by Fiona Cole
My heart thundered like a stampede of horses, and I sat ramrod straight, unable to relax. Squeezing and relaxing my fists, I tried to get feeling back into my sweaty hands.
I almost bounced off the couch when the door to the left opened, and a couple walked in hand-in-hand. It all started innocuous enough. Light kisses, roaming hands. They stripped down to their underwear, and he took her bra off before they both climbed in bed under the covers.
The first wave of anxiety hit me when he tossed his boxers on the floor. The second was when he sucked on her breast. The third was when I heard their groans and saw the movement of his hips flexing between her thighs.
Tighter and tighter the band around my chest squeezed until I could barely breathe.
Trying to ease the pressure before it became too much, my eyes flicked from one side of the room to the next, looking for and cataloging five red items.
One, the lamp on the nightstand. Two, her bra lying on the floor. Three, a tab sticking out of the binder.
More moans crept through.
Four, a bottle of lube shining on the shelf.
Five…five…
“Your pussy is so tight,” he groaned. “Do you like my fat cock fucking you?”
Snap.
The band snapped, and I crumbled. Everything I’d held together broke free and spun and spun like a hurricane I couldn’t escape. Chaos and memories slammed into me and caged me in my worst nightmare.
The room shrunk, and the need to escape became more important than my need to breathe. I stumbled from the couch, fumbled with the handle of the door, and burst free, almost slamming into John. He caught me, his eyes pinched and confused, his hands on my shoulders only adding fuel to the fire.
I jerked back, hitting the wall before running.
Only to hit another wall.
Although, this wall was holding me in place and saying my name over and over.
Trembling, I tried to push back until the wall shook me and barked my name.
“Hanna. Look at me.”
With my hands against his chest, I slowly looked up into ice-blue eyes.
Daniel.
5
Daniel
“Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?”
Adrenaline flooded my veins, preparing me for battle, ready to take down whoever came into my club to hurt her after I guaranteed her safety.
She dropped her head, her dark hair falling like a curtain around her face, but it was too late. Her eyes shining like emeralds coated in glass, her full lip pulled brutally under her teeth, the silvery tracks of tears sliding down her pale cheeks was ingrained in my memory.
“Hanna.”
Trembling hands swiped at her cheeks, and she stepped back, shaking her head. “Of course, it’s you,” she muttered. “It couldn’t be a stranger I could pretend none of this happened with.”
Her body vibrated, and I reached out to console her but stopped when I remembered her stiffening under my touch. Instead, my hands hovered around her shoulders, offering any support I could.
Obviously, she was embarrassed, but calming down. I had two ways of going about this. One, I could keep pushing, demand what happened, and not move until she did. Or two, I could act calm, a feeling that felt light-years away and let her tell me in her own time.
Nothing about Hanna said she did well when pushed, so option two it was.
“I can pretend it didn’t happen if you want. Turn around and walk away.” God, I hope she didn’t want that. Too scared she’d take that option before hearing me out, I spit an alternative. “Or you can come to my office for a drink and calm down without the crowd.”
Her shoulders rose slowly before falling with a shaky exhale. Seconds ticked by until she finally tipped her head back and tucked her hair behind her ears. She’d stopped crying but was too pale for my liking.
“Okay.”
I stepped aside, extending my arm for her to walk past. I almost rested my hand against her back, but stopped at the last minute, hovering instead.
Her eyes scanned my office when we stepped through the door even though she’d been there before. While I walked to the minibar in the corner, she remained ramrod straight a couple of feet inside the room, looking too scared to come in further.
“What can I get you?”
“Umm…Tequila?”
“Straight?”
She huffed a laugh. “Yeah. I think I need it.”
One hand remained clutched at her side as the other took the drink, our fingers briefly brushing.
“Do you want to sit?” I asked, nodding toward the couch.
“Yeah. Sure. Yeah.”
She perched herself on the edge of the couch, every muscle ready to bolt, and sipped her tequila. Before she could pull the glass away, she apparently decided a sip wasn’t enough and opened her mouth to down half the liquid.
I leaned back into the opposite corner of the couch, stretching my arm along the back, the other resting my drink on my thigh, trying to be relaxed enough for the both of us. “Are you okay?”
Hanna stared down at her glass, swirling the liquid. A humorless laugh slipped from her lips, and I held my breath, hoping it didn’t shift to more tears.
“Did something happen?” I asked when she wouldn’t look up.
In the moments it took for her to answer, I imagined every scenario possible.
Someone broke into her room and assaulted her.
She never made it to the room, and a patron cornered her.
God forbid, an employee did something to her.
All of these should have been beyond the scope of my imagination. Voyeur had protocols to make every aspect of it foolproof. Absolutely no chance of anyone getting hurt. Yet, here she sat, still shaking from whatever had happened.
Finally, she shook her head, loosening the noose around my neck by a fraction.
“No, and that’s what’s so freaking ridiculous.” She tossed her hand up before letting it slap down on her thigh. “I chose missionary—lame, boring missionary—with some talking, and I lose it.”
She choked the last words out and had to swipe under her eyes to catch any tears trying to make a reappearance. The rope threatening to cut off my air supply was gone. Only to be replaced by one around my heart.
This beautiful woman was scared. Not by anything wrong, but by watching basic intimacy and I ached for her loss. I ached to take away some of her pain.
“Sometimes the talking can be intense,” I said casually, trying to help her relax and feel comfortable. I was sure she had hordes of people who fell over themselves to make her feel better when she was hurt, and I decided to not be another.
“It probably wasn’t. I’m just…Ugh,” she grunted in disgust, her fists clenched on her lap. With another shake of her head, she tossed the remaining contents of her glass back.
“It’s okay to have a negative reaction, Hanna. This was only a test.”
“A test I’ll always fail. I’m so tired of it. I’m tired of the fear. Tired of being alone.” Her voice rose with each word. “I want to be intimate, but I can’t even handle it when someone flirts with me. I can’t even handle the word pussy through a glass wall from another room.”
I almost choked on the drink I was taking when the word pussy fell from her lips. I’d talked to Hanna a few times, but I couldn’t remember if she’d even sworn around me. Gathering myself, I took another drink and watched all the steam from her heated rant seep out of her. She crumbled back on the couch, her shoulders slumped in defeat.
“I wish I could say something to make it better, but I won’t waste your time with useless words and platitudes you’ve probably heard before.” Her head rolled along the back of the couch until green eyes met mine. “I couldn’t imagine not touching,” I said with as much sincerity as I had. “What I can offer you is a quiet room, no judgment, and tequila.”
One side of her mouth quirked, and she held up her glass. “I’ll take it.”
With a smile, I took her gla
ss and refilled it with more tequila. Before heading to the couch, I sent a message to Carina, letting her know that Hanna was in my office, and I’d make sure she made it home okay. When I came back, Hanna had moved more to the middle of the small couch so she could tuck her legs up off to the side.
“To quiet rooms,” she said, holding up her glass.
I plopped down next to her and held mine up as well. “To drinks with friends.”
Our glasses tapped and chimed like a bell at midnight.
“How did you come up with Voyeur?” she asked after a moment of silence.
I breathed a laugh. “The way most guys come up with ideas. With a friend and a lot of alcohol.”
“That friend being Kent?”
“Yup. We met in college and hit it off. We were both business majors and probably watching too much porn. One night we were at a party, and a couple of people were making out and moving on quickly to more. I think they liked that everyone was watching. And everyone was watching. I’d never forget sitting on the couch, looking around the room at all the people—boys and girls—frozen, barely even blinking so they didn’t miss a second. Kent leaned over and whispered about how live porn would make a killing. And the rest was history.”
She giggled softly. “Thankfully, Erik was into video games, so we were saved from any risky ideas. Otherwise, family dinners would’ve been pretty awkward.”
“My parents definitely shook their head at the idea but didn’t ask too many questions.”
“Did they support you?”
“As much as parents can. They were proud I was a successful business owner and used my college degree they helped pay for.”
“What about Kent’s?”
“I’m not even sure they know to this day that Kent is the money behind our venture. They are of the ignorance is bliss mindset and don’t ask questions. Besides, he’s more vocal about his hotel empire than Voyeur.”
“Is it like fight club?” she asked with a quirked brow and a smirk.
I couldn’t help but smile. There were two sides to Hanna. Everyone saw the reserved, stiff persona she projected. But the more I was around her, the more I saw her sense of humor and that devious smirk that let me know there was more behind the woman than I’d originally thought.
“No, not like fight club. We talk about it. Just don’t necessarily advertise it. Word of mouth is usually how we get our business.”
“How do you feel about Olivia being out there?”
“Oh, god. I don’t even want to think about it.”
“That bad?”
“She’s like a daughter to me, and it’s in my best interest to not think about it too much. She’s with Kent, who I know is a good man and she is a smart girl. But yes, I’m still hiding out in my office like a little girl too afraid to face the truth.”
A laugh broke free of her lips, light and loud at the same time. It reached across the space and sunk into my chest, moving my muscles of their own volition. Her head tipped forward, and hair fell over her eyes. I couldn’t resist reaching out to brush it back.
She tracked the slow movement until she couldn’t anymore. The dome lighting almost spotlighted her wide eyes, blinking as if she was in as much shock as me that I was touching her.
She didn’t even flinch when I dragged my thumb along her jaw before falling away. I hadn’t meant it as sexual, and I wasn’t even sure if the emotion expanding in the space between us could be defined as sexual. It felt different. Softer. Bigger. Consuming.
“What is it about you that I’m not scared of?” she whispered.
“I don’t know, but I’m glad you’re not.”
An easy smile spread cheek to cheek, and she fell back against the cushions with a sigh.
“Thanks for helping me out.”
“Any time.”
Her eyes slid closed, and I couldn’t look away. She reminded me of someone from my past, someone I hadn’t been able to help. The dark hair and sharp cheekbones were different but all too familiar at the same time.
“You’ll never leave me, right, Daniel?”
“No, Sabrina. I’m always here.”
“Even when I’m hard.”
“Even then. You’re my best friend.”
“You’re my hero—my everything. I love you.”
“I…care about you so much.”
The memory hit me out of left field. It’d been so long since I’d thought of that time of my life. A time I’d wanted to help someone else. Someone I’d failed to help.
But maybe I could help Hanna. Maybe I could even the score in my life.
The idea hit me, and I tossed it around for less than a minute before I opened my mouth.
“I could help you.”
Her head snapped my way, eyes open wide and filled with caution. “What?”
“I could help.” When her eyebrows slid high into her hairline, I questioned how smart this idea was, but figured I didn’t have anything to lose by offering. “I could go into the room with you. It can be a lot on its own, and if you’re comfortable around me, maybe I could be there if it gets too intense. It may help to know you’re not alone. Or I could be invisible—quiet as a mouse—if you’re fine.”
“Nothing about you could be invisible,” she muttered.
“You know what I mean.”
“So, you want to watch live porn with me?” she asked slowly.
I laughed at hearing it put so bluntly. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. But no, I didn’t want to watch Hanna hurt if I didn’t have to. “If it will help you through.”
“Wouldn’t that be awkward or weird?” She looked down at her hand, fidgeting with the edge of her dress. “Wouldn’t it make you…want things?”
“Hanna.” I waited until she looked up so she could read how serious I was. Slowly, her eyes lifted, and I held her stare a moment longer. “I can want all I want, but it doesn’t mean it’s mine to take.” Tears glossed over her eyes, and even the barest hint of what she’d gone through hit me like a freight train, almost knocking the wind out of me. “It doesn’t have to be awkward. I’ll sit there quietly but be there if you need me.”
Her eyes flicked between mine, studying me, and I let her see it all.
“Okay,” she whispered, so softly, I almost didn’t hear it.
Hanna’s trust inflated my chest at the same time as it weighed on me. Her faith that I could help her lifted me while the chance of failure pulled me down.
Hopefully, I could pull through on my promise to help this time.
“So, how do we do this?” she asked.
“First, you go home and get some sleep. Shake the night off, and we start fresh another time.”
She looked down at her empty glass like she was confused as to how all the tequila was gone. “Probably a good idea. Between the stress and the alcohol, I’m ready to crash.”
“Did you drive?”
“No, I rode with Carina.”
“How about I get one of my guys to take you home?”
“It’s okay. I can get an Uber.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, let me walk you out.”
I stood and almost laughed when she held her hands up in front of her. “Help a girl up? I’m a little worried about these heels with a couple of tequilas in me.”
I slid my hands in hers and slowly hoisted her up, gripping her hips when she swayed. “You okay?”
She nodded, her hands on my biceps. “Thanks, Daniel. For everything.”
“Any time.”
She stepped back, and I let my hands drop, but stayed close in case she needed me. My hand hovered behind her back the entire walk to the front, where the driver waited.
“Soooo…should I give you my number?”
Even in the dimness of the night, I saw a flush work its way up her cheeks. “Let me see your phone.”
She unlocked it and passed it over. I quickly entered my contact info and messaged myself.
“I�
��ll call soon, and we can set up a date that works.”
“Okay. Night, Daniel.”
“Goodnight, Hanna.”
6
Hanna
Daniel: How are you doing?
Daniel: Still up for my idea now that the tequila has worn off?
My hands froze across my keyboard, and I smiled down at Daniel’s name appearing on my phone screen. A flutter of nerves, excitement, and embarrassment filled my stomach. I cringed, remembering how much of a shaking mess I’d been when he found me. But then I remembered how he didn’t treat me like a crazy woman running away. He didn’t coddle me and handle me like fragile glass like the other men in my life.
All three of them that I was close to: Erik, Ian, and my dad. They did it out of love, but sometimes I wanted to be treated like I hadn’t survived trauma—like I hadn’t watched my sister die. Maybe if they treated me like that, I would be able to bury it and pretend that it hadn’t happened. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to shove it down when the wave of irritation flooded my system, pulling every muscle too tight.
Taking a deep breath, I hit send on my email before grabbing my phone and leaning back in my office chair.
Me: Are you?
Daniel: Of course.
Me: I wasn’t that tipsy.
Daniel: Not at all. *wink, wink*
My laugh echoed around the empty walls of my office. The only guy I’d joked around with like this was Ian. But what I felt around Daniel was a million miles away from what I’d felt for Ian. I never once thought of Daniel like a brother, like I had Ian for most of my life. Even when I’d confused my feelings for Ian for something more, it hadn’t resembled the weight of what I felt for Daniel.
Not that I fantasized about Daniel or thought of being with him. It was well known among our circle that Daniel didn’t do relationships. Which was fine. He was my…friend.
“What’s that smile all about?” Alexandra asked, stepping into my office.
