by T. L Smith
She rubs her arms as we step outside, looks around at everything except for me. She did a good job tonight, I knew she would. The girls expressed how impressed they were with her, and that they didn’t have to go back to correct any orders. Johnny also said she was the one for the job.
“Are you cold?”
She looks back to me and it’s the first time I notice her eye color. When the blue in the sky is at its lightest, and the sun shines that perfect amount of light through it, that’s the color of her eyes.
“No, I’m good. Honestly, you don’t have to walk me home. I don’t live far.”
“Our girls are escorted to their cars for their protection.”
“I don’t have a car,” she says back to me while she continues to walk. Very few street lamps are on, but I can still make out the curves of her body.
“You should get one. Walking home this late at night is dangerous.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I carry a knife. I was raised by my brother. I learned how to protect myself.”
“Color me impressed.” I openly look her up and down. She catches me then stares forward.
“You can go now. This is me.” She stops out front of an apartment building, one I’ve passed many times before. One I’m very familiar with, to be exact. “Thank you,” she says as she reaches for the handle, pushing her key in and unlocking it.
Once she enters, I start to walk off, not looking back because that could be dangerous. A girl like her could be precarious to a man like me. But like a predator seeking its prey, I’m curious.
“You hired her? The girl who assaulted the customer! You hired her?” Darby’s pacing back and forth as he looks through his glass window to where she’s serving downstairs in the bar, on time and dressed in red.
“I hired her,” I say sitting back, watching him freak over something that doesn’t concern him.
He stops, turns to me and pins me with his stare. “You do realize this is an elite club. You know what would happen to her if she hurt someone or fucked up in here?”
I nod my head. “I do. She would be taken care of, like everyone else who fucks us over.”
“Good, as long as you can live with that.”
Standing so I’m the same height as him, Darby shakes his head. “You do realize the girls are my responsibility, right?” I say. “Each and every one is here because of me.”
“And you think falling in love with one is a smart move?” A manic laugh bubbles up at his words, he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Not once have you watched any of the girls, or any girl the way you’ve been watching her.” My eyes find her at his word. “See what I fucking mean? Fuck her and fire her. Because the other outcome isn’t so pleasant.”
Walking out, I don’t even bother to reply. He may own the vast majority of this place, but what I do he could never replicate. And he knows it. None of them can. It’s why I do it. Going downstairs, I check on the girls. Those not with a client tell me how they are, their hands touching my chest or my hands. Touch is what they crave, no matter how they get it. It’s what they need, to know they’re wanted.
Leaving them, I walk over to the bar, to her. She’s serving Bethany, one of my girls who’s been here since the very beginning. Bethany walks over, kisses my cheek then steps off. She’s dressed much like the other girls in lingerie. It is sex, after all, that I’m selling.
“They all speak very highly of you.” Her voice surprises me. Turning around to where Bethany left, I watch her go to the other woman who currently doesn’t have any clients.
“We treat them well. Very well.”
She nods her head and her hair bobs, it’s curly today. Ringlets hang down past her shoulders and she has on a touch of makeup. Seems that’s all she wears and needs.
“I want to thank you again. You don’t know how important this job is to me.”
“I think I do.” And I do, I checked her financials, she doesn’t have any dollars to her name. Nothing but an empty bank account and shitty lodging.
“Did you do a police and credit search on me?” She laughs.
I don’t. Because I did. Well, Echo did. He is, after all, our security whiz.
“Oh my God, you did.” She looks away and steps off, walking to the other end of the bar. I sit and watch, waiting for her to come back. When she does her cheeks are blushed. “Okay, I guess you had to do that. Sorry.”
“I didn’t have to,” I tell her honestly.
Her eyes go wide. “Do you do a check on every other bartender you hire?”
“No.”
Her breathing picks up before she walks away again, cleaning an empty glass which I’m pretty sure is already clean. Then walks back again. “I know I shouldn’t be asking, considering I’m very thankful for this job. But why? Is it because you thought I would hit your customers?”
“No.”
“You aren’t going to tell me much, are you?”
“No.”
She releases a deep breath just as one of our customers comes up for service. Her eyes go wide when she realizes who it is. She looks to me, but I do nothing as I watch her shocked expression. She better get used to it, all our customers are high-profile, and all earn at least seven figures. They need to, to be able to afford to come here. When he walks off, she treads back to where I am, and I try to not watch the way her hips sway when she does. The excitement in her eyes is evident, as she leans across the counter to me with a smile so big I wonder how I can put it there more often.
“I watch his show every day. He’s one of the highest paid television stars right now.” She looks past me to where he left.
“Follow me.” She exits the bar as I walk to where our best paying customers are situated. They don’t get ultimate exclusivity from our other customers, but they get some perks. She keeps walking but I stop her with my hand. I nod to her, and she takes a deep breath. I don’t bother watching the customers, I’m more interested in her reactions.
“Him…” she points. I turn to see a popular celebrity fucking one of our girls, her hands hog-tied to the bed as he takes her from behind. He’s fucking her in the ass and has a dildo in her. I watch Elicea as her breaths become laboured and heavier. She’s turned on.
“All our customers are celebrities, or wealthy people, some are politicians. Your discretion is a must. You do not use their names, you only address them as sir.” She looks back to me, her eyes somehow darker than last night.
“I would never—” Just then Darby’s hand lays on my shoulder.
“You must be Elicea. Creed said he stole your services.”
She straightens up, turning her back to the client. Her crystal blue eyes find mine, then they skim back to Darby. “He did, and I’m very thankful. I really am enjoying it here.”
Darby taps my shoulder, looks around then back to me. “I’m sure Creed is making you feel very welcome, but if you need anything at all come to me.” He nods his head then walks away. Her eyes track him until he’s gone then she looks to me.
“Are you all good-looking?”
My lip twitches at her words. “You like him?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “He seems nice enough,” she murmurs watching where he disappeared. Darby isn’t nice. But I’m not going to tell her that. Walking back to the bar, I resist the urge to touch her, or ask her if she’d like to be fucked just as the girl was getting fucked.
“I don’t know him, just like him. I don’t know you, either.” Then she walks away again, serving another customer. I step off as she finishes, knowing I should before I pull her over that bar and take her to one of our private rooms.
6
Elicea
Two full nights at Crimson Elite and I’m exhausted, it doesn’t stop. Not even when he sits at the bar and makes me nervous with his stare—his stare and his very few words. Or it could be all the sexual tension we refuse to acknowledge. The girls talk highly of him like he’s some kind of god. I watched him last night, as he comforted a girl who was c
rying. It was interesting to watch the effect he has on them. He only needed to tell her everything would be all right and she believed him, but not once did he touch her. He saw me watching, and his eyes didn’t leave mine, so I looked away first.
“Girl, tell me about it while we get dressed.” Clothes are thrown at me, pulling me from my thoughts. Tracey’s dressed in a tight lilac ensemble. Looking down at my white lace shift, I pull it down, so it skims the top of my thighs.
“I’m tired. No, I’m exhausted,” I say sitting down on my couch where I was before she came in.
“Alcohol will help with that. Trust me.”
“I beg to differ. I think it’ll knock me out faster.”
“Tequila never fails.” She shakes a bottle of tequila in my face, opening it then taking a swig.
“How long do I have to finish getting dressed?” She looks to her fake clock—no watch on her wrist and smiles.
“Ten minutes. Move it.” Standing, she takes the seat I was just in, as I walk into my room. “Tell me, is it a whorehouse?” She laughs, but I freeze at her words. I wouldn’t class it as such, but it’s a high-profile escort club for sure. “El?” she calls out. I’m thankful she can’t see my face right now.
“It’s a bar. Invitation only.”
“So fancy.” If only she knew how fancy it was she’d lose her shit. Stepping out in precisely ten minutes as requested, I spin for her and she wolf-whistles loudly. Passing me the tequila, we walk out the door to the waiting cab. The club we attend is right near where I used to work, some nights when we would close we’d go over for a drink. The bouncer waves us in, knowing us already, and Tracey grips my hand to pull me to the back where the booths are located. The first person I see is Billy, and he offers me a small smile and wave as I get to him.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again. After what happened.” He laughs and watches me, so I shrug my shoulders.
Leaning into Tracey, I whisper in her ear carefully so he can’t hear me, “If this is a setup, I will kill you.” She turns, kisses my cheek, and disappears, leaving Billy and myself standing in the same spot awkwardly.
“We should find you a girl to dance with,” I say looking around the club.
“You aren’t free?”
Ignoring his words, I point to a girl who’s by herself at the table next to us. “She’s lonely, why don’t you go and talk to her?”
He looks to me then shakes his head staying where he is. “I’m fine exactly where I am.” His eyes leave mine after he finishes saying it, then Tracey walks over with drinks in hand. Here, right now is the last place I want to be.
“Tracey said our regulars offered you a job.” Billy brings up his glass to cheers with mine. “I’ve heard stories about what they do. Supposedly, for your first time to go there, you need to be blindfolded and picked up. They need to assess you’ll be an appropriate customer before they let you know where it’s located.”
“Holy shit,” Tracey says.
“It’s the first I’ve heard of that. But then again, I never really see anyone coming in. They all seem to just appear. Maybe there’s a back door.”
Her hand covers mine. “Is that true? What kind of place is it?”
Billy answers before I can, “It’s a sex place, so I heard.”
Tracey’s eyes go even wider as her hand squeezes mine tighter. “You told me it was a bar.”
Pulling my hand back and shaking it from her death grip, I say, “That’s what I do. I work at the bar like I told you.”
“But is it a sex club?”
“No.” That word tastes sour as it leaves my mouth. The lie. She stares right at me, seeing if I’m lying, then looks back to Billy.
“El would tell me if it were a sex club because she’d know I’d want to go. Your source is a liar.” Billy looks to me, and he knows I’m lying so I try my best to not look at him. “El, don’t look up, just don’t look up.” Tracey’s hand grips mine again, and this time her grip isn’t so forceful. It’s gentler. Just a light squeeze. “Mickey’s here.” As the words leave her mouth, my eyes seem to find exactly where he is. They go to his exact position. My heart beats a flutter then it’s gone. I didn’t love Mickey. I had fun with Mickey, until I found out he also likes to have fun with other women too. But as usual, I got over him and moved on with my life. I haven’t seen him since, and that was over two months ago when I cut all contact with him, and not once did he call to find out why.
“Look away,” Tracey commands.
I do as she says because he looks up. “Tell me if he comes this way—so I can escape,” I say to Tracey.
“Too late.”
“Elicea, how are you?”
“She’s good, Mickey. How’s your girlfriend?” Tracey asks before I can look up to him and answer. But his words get the better of me and I know I have to look up just to see if he looks as good as he did when we were together. Glancing up through my lashes, he appears exactly the same, I hate to say it. But it was his looks that attracted me to him in the first place. I didn’t care how he spoke. Still don’t. That was probably my downfall, maybe why we didn’t work because both of us weren’t really in it for the right reasons. Mickey reminds me of Billy, just older, bigger and manlier. Both have light-colored hair, nice bodies. And a great smile. Mickey still looks the same, so of course, I look him over. I can’t help myself.
“I’m good, Mickey.”
He does the same thing, his eyes flicking over me. Then he looks to Billy who’s still next to me before he looks back to me. “I’d like to talk to you, if you want?”
“It’s a club, Mickey. I’m here to dance.”
He raises his eyebrow. “We can dance.” Mickey reaches out for me to place my hand in his, and I do so even when I can feel Tracey’s death glare from the back of me. He tugs me to him and out onto the floor, then pulls me so our bodies are aligned and touching. He brushes my hair from my neck and whispers in my ear, sending shivers all over my body, “You look stunning, Elicea. Why did we stop again?”
I shrug. “Maybe because you like to wander—to other women—regularly,” I say, trying to pull back so we aren’t so close. He doesn’t let me, keeping me close.
“I’ve changed.”
The laughter that bubbles up has him pulling back to look at me before he pulls me back to him. He looks deeply into my eyes, and he’s holding me tight again.
“You haven’t changed, you just want your dessert, too.” I feel his smile at my neck.
“We could be perfect. We were explosive in the bedroom.”
We were. But that isn’t enough to keep me with someone who wants other people as well. Pulling back with more force, his hands drop to his sides as he stares at me.
“That was the past. How about we keep it that way.” Leaning into him, I tap his shoulder before I kiss his cheek. He turns fast so our lips connect, stunning me for a second before I pull away. Before I can turn to walk away, someone is next to me. His hand touches my arm, sending electrical pulses straight through me.
Looking up and into his eyes—the same ones that make me forget what day it is—everything stops.
I pull my hand free. I don’t like it, I don’t like him having that kind of effect on me. I don’t like that I give him that sort of power over me. At all.
“Creed.” His name leaves my lips in a rush. He takes my breath away making me wonder why he’s here. Shaking my head, I walk straight past him back to Tracey who’s watching with her mouth hanging open. Reaching for her hand, I pull her to the door and straight out into the cold night without stopping until we can hail a cab. Getting in, I look back and see Creed is at the front, cell phone to his ear as he watches we drive off. My heart tries to slow down, but it’s impossible.
“Who the fuck was that?”
Closing my eyes, I count to ten, slowly, trying to think straight. “Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t think how you’re going to tell me. Just tell me who he is?”
When I open my eyes, Tracey is watching me, he
r face inches from mine.
“He’s my boss, I guess.”
She sits back, bites her nails as she takes in what I’ve said. “He was the one that offered you the job? He’s always so quiet when he comes in.”
I shrug, I have no idea. That night was the first night I’d met him.
“Yep, gave me his card and boom, job. Just like an angel.” The words taste bad as it leaves my mouth, but Tracey laughs.
“Oh, no, honey, that man is all devil. No angel in heaven is that good-looking. He was sent here to torment and fuck. That I know for sure.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me. Despite how he made me feel, I can’t help but laugh.
“He’s delectable, just like your finest sin,” I say, thinking of those whiskey-colored eyes. Tracey fans herself as we stop out front of her apartment building. She gets out, but I wave her off. “I’m going home, I need to sleep.” She kisses me as she goes.
Not too far away, the man who is sin himself is standing at my door. How did he beat me here? Was he following me? My hand shakes as I pay the driver and attempt to open the car door. Creed stands against the wall of my building, his leg bent and foot touching the wall, and he’s watching me. My heart beats hard. Closing my eyes and counting to ten isn’t possible right now, even if they fight to close. Instead, I open them and the minute they’re open I say, “Creed.” His name leaves my lips as my hand clutches my keys in my hand. “Do you need something?”
He looks to me, not blinking or moving as he assesses me with those eyes. I want to know what he’s thinking. Why late at night he’s standing out front of my building. Stepping forward, his hand lifts and I flinch, not because I think he’s going to hit me because I don’t know what he wants. He stops at my flinch, drops his hand and slowly shakes his head.
“You don’t answer your cell.”
I look at it and see no missed calls. Then I remember the private number that tried ringing me earlier. “You called from a private number?”
He nods his head. Next to him, I watch as he pulls up a black bag, handing it to me. “I will call from that regularly. So expect it.”
