by Monica James
This meeting with Scrooge can’t come soon enough.
Cracking my neck from side to side, I focus on Lotus’s books and not on Tiger, who will be coming in soon. No surprise, Lotus jumped at the chance to have Tiger back. At this rate, she’ll be back on top in a few short months.
Her books are looking good, which will make Stevie happy. There is something I have been debating, and as sick as it makes me, I’ve decided to allow Stevie to use The Pink Oyster to entrap him. I need proof he’s doing something illegal, like money laundering. It won’t be for long, as I plan on telling Franca everything the moment Jaws is dead.
The new cell I was forced to get rings, and when I see the caller is unknown, I prepare for anything. I don’t bother saying hello when I take the call.
“You delivered, amigo. And I am a man of my word.” José keeps it short, sweet, and ambiguous. “Look out for peaches. You’ll know what it means.” And the line goes dead.
Sighing, I toss the cell onto the desk and run a hand through my hair. This is about the gala, and the only insight I have is fucking peaches. Lotus enters, stopping in the doorway when she reads the pissed-off look on my face.
“Something wrong with the books?” she asks, worried.
“No, they’re looking good. This place is already picking up.”
Her chest deflates as she exhales. “Oh, thank god. You had me worried. With Lily back, it’ll only get better.”
She closes the door and walks over to the filing cabinet. She opens the top drawer and reveals a bottle of vodka and two glasses. “Yes, I have a secret stash, but this is a celebratory drink for once.”
She pours me a glass and offers it to me. I accept, wondering what we’re celebrating. When I find out what it is, I contemplate reaching for the bottle. “Remember the customer I was telling you about? The one who wanted to use the club?”
How can I forget?
I nod, sipping my drink as I lean back in my chair.
“Well, he called me last night and offered to help me out financially.” Lotus then goes on to detail Stevie’s grand plan of “helping” her out. And she’s fallen for it—hook, line, and sinker.
“What do you think?”
I think this is a bad fucking idea, and she needs to open her eyes. No one does anything for free. But she trusts him, and why shouldn’t she? She doesn’t know what a lying asshole he truly is. He’s only shown her the side of him he wants her to see.
Throwing back my drink, I coolly place the glass onto the desk. “I think you should go for it.”
I never thought I’d ever feel guilt again. But this heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach is just that.
Stevie must have called Lotus last night after I lost my fight. I don’t know what he’s playing at because he was tight-lipped when I finally came to. I explained that the injuries got the better of me, and I wasn’t in my best form. I lost him a lot of money, so naturally, he was pissed.
And now he goes and does this.
Has he realized something is amiss?
Whatever the reason, I need to be careful and so does Tiger. If this happens, he will see her working here.
“He said he’d be a silent partner. The place is a clever investment for him. He’s a godsend, Bull.”
I attempt to keep my poker face in check because Lotus has fallen so hard for Stevie’s bullshit, and there is no way she would believe the truth even if I told her. We believe what we want to, and she believes Stevie will be her savior, the one to pull her from this debt.
“That’s great news. When does it all happen?”
She pours us another round and raises her glass in salute. “As soon as next week. I just need to talk to the bank, but he’s eager.”
I’m sure he is.
Finishing my drink, I flip open the book in front of me. “I better finish this then.”
Even though I’m pleased to see Lotus’s smile, I know the truth, and I’m a bastard for not telling her. But all in good time. I won’t let her get into trouble.
As I reach for the calculator, Lotus leaves me to the shitshow. When the door closes, I exhale deeply and slam my fist onto the desk. This is not fucking good. And when the door opens seconds later and in rushes a teary-eyed Tiger, it appears the bad luck seems to follow.
“What happened?” I jump up and round the desk, holding her biceps.
I notice she has something in her hand, and when she extends it to me, I curse. “Motherfucker.” It’s a postcard from Mexico.
Turning it over, I read the childlike handwriting, now understanding Tiger’s pain.
Hi Mom,
I’m having so much fun with Uncle Chris!
Thanks for letting me go on vacation. See you soon.
Love,
Jordy xx
Handing it back to her, I give in to instinct and pull her into my arms. She clings on tight, holding back her tears as she nestles into me. “He’s in Mexico,” she cries. “Fucking Mexico! We’ll never get him back.”
“Don’t think that. We will.” I embrace her tightly, wishing I could do more than just fucking hug her. But until Jaws calls us to make his demands, we’re at his mercy. This postcard is just another power play, ensuring we know who’s in control.
“I’ve never wished harm upon anyone before…but I want him dead,” she utters against my chest. “He deserves to die for everything he’s done. What sort of person does that make me to wish my own brother dead?”
Her trembles have me squeezing her tighter, feeling fucking helpless. “You may be related to him by blood, but he’s not your family. Family doesn’t betray one another that way.”
She stiffens before gently untangling herself from my arms. Just when I’m about to kick myself for saying the wrong thing, she places her hands on my cheeks gently. “You’re right. Look at what you’ve done for your family.”
I open my mouth, stunned, but that turns to pure lust when she stands on her tippy toes and slants her lips over mine. I don’t hesitate and draw her into me, pressing us chest to chest. This kiss is unhurried, but it’s filled with longing.
I like it.
Threading my fingers through her hair, I angle her head to devour her like she deserves. It’s hard to believe I was with her this morning because it feels like years, not mere hours ago, but with Tiger, time has no meaning. I could spend every minute with her, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
She loops her hands behind my nape, moaning into my mouth as I tighten my hold on her hair. I kiss her slowly, treading uncharted waters once again. I’ve experienced so many new…feelings with Tiger, and it’s still so overwhelming.
But being unguarded with her this way, the fears begin to fade.
Even though this feels fucking fantastic, I need to end it before I throw everything off Lotus’s desk and bend Tiger over it.
“Are you going to be okay to dance tonight?” I ask against her warm lips.
She slowly opens her eyes as I stroke the apple of her rosy cheek. “I have to be,” she replies, leaning into my touch. “I won’t disappoint Lotus again. And I need the money. I haven’t spoken to Avery’s lawyer yet, but I still want to buy the studio. Letting it go feels wrong.”
“I understand. I could—” I inhale, before throwing good sense to the wind. “I could give you some money. I’ve made good bank fighting and working—”
She doesn’t let me finish.
Instead, she presses her finger to my lips.
“Thank you. You don’t realize how much that means to me. But I want to try to do it myself if I can.”
Nodding, I admire her independence all the more.
“I better get ready. It’s a race to get into the change room now. So I guess I have to go back to pretending to hate you now?” She traces her finger along my bottom lip, following the movement with her eyes.
“It shouldn’t be too hard. You hated me once before. I can always make you hate me again,” I promise, smirking when I wrap my fingers around her wrist.
&
nbsp; A small whimper leaves her when I tighten my hold. But she fucking owns me when she leans in close and states, “I never hated you. I should have, but I never did.”
And that’s the reason we’re here, about to tear one another apart.
Standing on her tiptoes again, she presses her lips against mine, and I surrender, wanting her more than anything I’ve ever wanted before. She kisses me unhurriedly with confidence and control, and I like it. Cupping her ass, I coax her to use those long legs and wrap them around me.
She does.
Our kisses grow frantic as she tugs at my hair, moaning. If I don’t feel the slickness of her flesh this second, I will fucking lose my shit. Walking her toward the door, I lock it before throwing her up against it. She’s wearing a skirt, allowing me easy access as I thrust my hand inside her underwear.
She is always so ready for me, which has me wanting to beat my chest like a fucking caveman.
“Oh, Bull,” she whimpers, breaking our kiss to gulp in mouthfuls of air.
I sink two fingers into her, stretching her wide, and begin working her body without mercy. She pumps her hips, shuddering when I flick over her clit with my thumb. When her long-sleeved sweater drops off one shoulder, I use it to my advantage and yank it down, exposing her perky tits.
Her nipples are hard, waiting for me to take them into my mouth. And I do. With fingers still working her wildly, I lean forward and tongue over her nipple before sucking. Tiger mewls, turning to hot lava in my hand and mouth.
The need to be all over her, in her, almost robs me of air, but I decide to leave her with a reminder that although we’re playing nice, that doesn’t mean I’ve gone soft. Quite the opposite. Just when I feel her squeeze her muscles, chasing a release, I slide my fingers out of her and let her go.
She whimpers, sagging forward with eyes wide. “Wh-what are you doing?” she pants, licking her lips as the heels of her boots touch the floor.
“Just reminding you why you should hate me,” I counter, stepping back and slipping the fingers that were inside her pussy into my mouth.
She gasps—aroused, annoyed, and so fucking angry—and I can’t help but smile. I love seeing her riled up.
Her taste brings me to my knees—literally—because before she can curse me out, I drop in front of her, lift her skirt, and bite over her clit through her underwear.
She almost keels over, gripping my shoulders to stop her fall. But she continues using me as her anchor when I grip her silk underwear into my fist and tear them in half. Her gasp turns to a moan as I lower my mouth onto her pussy and lick her in one long, smooth motion.
“Oh, god,” she cries, her fingernails digging into my skin.
I use her moans as my fuel and begin eating her out like the hungry, depraved man that I am. I bury myself between her thighs and own that pussy because it’s fucking mine. Tiger props one foot on the small sofa beside her while I swap my position and sit down so my face is aligned with utter perfection.
Angling my head, I begin to lick her while watching her come undone before my eyes. Her lips are parted as she watches me, and when I twirl my tongue deep, she writhes and begins to circle her clit with her fingers. I’m eating her out while she is playing with herself, and if this isn’t the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life, then I don’t know what is.
Her sweater sits off one shoulder, exposing her nakedness, only adding to the building pressure in my balls. I need to fucking come, and I want to do so all over her milky skin. Her taste is beyond potent, and I rub my face from side to side, needing to taste her, smell her, all night.
“Bull, I’m going to c-come.” Her fingers work her clit frantically while I continue fucking her with my mouth and tongue.
“Then come, baby.”
A scorching heat burns my tongue before Tiger is coming violently. I grip her upper thighs to hold her in place as I draw out every last tremor from her. When she’s done thrashing around and pulling out my hair, she slumps forward with a sated cry.
I suckle her pussy one last time before pulling away and rubbing her scent across my lips. She smells fucking delicious.
Standing, I press my lips to hers softly. The aftershocks still rock her body.
“If that was supposed to make me hate you, then I hate you…so fucking much,” she teases, arranging her sweater to cover herself up. Such a damn shame.
Her lips twitch when she sees her shredded underwear discarded on the floor. “Looks like I’ll just have to go without.”
A possessive groan escapes me at the thought of her bare pussy on show tonight, but no one can touch or see but me.
She peers down at my raging hard-on, biting her lip, which doesn’t help one bit. “I want you…so bad,” she whispers, appearing embarrassed by her admission. “I can’t stop wanting you.”
Gripping her wrist, I draw her to me and confess, “I can’t stop either.”
She sighs, understanding how screwed we truly are.
“I’ll see you out there.” She plants a quick peck on my lips before unlocking the door and leaving.
When I’m alone, I exhale long and hard. I don’t have time to deal with my hard-on because Lotus is waiting for me out front. However, with Tiger’s taste still lingering on my tongue, having blue balls is so worth it.
The tip rail is full as assholes throw their life savings at Cherry. She has become quite popular and has settled into Lotus’s star attraction with ease. But she is nothing compared to Tiger. Now that she’s back, Lotus will have two VIPs, and the place will thrive. Which is why Stevie has decided to strike. Well, I like to think that’s part of the reason.
The other, I still haven’t figured out.
Every time I think I get my shit sorted; I’m thrown a fucking curveball.
Cherry flashes me a flirty smile as she collects her tips. She hasn’t hidden her interest in me, but I’ve given her nothing. I only played nice with her when I knew Tiger had snuck in that one time to rile her up, but usually, I barely look at her.
Tonight, she seems to have something to prove, like a dog lifting his leg and marking its territory, and when the lights dim and the hollers of men become deafening, I realize why.
“Are you ready?” teases Ricky, the emcee as he hypes up the already manic crowd. “They say good things come to those who wait, and I know you’ve waited a lonnnng time. But she’s back, and holy shit…she is back with a vengeance.”
I push past the salivating assholes to get into a better position to scope out the room.
“The one, the only, Tigerlily!”
The patrons explode, and when the intro kicks in for “Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry, I know Tiger ain’t playing. She wants her crown back and intends to win it back ruthlessly. She splits the backstage curtains and saunters onto the stage with a confidence I haven’t seen before.
Wearing white hot pants with a matching halter top and gold trim that accents her glowing skin, she doesn’t go straight for the pole. Instead, she places a hand against her brow as if examining the crowd. The catcalls blow the roof off the place, but Tiger wants more and raises her hands, indicating she isn’t satisfied until they’re rabid and foaming at the mouths.
Only when they’re wild and out of their seats does she begin to dance as though she’s possessed. She knows how to work the crowd and uses that to her advantage when she circles the pole before spinning around and around.
She uses her core strength and scales it with ease. When she’s upside down, she does the splits, grinning as the men lose their shit. I try not to look at her because I have a job to do, but goddamn, when she slowly slithers down the pole, I surrender.
She is a goddess, owning every single asshole in this place, but when her eyes land on me, I realize she is interested in owning only one person.
She dismounts and loses herself to the music, combining her love for ballet and dance. She is barefoot, which shows off her technique, not that these shady assholes care. They just want to see her tits and ass.
But not on my watch.
She continues eye-fucking me, licking her bottom lip with a smirk. My cock instantly stirs, wanting to rip out the eyes of every fucker for daring to look at her, but she doesn’t hide who has her attention. She is dancing for me, and I like it.
When the lyric sounds about being crazy but liking the way they fuck, I take that as a personal compliment because she winks my way.
As I bunch my fists, it takes all my dwindling willpower not to toss her over my shoulder and show her how fucking crazy I can be. A fucker is out of his seat, reaching for her, but I don’t give him the chance. I’m there within seconds, shoving him back into his chair.
All I can smell is cherry blossoms, and with Tiger’s taste still on my lips, I peer up at her, yielding. She’s fucking won, and I intend to reward her by fucking her senseless.
She reads my thoughts and smirks before ending her set in the splits. The room is shadowed in darkness before it detonates in bedlam. The lights come back on as Tiger stands and begins collecting her piles of cash.
Men have thrown so much money onto the stage, I’d be surprised if she isn’t able to buy the studio after tonight. As she’s collecting the money, some asshole in a suit whistles at her to get her attention. She isn’t a dog and doesn’t come when called, so she ignores him, quickly raking up the bills.
He doesn’t like being ignored and takes matters into his own hands by leaning across the stage and grabbing her ankle. She turns quickly but doesn’t have a chance to get a word in edgewise because I charge over and grab him by the back of the neck.
“Do not touch,” I warn, squeezing his neck.
He tries to twist out of my grip, but I apply pressure behind his ear, in the pit between his jaw and neck, and press hard. It’s a classic self-defense move and hurts like a bitch. He buckles and tries to grab me. I seize his arm and bend it behind his back.
“Motherfucker, are you deaf? Touch her again, and I will break every bone in your fucking hand.”
He raises his free arm in surrender, squirming when I almost snap his other one in half. I let him go, snarling. He sits back down, red-faced while his friends look the other way, drinking nervously.
