Where’d you go to school?”
He laughs, but he sits back down in his seat.
When Collette finishes talking about herself, she finally invites all of the guests to head to the dining room.
“Midnight has offici
ally commenced,” she says as the black curtains against the far wall are drawn back. “Please allow my staff to escort you to your tables.”
I stand beside Atlas and he extends his elbow, so I link my arm through his.
A blonde chick sidles up beside him. “You’re Atlas Reynolds, right?”
He looks over at her. “Yep.”
“From Banging Cade?”
He tenses, but nods.
“I’m Brandy Blaze. Miss November.” She flashes a too-white grin. I count at least six veneers.
“It was nice to meet you, Miss November,” Atlas says, returning his attention to me.
I refrain from smirking.
As we reach the entrance to the dining room, I release his arm, and he stops abruptly.
He turns to me, one eyebrow raised. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I smile and nod toward the girl on his other arm. “The guests are dining with Playboy playmates tonight, Mr. Reynolds. I was just hired to dance for you.”
He looks at her and she smiles triumphantly, like she just won some prize.
My lips twitch, but I remain stoic. I’m pretty sure that prize was already won. Last night. Repeatedly.
He searches my gaze, frowning. “Aren’t you hungry?”
I shake my head.
Atlas runs his tongue over his teeth.
She tugs at his arm as one of the servers approaches them. She waves toward the server. “They’re blind, see? That’s how they can see where to go.” She giggles and Atlas looks back at me with wide eyes. “They can’t see, I mean, that’s why they don’t care if the lights are off, you know?”
“Have fun,” I mouth, then give him a wide grin.
His brows furrow, then his gaze drops to my lace thong, as if he’s finally just noticing my lack of clothes, and I swear I hear him whimper.
I turn around so he can get a nice, unobstructed view of my ass as I walk away. He can think of it while he’s sitting next to Bimbo Barbie.
Claiming Atlas (Completely Rocked Book 1) Page 11
