by Ella Miles
She doesn’t answer, which means I guessed correctly.
“I think you dressed incorrectly for the job, though. I don’t think you’re capable of what I need in that.”
She frowns and sets her drink down.
“You don’t think I’m capable of stripping in front of a bunch of horny men?”
“No.”
She stands up suddenly, pulling her shitty phone with a shattered screen from a pocket in her skirt. She presses a button and music begins playing. These rooms are soundproof. They have to be to ensure the utmost privacy.
Slowly, Mila begins moving her hips to the music. I’m mesmerized. I can’t move or think. All I can do is watch.
She slowly moves her hands over her body, until it gets to the button on her suit jacket. She undoes the button and lets the jacket gape open. She’s not wearing a shirt underneath, just a red, lacey bra.
Fuck me.
Her boobs spill out of the bra, even though her body could use more meat on her bones.
She sways again, as her hands move to her back. She begins unzipping her skirt, and then it’s a puddle on the floor.
I know I’m drooling; I have to be as I watch her. And my cock has never been this hard.
She’s wearing nothing but a lacey, red thong and bra with her black pumps. She takes a step toward me, then another and another until she’s right in front of me.
She hesitates for just a second, and then she’s on my lap. Her body is gyrating over my crouch. Why the fuck did I wear jeans? Sweatpants, always wear sweatpants.
She reaches up and pulls the hair tie from her hair. Her hair cascades around me in long, thick strands.
“Fucking, beautiful,” I curse.
She pauses, not expecting my words.
“Still think I can’t strip in front of a room full of men?” she asks, as she caresses my neck and moves her lips inches from mine.
“No.” I grin.
She glares. She immediately rolls off me and starts dressing again. “I just stripped in front of you.”
“Stripping in front of me is different than stripping in a room full of men. And you didn’t fully strip anyway.”
Another scowl.
“Close enough,” she whispers.
I grab her wrist and pull her back onto my lap. “No, not close enough. But that’s not why you can’t strip in front of a room full of men.” Our faces are inches apart, and I want nothing more than to kiss her again.
“Why?” she breathes.
“Because I can’t stand to watch you strip in front of anyone but me.”
She gasps.
It takes her a while, but she finally finds her words. “I’m not sleeping with you to make money. I’m not a whore.”
I frown. “You are definitely not a whore. And I’m not going to fuck you.”
She narrows her eyes. “Then what do you want with me, Knight?”
I love the way she uses my last name as my first. I know it’s supposed to be her way of teasing me, as I do by picking out random nicknames for her. She doesn’t realize I’ve never gone by Ace though. I’ve only been Ace to one person. Knight is who I am. And it’s sexy as hell for her to figure it out on her own and call me that.
“I want you to do whatever I say, no questions asked.”
6
Mila
Knight wants me to fuck him. That’s what he means when he says he wants me to “do whatever I say.”
I can see it in his eyes, his voice is dripping with it, and even though he’s wearing jeans, I can feel his erection press against me. Hard as a rock, begging to be inside me.
Right now, I don’t know whether to regret that I’m straddling his lap almost entirely naked or to be thankful. How did I get myself into this mess?
My cheeks blush as his eyes rake up and down my body. I felt bold when I stripped for him even though he didn’t ask me to.
I thought it would give me the upper hand.
I thought he’d be distracted by my body.
I thought he’d be speechless.
I thought he’d realize I’m capable of anything.
Instead, I’m horny and embarrassed, and can’t do a damn thing about either.
I consider trying to move off his lap again, but his hands are firmly gripping my waist. I’m not going anywhere until we finish this conversation, no matter how uncomfortable it makes us.
This conversation is going to happen eye to eye, lips inches apart, with all of our lust on full display. Both of us completely vulnerable to each other.
Except, I feel a lot more vulnerable than he seems. Because I’m practically naked.
I grab the hem of his shirt.
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t protest as I lift the shirt over his head. I immediately regret it. I forgot how insanely hot he is. He’s all abs, tattoos, and muscle. Even the few scars and bruises now covering his body do nothing to make him any less attractive.
“Are you trying to get me to fuck you?” he asks.
“No, just want to level the playing field.”
“So, will you do anything I want?” His lips curl up as if he knows I’ll do anything he wants for free, and more than that for money.
“No, I’d rather strip for strangers than give you whatever you want.”
He shakes his head. “Stripping won’t pay the bills.” And the darkness in his eyes says he won’t let me anyway. Even though I don’t need his permission. We aren’t dating. We aren’t anything except two strangers who have kissed and are clinging to each other while shirtless.
“What does anything mean?”
He narrows his eyes but doesn’t speak.
“If this isn’t about sex, then what? You want me to pretend to date you?”
“I don’t want you to pretend to do anything.”
I gasp. I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t expecting any honesty in whatever it is we are doing.
“Why?”
“Because nothing I do will ever be pretend. I will always be honest with you, with my actions and words.”
I believe him; I do. He will be candid with me when he speaks, but that won’t stop him from hiding things from me. He is hiding the truth.
“I have a delicate situation I need your help with,” Knight says.
I study him, but he gives nothing away until he’s ready to. And I have a feeling I could work for him for years and never know what he’s hiding.
His hand tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I shiver. Our eyes lock, and I want nothing more than to fuck him. I don’t care if I have enough money to feed myself. I don’t care if I have a place to live. I’ll live off the high and afterglow from the orgasms he will give me.
Knight notices my reaction and removes his hands, placing them gently on the couch. My eyes are glued to his rough hands, capable of playing me like a guitar. And then I spot the tan line where a wedding ring used to be.
“You’re married?”
“Separated. Soon to be divorced.”
I lean back. “That’s what you want my help with. Making your ex jealous?”
He chuckles, leaning back on the couch. I like his smile. I like everything about him almost as much as I hate him.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Why was that funny?”
“Because you don’t know my ex. She doesn’t get jealous. She has no reason to. When we were married, I loved her with everything I had. I didn’t notice other women. I wouldn’t let myself. It was her and me against everything.”
“But not now?”
“No. Now I just want this over.”
His voice changes when he says over. It’s dark, deep, and broken. It’s final.
“Messy divorce?”
He doesn’t answer, which means yes.
“What do you want me to do then, if not make her jealous?”
“Anything I tell you.”
My cheeks blush as his cock twitches beneath me, making his words dirtier than they should be. I look away and try to compo
se myself. I gently blow air out of my pursed lips, and I expect him to make a dirty comment about how we should fuck, he knows it’s what I want.
But when I look at him again, he’s serious. His lips thinned, his cheeks plain, his eyes focused.
“What does anything mean? Can you give me some examples?”
“You will come to my office every day. Your formal title will be my assistant. I will then have you do anything I need. Bring me coffee, retrieve my dry cleaning, attend events with me.”
“Dry cleaning?” I eye his jeans and T-shirt. I doubt he even owns a suit.
He ignores my snarky remark.
“That’s it? I just get your coffee and go to a few events with you, and you will pay me—”
“I’ll pay you $250,000 over the next five months.”
My mouth gapes. I’ve never had that kind of money before. I knew he had money. He said millions.
“I never realized the strip club business was that lucrative,” I say when I get my voice back.
He chuckles and leans in like he’s going to kiss me but stops short. “It’s not.”
I suck in a breath. Never have I been so breathless. I need to go to the hospital when this is finished and get hooked up to some oxygen until I can breathe again.
“I will also guarantee you can continue your nursing degree in the spring.”
My eyes widen. “You can’t guarantee something like that.”
“I can with the donation I will be making to the school.”
Holy shit! He is rich, and he must really want me to work for him if he’s willing to donate money to the college.
“Shouldn’t you be doing that part for free since you’re the reason I got suspended in the first place?” Is what my smart mouth says instead of thanking him.
“No, you ran over my motorcycle. You denied me pain medications. I think if anything, you owe me.”
He’s right, but I’ll never tell him that.
“Why me?”
“You don’t think you are capable of getting me coffee?”
“I can get you coffee, but that is not what this job really entails. It’s not about getting you coffee. It’s about doing what you ask without question. And I’m sure most of the time I will just be getting you coffee, until…”
“Until?”
“Until the real reason you want to hire me. Until you ask me to do something illegal, dangerous, or sexual.”
“I would never ask you to do anything illegal.”
We stare at each other, neither of us blinking. But he would ask me to do something dangerous or sexual?
“Why me?”
“Because you are perfect for the job.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“That’s the only answer I’m giving you.”
“What happened to honesty?”
“I’m being honest. The job pays well, and you will hate me by the end of this, but you will have your life back.”
I frown. I don’t want his honesty anymore. This is a bad idea. The last time I dated a bad boy, it almost destroyed my entire family and me. I know he’s not asking me to date him, but he’s asking for me to be vulnerable, for me to trust him.
I’m not sure I can trust him, not when he isn’t honest with me. His words are the truth, but he’s hiding something. Something he isn’t saying. The real reasons he wants me to work for him. Something to do with his soon to be ex-wife.
“You’re young to have a wife.”
“I’m young to have millions sitting in my bank account too.”
I nod. “You’re not secretly a fifty-year-old man or something?”
“I’m twenty-four.”
I study him. He’s only two years older than I am, but somehow life has taken us on very different paths. I’m broke and about to do anything for money. He’s rich but desperate to get out of a bad situation. Money doesn’t fix anything; it just makes life more complicated. I should know.
“I’ll agree on one condition.”
He perks up, his eyes open more fully, and his lips purse like he’s going to kiss me if I say yes.
“You already said you’d never ask me to do anything illegal.”
He nods.
“And I can live with a little danger.” I already have enough danger in my life. “But no sex.”
“No sex?” he asks slowly.
“Yes, no sex. I won’t fuck you for money.”
He smiles when I say fuck.
“I’m not asking you to fuck me for money. I don’t pay for sex. I’m not going to pretend with you, Mila. Everything that happens between us will be real. I won’t fuck you if you don’t want me to.”
I will just break your heart. He doesn’t say the words, but they are implied. If I do this, I will end up broken.
It’s not possible to be more broken than I’ve been. He doesn’t know about my past.
“Last condition.”
He chuckles. “You said that last time.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “I need an honest answer.”
He leans back, waiting for me to continue.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to work for me.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I mean, what do you want from life?” I can’t work for a broken man who is just out for revenge. He doesn’t have to be a saint, but I need to know his life is more than making his ex’s life a living hell.
Knight looks away, and I don’t think he’s going to answer me. It’s a personal question, and I need a truthful answer to agree to do this.
He’s not going to be honest. He’s going to let me go. I’m not going to get this job.
“I want freedom.”
Our eyes meet, and I realize the truth. It’s what we both want.
Freedom from our pasts.
Freedom to be ourselves.
Freedom to be happy.
Freedom to have a future.
“I accept your job offer.” I hold out my hand, even though I’m not wearing a shirt or pants.
Even though he’s shirtless.
Even though we’ve kissed.
He smiles and shakes my hand. “Miss Burns, I think we are going to make a perfect team.”
7
Knight
“Now what?” Mila asks, her eyes big with fear about what’s coming, but also a tiny bit turned on. I know if I reached between her legs right now I’d find her wet. I haven’t let my eyes glimpse her cunt that’s wrapped in sexy lace. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise of not fucking her without her permission. I’d turn into an animal who wouldn’t be able to stop.
“When does my job start? What hours do I work?”
“Immediately, and any hour I want you.”
She shivers on my lap, which doesn’t help my hard on. It’s been too long since I’ve wanted a woman this badly.
I want to tell Mila to give me a lap dance. To see how far she will take her new job responsibilities. I want to torture her, but I’m not sure who I would be torturing more.
“What does my bad boss want me to do now?” she teases in her sultry voice.
“Get dressed.”
Her eyes widen further into big green orbs.
“And never talk dirty again. It doesn’t suit you. Your voice is more than enough.”
“I wasn’t trying to—”
I give her a look, and she stops. She was teasing me, trying to get under my skin. I know she thinks I’m nothing but a bad boy. She probably thinks I stole the money I’ve earned. Or earned it off of young women who dance for me. She doesn’t know I’ve barely earned a penny from this club.
Mila climbs off of me slowly, like she’s deliberately trying to drive me crazy as she rubs her body against mine. But I know it’s not deliberate. She just doesn’t realize how sexy she is.
She pulls her skirt on and buttons the jacket over her bra. She picks up the hair tie and ties her hair up high on her head into a ponytail again. And I’m left wondering if she was s
exier in her lingerie or now fully dressed. I don’t have an answer.
She stares at me, and I smile smugly as she eats me up.
“Are you going to get dressed?”
“Huh?” Oh, I forgot I wasn’t wearing a shirt. I grab my T-shirt and throw it over my head.
“Have you eaten dinner yet?” I ask even though I know the answer. No. And if she did eat, she needs to eat a second dinner; she’s far too skinny for what is healthy.
“Eat dinner here, at the club?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
Mila frowns not understanding my words.
“I think a more appropriate answer when your boss gives you an order would be yes, sir.”
She laughs. “Not happening, Knight.”
I pout, and she laughs harder almost knocking herself off balance on her heels. I stand up and grab her hand, just before she crashes to the floor and I have to take her to the hospital. As much as I enjoyed our first kiss at the hospital, I don’t want to have to go back to the hospital with her anytime soon.
“You sure, Mila? I could make you.”
She stares down at my arm where I’m holding her. “You could, but you won’t. You may be an asshole, but you won’t force me.”
“How do you know?”
She frowns and shakes her head. “I don’t know how I know. I just do.”
I nod, understanding completely.
I take her hand and walk her back out to the world of dangerous men, sex, and money. A world I want her far away from.
I lead her quickly out of the club, and then to my motorcycle that is waiting for us.
“Do you always park your motorcycle illegally?”
“No, it’s the club manager’s job to know when a client wants to leave.”
“I don’t care how expensive this motorcycle is; I’m not getting on it.”
I let go of her hand and collect two helmets and hold one out to her.
“No.” She stubbornly crosses her arms.
I sigh. “The agreement was that you do whatever I tell you to do. Without argument.”
“I don’t think that was the agreement.”
“Read the fine print.”
“There is no fine print. We didn’t sign anything.”