by Penny Wylder
I nod. “Smart.”
“Thanks.”
“Those clients I served the first night. Who were they? I didn’t realize a club like this could have clients.”
Cole’s face darkens immediately, and I wonder if I stumbled on something that I shouldn’t have. “They were potential investors.” He sighs, his shoulders falling. “I guess my story wasn’t totally complete. There were four of us. But last year,” his jaw tightens. “Last year we found out our fourth partner had been embezzling from us. Making the books look like we were profitable, and actually taking all of the money.”
A pit forms in my stomach. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing, but I can tell it hurts him more than he’s letting on. “He disappeared with the money. The club does well, and day-to-day we operate in the black, but he left us with some huge debts and holes in our safety net. Bringing in new investors would help, but those men you met, I don’t like them. Neither do the others. We won’t be inviting them to buy in.”
I nod, a little relived. I didn’t like the vibe that came from them either, and I’m not a fan of anyone who grabs women because they feel like they can.
“Anyway,” Cole says, smiling. “You owe me your story now.”
I wince. “Which one?”
“The story of how you came to look for a job in my club.”
“Oh,” I say. “That one. It’s not a fun story.”
He echoes my words. “I still want to know, though.”
The sigh that works its way out of me is all too familiar. It’s what happens whenever I think about my old job. I’ll keep it simple. “I worked in marketing. I had a job as an assistant at a company that I really loved. The person I was working for was one of the best—people all over the country love her work. Unfortunately, being great at your job and being a good boss aren’t the same.”
Cole grimaces like he can see where this is going.
“I tried. I really did. But it seemed like nothing that I did was ever good enough, or perfect enough. She was too controlling. In the end she fired me.” I reach for my glass of wine and take a large sip.
“I’m sorry,” Cole says softly.
I wave a hand. “It’s really fine. I was having panic attacks almost every day from the stress. I haven’t had one since I stopped working for her. Plus,” I wink at him, “I’m very happy in my new job.”
“Good to hear. I also hope that you think that the three of us are good bosses.”
“Don’t worry. You guys are great.” My smile is nothing but genuine.
While we eat, we fall back into that friendly banter that rules our interactions at the club, and I think we’re both glad to be on familiar territory. The food is delicious, and the only downside to this dress is that I can’t eat as much as I want to. “I don’t think I could eat another thing.”
“Maybe later?”
“Maybe.”
“Good,” he says. “Because I have dessert at my place.”
I make a face of mock horror. “Going back to your place on the first date? Mr. Andrews, you’re very scandalous.”
“So is that dress.”
I nod, giving him the point and finish the last of my wine. “Okay. I’ll come to your place, but no promises about dessert because I’m already bursting.”
He chuckles. “Fair enough.”
Eleven
Cole’s apartment is everything that I imagined it would be.
In a sleek high-rise downtown, it has the minimalist, masculine feel of a bachelor pad along with million dollar views and expensive furnishings. The living room is warm and open, golden wood and deep colors. There’s a fireplace that I bet would be amazing during the cooler winter nights, and a few chairs I can imagine curling up in with a book. I could live in a place like this. I can even imagine Brownie here. “Make yourself at home,” Cole says, shedding his suit jacket.
I kick off my shoes. They’re the highest heels I own and it’s a miracle that I hadn’t already chucked them in the garbage at the restaurant.
“Those are hot as fuck,” Cole says. “And I imagine they hurt like fuck too.”
“You have no idea.”
He tugs me onto the couch and pulls my feet into his lap. “Luckily, I’m very good at this.” Digging his thumb into the ball of my foot, Cole massages the pain away. It feels good and terrible at the same time.
I groan. “You are good at that.”
“Just think, you could be eating pie while I do this.”
“Nope,” I pat my stomach. “Still too full of pasta to even think about eating anything. But I’m glad there’s pie for later. It’ll be a good midnight snack.”
There’s a sparkle in his eye, “Will you still be here at midnight?”
“I don’t know. Will I?”
He smirks. “I guess I’ll have to see.”
The way he’s rubbing my feet suddenly changes. It’s no longer meant to relax. It’s meant to arouse. I smile coyly at him, a thought I had the other day popping back into my head. “Speaking of dessert. There’s something that I want a taste of.”
I crawl across the couch to him, covering his lips with mine. Our tongues dance and I let my body slide down his, fitting myself between his knees. I make quick work of his belt, pulling down his boxers and freeing his cock. It’s already hard, standing straight up. I look up at him, pointedly licking my lips, and I see it click.
“You don’t have to do that,” he says.
“I know. I want to,” I say, pressing my lips to the tip of him. “I want to taste you.”
I don’t let him argue, plunging down onto his cock with one fast stroke. Cole swears under his breath, and I laugh, and then hum. I know my sounds will tease him, especially with his tip so close to my throat. Sucking back up the length of him, I release, dipping my head down lower. I make sure he’s watching when I use my tongue on his balls. I love the way his eyes go wide when I take them completely into my mouth, sucking them away from his body.
I love the way his skin feels under my tongue as I lick my way back to the tip, tasting the salt already gathering there. Sealing my lips over him, I use everything I’ve got. I swirl my tongue around the head, drawing shapes on him and stroking the sensitive underside. Cole’s hand finds its way into my hair, and I know that’s a good sign. His breathing is shallow and quick, eyes closed and jaw clenched. So I finish him.
Taking him deep, I dive down onto his cock again and again, letting the tip brush my throat. I swallow while my nose is pressed down on his stomach, squeezing him. And when it becomes too much for him to take, I let him drive the rhythm, both his hands tangled in my hair, forcing me down deep. His hips jerk up to meet my face, but I don’t let go. He’s close, I can tell.
Driving myself all the way down, I swallow again, and I feel him go rigid underneath me. I pull back just in time to catch his cum on my tongue, savoring the rich salty flavor, and swallowing it whole. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to taste him. There’s something about tasting another person—you know exactly who they are.
And to do it here, in his home, it feels like something far more significant. Intimate. We’re not surrounded by people having sex. There’s nothing to hide behind. It’s just us, and it feels like something is blurring between us. We’re no longer two people playing in a specific space. Those lines are fuzzy now. Blended. We’re together.
I suck his cock clean, and grin when I let him go. “Good dessert.”
He lets his head flop back on the couch. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I could think of a few things.”
The minute the words are out of my mouth, he’s off the couch and scooping me up, carrying me down the hall. Cole’s bedroom is an open space with a bed that’s so big it must to be a custom size. He lays me down on it, hands dragging up my legs and catching the hem of my dress. “No games tonight,” he says. “Just us.”
There’s something urgent in his voice, and I feel that same urgency deep
in my gut. We need this—we need to see what it’s like when we’re not pretending. He pulls my dress over my head, and tosses it aside. I reach for his shirt, undoing the buttons while he unclasps my bra. And he lets his pants, still unfastened, fall to the floor. We’re naked together then, and even though we’ve been naked together before, this feels like something entirely new.
He lays me back, kissing my shoulders and chest, hands exploring my skin. I do it to, and I realize that I haven’t taken the time to touch him nearly enough. I want to touch every inch of him. Memorize the shape of him with my hands until I know it blindfolded. I touch the tattoo on his ribs that I first saw when we played in the Desert Room. Flowering vines that curve around his body, twisting like a living thing. It’s beautiful, and I want to ask him about it later.
We stay that way for a while, kissing, touching, learning. This is deeper than just sex. There’s a heavy feeling in my chest, and I try to push it away, but I can’t. It’s there. I don’t think it’s going to go away either.
Cole rolls away from me, reaching for the nightstand, and I know he’s getting a condom. I stop him. “We’re not in the club. I’m clean and I’m on the pill.”
He looks at me, eyes wide. “I’m clean too, but are you sure?”
“Yes,” I say, and I am. More than anything. “Let me feel you.”
He rolls back to me, over me, reaching between us and fitting himself to my entrance. He pushes in, and we moan together. This isn’t fast and frenzied, it’s gentle—deliberate. I can feel every inch of him, friction dragging along my skin, and from the way his breath is going ragged, I know he can feel it too. Cole presses his forehead to mine, and we’re breathing each other’s air as he moves inside me.
Slow, delicious pleasure uncurls in my belly. It swirls out from my core, sizzling in a way I’ve never felt. It’s deeper, goes farther.
Suddenly Cole pulls me up, pulls me into his lap, and I don’t know why, but being joined this way feels ten times closer. He wraps his arms around me, and I love how close he’s pulling me in, love how he’s looking at me like I’m the whole world. Love—
Shit.
I let my head fall onto his shoulder, and Cole pauses, breath on my skin. “Are you all right?”
The words tumble out of me. “I think I’m in love with you.”
I feel his body go stiff, and I prepare myself for the inevitable. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s too soon, we don’t know each other well enough. He’s going to say that it’s nice, but he doesn’t feel that way. Uncharacteristic tears gather in my eyes. I’m not sure what’s going on—I didn’t expect this.
Cole tugs on my hair, bringing my face back far enough that he can see it. His face is so serious, and he’s looking at me in that way where I can see he’s looking for something and I don’t know what. After a few seconds that feel like eternity, he says, “Me too.”
“What?”
The corner of his mouth tugs up into that maddening little smile. “Me too. I’m in love with you, too.”
I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe, that heavy feeling in my chest from earlier filling me up, threatening to burst, like I can’t contain it. A few tears escape my eyes, and he reaches to brush them away, and then I’m laughing. And then I’m not laughing, because Cole moves his hips, reminding me of what position we’re in.
He fucks me with a sudden burst of energy, and I fuck him back. It’s like this admission has opened up something in both of us, making us let go. Streaks of pleasure rush across my skin, and I feel like I’m a firework all lit up. So close to exploding. He kisses me, holding me to him like he’s never going to let go, and right now I hope that he doesn’t. I can’t help the moaning I’m doing behind our kisses, he’s so deep inside of me that he’s hitting entirely new places, entirely new sensations.
Our lips break apart because we both need the breath, gasping for it, but he doesn’t stop.
“Come with me,” Cole says, and I do.
He thrusts up into me, and I fall over a cliff into nothing but pleasure. My body bows backward, comes back to him. It doesn’t stop moving or shaking, unable to handle the amount of pleasure that’s coursing through it. It crackles through my nerves and my vision goes black. Cole comes with me, and I feel the heat of him spreading inside me, triggering another wave of pleasure coursing through me.
We collapse together on the bed, still tangled and joined. I squeeze his cock, and he moves his hips, each of us teasing the other with little aftershocks.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you.” It feels weird and great and amazing to say it back.
Our hands find each other on the bed, fingers tangling, and I smile at him. “Now, I could go for some pie.”
Twelve
I’m still floating on a cloud the next day when I get to work. Everything in the world seems perfect. Brownie is back to her normal self, the weather is gorgeous, and Cole Andrews told me that he loves me. I can’t wait to see what he has planned for us tonight after my shift, and if he doesn’t have anything planned I’ll plan something, because you can be sure we’re fucking.
I walk in the door and one of the security guards is waiting for me. “Andrea Townsend?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re wanted in the office,” he says, turning and going through a door near the club entrance that I’ve never seen used. “Follow me.”
Okay, maybe we’re not fucking tonight, maybe we’re fucking right now. I smile to myself. Why else would Cole call me to the office? I’ll have to tease him about special treatment.
The security guard leads me down a couple hallways and then knocks on a door. I hear Cole’s voice inside telling us to come in, and he pushes the door open. I walk in with a huge smile on my face, ready to say something utterly dirty, and I freeze. Cole isn’t alone. Rosie is also in the office. She’s got her arms crossed and she’s glaring at me. And Cole…
I’ve never seen that look on his face before. It’s halfway between agony and anger. It’s cold.
“What’s going on?”
I see his jaw tighten, and he doesn’t look at me when he speaks. He’s looking away, towards the wall. Why won’t he look at me? “There has been an accusation.”
My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “Excuse me?”
His hands are gripping the arms of the chair, like he’s keeping himself in check. “According to Rosie, there was money taken from the safe. The code used to retrieve the money was your personal code. I’ve confirmed it.”
He looks at me then, and it’s like a blow to the stomach, all anger and ice. He can’t be serious.
“Of course I didn’t do that. I would never do that.”
“The records say otherwise.” Rosie says, disgust in her voice. “I warned you your first day that there were personal codes for a reason. This is why.”
I shake my head. I don’t understand what’s happening. “Why would I do that? I like my job, it pays well, I’m happy here.” I look at Cole again, “you know that. Why would I steal money?”
“Maybe the same reason you’re sleeping with him. You just can’t get enough, and you feel like you can get away with anything.”
“That’s none of your business,” I say. “And it has nothing to do with this.”
“So there is a this?” Rose yells, “You’re admitting to it?”
“Of course not,” my voice rises to match hers. “I’m not a thief. I don’t steal.”
“You know, I liked you. Everyone did. You were really starting to feel like part of the Club Deep family. But I don’t even know what to think of a person who would do this.”
“I didn’t do anyth—”
“Yes, you did!”
“ENOUGH.” Coles voice cuts across ours and leaves the office in complete silence. I’ve never seen him yell. I’ve never seen him raise his voice or even be the slightest bit angry. “The code used to empty the safe was yours, Andrea. I need you to leave the club property immediately.”
/> “What?”
“You need to leave.”
No. He can’t be firing me. I can’t get fired from a second job, especially for something that I didn’t do. “Cole, I had nothing to do with this. You have to believe me.”
“I want to. But no one,” he says, meeting my eyes. He looks broken. “No matter who they are, steals from me without paying a price.”
“I didn’t steal from you.”
He looks away, “Goodbye, Andrea.”
There’s a ringing in my ears, and pain in my chest, and I barely realize I’m walking out of the office. What just happened? Everything was so perfect a few minutes ago and now I don’t even know what to do or say or think. After everything, how could he believe that? How he could he believe that I would take money from him?
Footsteps sound behind me and I turn to find Rosie following me. “I need to make sure you leave the club,” she says. “We’ll mail you your final paycheck.”
“This is insane.”
“No it’s not,” she scoffs. “I’ve seen girls like you a hundred times. People who think that they’re better than they are. Who think they can just have everything they want while screwing everyone else. Well, good riddance to you.” She puts her hand on my shoulder, pushing me towards the exit. “And sleeping with the boss? How pathetic can you be? You think he was actually interested? You think you can just show up and claim him while those of us who have been here way longer never even had a chance? Think again. You were just someone to fuck.”
Shit. She’s into Cole. That’s why she’s saying all these things. She thinks that with me gone that she’s going to have him. I don’t have anything to stop her from doing that. “Fuck off, Rosie.”
“I knew something was up when I saw you together. I should have known, and then the money went missing last night. I wasn’t even surprised when it was your code.”
Last night. Last night?
I shove around Rosie, and sprint back to Cole’s office. I shove open the door, and he spins around, his face is a portrait in misery. It’s there only for a second before it’s gone and replaced by anger. “You should have left,” he says. “I didn’t want to have security throw you out.”