by Cynthia Dane
Something akin to a snort erupted. Was that his way of laughing? “Do I? I haven’t heard someone say that in a while. Give it time. You’ll see how disagreeable I can be.”
O… kay. Alice wasn’t going to say anything about that.
“This sort of place must not bother you if you’re working here.”
Is he testing me? “I tend to go with the flow.”
“Is that so?”
A blur appeared on the stairs, rushing into the room and gaping in a mix of fear and awe at poor Alice as she sat right next to Mr. Monroe. “Oh, oh my…” Susan cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about the trouble, Mr. Monroe,” she said, placing a firm hand on Alice’s shoulder. “Please excuse us.”
“Of course. Ms. Culver was merely keeping me company, as I asked her to.”
“Absolutely, sir. Excuse us.” Susan yanked Alice off the couch and dragged her toward the stairs. “What were you doing?” she hissed, once they were alone.
Alice stood up straight at the top of the stairs. “He wanted a hostess to keep him company. Is that not part of my job?”
“Listen…” Susan brought her halfway down the stairs and lowered her voice. “Do not attempt to please that man on your own. Do you understand?”
Not really, but what was Alice supposed to say? “I understand. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Susan’s face immediately softened. “I’m not mad at you, I promise. You simply must understand that it’s not a good idea to hang around the guests like that – especially the owner – until you’ve gotten your feet wetter. There are many subtleties to this place. One false step and you risk everything.”
She never expanded upon that. Instead, Susan insisted that they get back to their work. Guests would continue to arrive until around midnight, when people were more likely to leave. Sure enough, midnight rolled around, and their jobs greeting guests was, for the most part, over. What the next two hours would be dedicated to was checking up on the guests still there… and the most unpleasant aspect of the job. Namely, cleaning the private rooms.
Over the course of that night, Alice helped Susan clean three rooms, each one more disgusting than the last. When she wasn’t avoiding bodily fluids, she was pulling plastic sheets off beds and disinfecting the tools of the BDSM trade. Susan warned her that it often looked like sexual warzones in these rooms over the weekend. Thursday was nothing. Thursday was people getting off.
Susan did most of the dirtier work while Alice checked for wine stains and kept the cleaning supplies organized. By one in the morning, however, the club was mostly dead. The rooms were totally empty once a Chinese diplomat escaped with his new American friend.
“I desperately need to take a break,” Susan said after the cleaning. “Be a dear and tidy up some of the VIP rooms over there? I have no idea what might have happened in them, but it’s nothing you can’t handle by now. If you’re really in a dilemma, come find me in the break room.”
Alice took the cleaning supplies to the first of three VIP rooms to have been occupied that night. Sure enough, the usual suspects emerged. Trash? Ha! I wish it was just trash! Napkins were joined by condom wrappers and other napkins covered in… she did not want to know. Ew.
Fatigue began to catch up to her after the second room. Music thrummed in the club proper, but back here it was a bit quieter… peaceful, really. Low lights. Black lights. Comfortable seating. Alice thought about taking a break herself, but she would be out of there soon enough. She could wait to sit down on a comfy sofa until she got home. With any luck, Candice would still be up and they could watch TV reruns.
The final room wasn’t that dirty. Certainly nothing disgusting, unless one counted snot covered tissue. By now, that’s awesome. To be on the safe side, Alice sprayed down the stripper pole as she did in every room, picking up a clean washcloth to wipe it off with.
Once she finished, she let her hand linger on the pole and took one quick swing. Alice wasn’t athletic enough to do anything more than a couple swings with her feet still planted on the ground, but she giggled at the sudden rush it gave her.
“Having fun?”
Alice tripped at the sound of that deep voice. “Oh! I’m… sorry, sir.”
She stood up with a start, hands clear of the pole. There, standing in front of the closed door, was Mr. Monroe, still bedecked in a perfectly tailored suit and smelling of that flowery aroma that somehow made him more masculine. It’s that damned jasmine. Forever and ever that damned fucking jasmine!
“No worries. You know what they say about all work and no play.”
Should she nod? Feign ignorance? This was the first time in a while she still had Susan with her. Did this count as a big dilemma? How was Alice supposed to announce it?
Was he coming closer? He was coming closer. Fuck. What do I do? Alice struggled to maintain a poker face. Hard to do when one of the richest men in the world was slowly advancing on her. Monroe stayed a good distance away, but he had such a commanding presence that he was the one swallowing the room whole, not the other way around. He’s like a black hole, isn’t he? Soon enough Alice would be pulled into the inferno that was Monroe’s bright eyes.
Monroe crossed the room, slowly, keeping a respectful distance between himself and Alice as he approached a long cupboard. He gestured to the keyhole. “Mind opening this for me? Unfortunately, I don’t carry that same ring of keys you have, even though I own half this place.”
Alice pulled out her keys. Inside the closet was a collection of bottled drinks waitresses could grab on the fly. We’re supposed to write down every time someone takes a drink. She looked at the small pad hanging by the door as she inserted the key. Monroe leaned against the wall next to her, that cologne killing her senses.
“Thank you.” His hand brushed against hers as he helped himself to a bottle of beer. The refrigeration inside the closet made Alice shiver. “Here. Let me get that.” Monroe picked up the pen dangling from the pad and marked his own acquisition. “Don’t want you getting in trouble your first day on the job because the owner made off with some complimentary beers.”
Alice opened her mouth, but no words came out. Shit. What do I say to the boss?
Monroe popped the lid off the bottle and handed the whole thing to her. “Want some? You can have the first sip. You probably need it after a night like tonight.”
“No thank you.” Alice cleared her throat. Finally, she could speak again. “That’s kind of you, sir.”
Long lashes fluttered. How could this guy have so much hair and yet be so clean looking? His hair and eyebrows were trimmed, yes, but he had such long lashes and the most handsome stubble on his chin and upper lip. It would have looked casually grown if Alice didn’t already suspect this man was intimately familiar with a trimmer.
“Not many people call me kind, that’s for sure.” He drank some of his beer before pushing himself off the wall. “You must not know much about me, Ms. Culver.”
There was something special about the way he said her name. It wasn’t accented, but it was… emphatic. “Miss CUL-vvver.” Harsh at first, but tapering into an unheard softness. She never thought much of her name before. It was there. It was hers, but it was also her parents’. Was Culver that rare of a name? No way. Alice went to high school with another Culver, and they occasionally spent time trying to figure out if they were related. Going back three generations, however, never brought up any genetic crossovers.
Maybe it was rare. Monroe certainly made it sound exotic.
“You’re right, I don’t know much about you, sir.” She had heard of his name here and there. In the news. The general media. He wasn’t a household name, but he owned enough property in the area to be spoken of in business articles. Personally, though? Alice had only vaguely heard of Damon Monroe. Not until she got this job had she considered an actual person behind the name.
Monroe leaned in closer. For someone who had taken more than a few sips of beer so far, Alice could not smell it on his breath. Th
at’s how close he’s standing. I can smell his breath! “May I warn you, Ms. Culver…” Shivers tore through her. What? What was that about? “That your coworkers have been warning you about me all night.”
Alice tilted her head, the cabinet finally locking behind her. It was true. Susan was dedicated to keeping Alice away from Mr. Monroe in such an intimate way. Wait. Was this intimate? Surely, it wasn’t that special…
Monroe moved away, taking his bottle with him. “Thank you for the drink, Ms. Culver. I look forward to seeing you around.”
She cleared her throat again, remembering to put her keys away. “Good night, sir.”
He stopped in the doorway. Before Alice could ask if he needed anything else, Monroe left, door still open.
A sigh escaped Alice’s poor and fraught body as soon as she was alone again. Wow. Was the room lighter? The air easier to breathe? Monroe had such a gravitas about him that she almost choked on it. Willingly, too. That black hole was doing its damndest to suck her in and flatten her like a pancake. No wonder her coworkers had warned her about him. When he wasn’t striking fear into people’s hearts, he was probably toying with them, making them wonder how long it would be until the other shoe dropped and they lost their jobs… or worse…
What was worse? Alice didn’t want to know. Monroe had been pleasant with her so far tonight, but that could’ve been for any reason. Like her being new. Or maybe he had a good day and wasn’t drunk enough to turn into a raging asshole. There were so many factors. Maybe I should ask Susan about him. Find out what kind of man Damon Monroe was. Or at least what kind of man they would warn against.
Alice returned to the groove of cleaning. It was almost one-thirty in the morning. In another hour the club would be closed, and then a half hour after that she would finally be released to go home for a bath and a good night’s sleep. Then it would start all over again the next night. I’m ready. This job wasn’t so bad. She could do this. If she turned off the filter that made her see the strange things with stranger eyes, she would survive. She wasn’t an easy woman to scandalize, especially by her late 20s.
She had finished straightening up the feather pillows on one of the couches when the door clicked shut behind her. Alice glanced over her shoulders.
Monroe was about two feet behind her, holding his finger up to his lips… shielding a wicked, wicked smirk.
Chapter 2
“Is there something I can help you with?”
Monroe extended his silencing finger from his lips to hers. Guess I’ll shut up. Where was the light going? The air? Alice held her breath in case it was the difference between staying alive and suffocating.
“Two words, Ms. Culver.” His voice was the air now. Gentle. Thick. Quiet. Alice thought she had to strain to hear him. On the contrary, the room was so quiet she could hear her own heart beating. “Yes. No. That’s it. Those are the only words you’re allowed to say for now. Do you understand?”
She swallowed. Bile? Hopefully not. “Yes,” she squeaked, even though she had no idea what was going on. “Yes, sir.”
“Ah. I suppose I should allow that as a third word. Sir is fine. I like the way you say ‘sir,’ Ms. Culver. Very much so.”
Another gulp, eyes wide, hands curling into nervous fists. What’s going on? Is he flirting with me? No. No way. This man did not flirt. He was rich. Handsome. Confident. Those types of men didn’t flirt. They demanded. Up front.
Oh. My. God.
Alice realized why Susan was really steering her away from Mr. Monroe. That reason was coming for her right now.
She stumbled back against the couch, landing with bowed legs and hands snatching the armrest. She had fluffed these pillows, too!
Monroe loomed over her, refraining from touching her, but his fingers twitching in delight. For her? Really?
Alice wouldn’t pretend that she had never experienced situations like this before. College was ripe with them. She had spent the better part of her undergrad years watching one frat guy after another come up to her acting like the hottest shit in the universe. What was her problem? Didn’t she know she was lanky and blonde? She owed them her body! They were promised hot girls when they got to college, and they would damn well have whatever hot girl pleased them. Luckily for Alice, most of those guys were too chickenshit to try anything terrible, but she had left more than one frat party resigned to never going again.
Adulthood hadn’t been much better. Actually, in a lot of ways it was worse. Men on the street catcalled her. Going to the club with Candice guaranteed a few guys cornering them on the dance floor and trying to get their numbers.
All those situations had been different. In every one of those, Alice’s natural defense was to ignore, to betray, to run away. She wanted nothing to do with those men. They were weak in spirit. Gross in body. Abhorrent in heart. Some combination of all three.
Monroe was none of those things. Not the first two, anyway. Alice didn’t know him well enough to speak of his heart.
He had a spirit strong enough to make her recognize it earlier that night. His body? Ha! The more he loomed over her, arms surrounding her as he lowered his lips toward hers, the more Alice recognized an exquisite beauty to him. Somehow this man took classic masculinity and drove it up to eleven… thousand.
That cologne bloomed around her countenance. A hundred blossoms flowered, their scent overwhelming her as his stubble grazed her cheek. Fuck! He was this close?
Alice was far from a kissing virgin, whether vanilla or the French variety. Nevertheless, she felt like the most inexperienced lass in the cosmos when Monroe whispered, “Yes?”
That wildly thumping heart within Alice’s rib cage knew exactly what he meant. “Y…” No, no! This was wrong. This was terrible! She should not be in this situation while on the job! No matter how handsome her boss was! No! Say no, dummy!
“Yes?”
The word barely eked from her lips when Monroe kissed hers.
The man, for all his gentle whispering, was not a gentle kisser. The moment he kissed her was the moment she witnessed the brunt of his power. She thought she knew nothing about his heart? How about feeling it through his kiss? Strong. Determined. Experienced. Monroe was not a man who wasted time. He probably couldn’t afford to with his packed money-making schedule. Still, didn’t a man need to take a break here and there to relax? Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? He deserved it. So what if Alice could get in trouble for this? That was always in the back of her mind as she accepted his tongue deep into her mouth. Her hands eased up his lapel, wrapped around the back of his head and brought him closer. Closer.
I want him so close I don’t know what’s going on anymore.
“Ms. Culver,” her name growled on her lips. Monroe’s hand touched her chest, fingers toying with her nipple through the thin bust of her dress. Oh, no. Someone was popping out to say hello, much to the boss’s happiness. “I think we know what we both want.”
Uh huh. That didn’t take much to figure out. He wants to… He pinched her nipple. Alice jostled about in her seat, almost pushing him away. On accident, of course. Why would she want him to leave her when they were getting started? I’ll let him do anything… What was making her think this? Alice Culver was a careful woman. She didn’t sleep with just anyone. She had boyfriends she never even platonically slept over with, let alone had sex with. One night stand? Never in her life! She didn’t hold sex as something sacred, but she didn’t hand it out to any guy who came by…
Monroe wasn’t just any guy, now was he?
Did he have a girlfriend? Was he married? How about his disease status? Was he one of those freaks who ran around poking holes in his condoms to knock up as many women as possible? Would he turn into a violent misogynist halfway through the deed? Sure, it was fun now, Alice’s conscience warned, but what would happen once he stuck it in? Wait, why was she assuming that was going to happen?
Probably because Monroe pulled away from her long enough to take her by the hands and lift her off
the couch.
Alice never said no. Was it shock? Was it desire? What was keeping her from daring to say no? I’m on another planet right now. His kiss was such a powerful aphrodisiac that Alice played right into following him to the wall and flattening her back against it. Monroe was everywhere around her. Kissing her lips. Sucking her throat. Sometimes gently. Sometimes wantonly. His hands touched places that had never been touched before. Her breasts, snug in his grip. Her ass, fighting to stay against the wall even though it desperately wanted to feel his touch as well. Her thighs, always on the verge of being spread around his waist. Holy shit… Alice was on the other end of his tongue exploring her mouth when Monroe lifted her skirt over her hips and pinched her warm thighs.
“I hope I haven’t given you a terrible impression of me, Ms. Culver,” he grunted right into her ear. Do it again. Every time he spoke, his voice plummeted into her body, landing right in her gut and expanding through her loins. That wasn’t all her soaking her underwear right now. “Have I done such a thing?” She could hear the smirk, even if she couldn’t see it.
“No…” Was that the magic word to make him stop talking and get back to kissing? The aphrodisiac wasn’t wearing off, but Alice wouldn’t say it was a bad thing to be filled with crazy lust for her boss right now.
“Good.” Strong fingers pulled on her underwear – but not before tugging on the bust of her dress. Usually Alice was embarrassed by the size of her breasts. While not a pair of mosquito bites resting on the pale plains of her body, they were nothing for any boy in the world to write home to his buddies about. They were on the small side of proportional to her frame, and she would take it.
Yet in Monroe’s eager hands, they felt like the most majestic tits in the universe.
Whatever he thought about them was betrayed by the way he fondled, molded, and sucked on her malleable flesh. Sharp shots of pleasure jolted Alice awake in unfathomable ways. If she thought she was aroused before? Nothing compared to the way Monroe’s tongue danced circles around her erect nipples and his teeth nipped her flesh. Whenever she opened her eyes, she saw his gazing back. Terrible. Otherworldly. Needy. This was a man who wanted to go beyond heavy petting and making out. He wanted her.