by Debra Kayn
Tiff's hand slid off her hip, and she straightened. Jeremy reached over and palmed the back of Tiff's neck, holding her in place. She had days to figure out her position in his life, and now she had to deal with everything that came with him, including Lola.
"I need you to do something for me," he said.
Lola tore her gaze off Tiff and smiled up at him. "Anything."
"I'll be moving into the Sterling Building, and I need you to call if anything happens here. Gunner's switching room and will be two doors down. He'll keep an eye on the girls and you." He pulled Tiff closer.
"So, the same routine as if you're gone." Lola sighed. "I thought you were going to stay here."
"I'm not getting into my reasons why I changed my plans." Jeremy leaned over and kissed Lola's cheek. "I'll talk to you later. I want to know what kind of reaction the men have when they find out I'm back with Tiff, and I need that info before the meeting tomorrow night."
"Fine." Lola blew out her breath.
Jeremy turned Tiff around and took her with him to his Harley. He caught her anger and jerked his chin, stopping her from questioning him. She needed to learn to keep her mouth shut and never show her disapproval in front of others. He'd worked too damn hard earning respect inside the pen to have his woman throw out suspicion in his direction.
He picked up Tiff's bag and bungee corded it on to the back of his bitch seat. Later, he'd return to get what clothes he owned, talk to Lola, and hold on to the control he felt slipping at the changes coming into his life. He'd planned for the day everything would go down, and nothing would stop him. Knowing the crowd that filled the Sterling Building when Silver Girls opened and having the women around who occupied the building, he could already feel the tension settling in the middle of his back. He hated crowds and Tiff believed he'd stand down and let her run the show.
The task of sealing the Sterling Building added on to the load he already carried.
He got on the bike, balanced, and waited until Tiff settled her ass behind him. Then he rode the five minutes into town.
At the back of the building, Tiff hopped off the motorcycle before he toed the kickstand. "You kissed her."
He threw his leg over the seat and worked on the Bungee cord. Away from his club, she could throw the biggest hissy fit she wanted, and he'd listen to her all day. She'd learn her place after a few hard lessons.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Tiff stepped up to him and pushed his chest. "You kissed her!"
"Touch me one more time when you're angry, baby, and I'll show you how red your ass can be when I throw you over my shoulder." He walked past her and toward the back door.
"Stop right there." She grabbed the back of his vest. "I changed my mind."
Fuck, he'd missed her temper.
He lowered his gaze to her breasts, rising and falling with her rapid breathing. "You changed your mind about what?"
"You." She shook her head in frustration. "What is it about Lola that makes you hang on her like you can't get enough?"
He ignored her questions and opened the door, stepping inside. Her gasp had reached his ears before the door swung shut. She quickly opened the door again and stepped inside.
He frowned. "The alarm didn't go off."
"Don't change the subject. I want you to leave. You can come back when you've broken off your little affair with your bestie." She stormed into the main room.
Music rocked the building with a low bass tune. He followed Tiff and found the Silver Girls — or who he guessed were the new Silver Girl dancers — sashaying around the main room in all kinds of clothing. Some wore shorts. Some wore tights. Some were in nothing but a bikini.
Tiff weaved around the tables and sat in the far corner. His jaw ticked with restrained amusement, and he tightened his hold on her bag. After she got over whatever bothered her, he'd take her upstairs and plant himself deep between her legs. A fucking week wasn't long enough to catch up on all the sex he'd missed for years.
"No. Stop the music." An older woman standing at the front facing the women waved her hands in the air, and the song died a swift death. "Melissa, you move to the end, and Bonnie come to the middle."
The woman with black hair and an ass that her shorts struggled to contain stepped away from the line of women and spotted Jeremy. "Um, Shari, we've got company. A big, big guy is looking like he's about ready to kill one of us."
The older woman turned, squinted, and slowly smiled. "Jeremy from Moroad Motorcycle Club, is that you?"
He dipped his chin confirming her question, remembering the woman who trained the dancers and belonged to Lee from Bantorus MC. "How are you, Shari?"
"Oh, honey, I'm always good." Shari walked over to him. "Man, have you grown up to look like your daddy."
He ran his hand over his beard, pulling his whiskers straight. "I've heard that a lot."
A low murmur went through the dancers. He glanced over at them. The whispers behind the hands. The bold looks. The breasts thrust out. He nodded, letting his gaze meet each woman and turned his attention back to Shari, his intro complete.
"What are you doing here?" Shari's eyes rounded, and she searched the room, finding Tiff. "I see."
"Yeah." He widened his stance. "I'm moving upstairs."
"No, he isn't," said Tiff.
Jeremy winked at Shari. "I'll just take her out of the room, and you can continue practicing."
Shari stepped back, failing to hide her smile. He marched over to Tiff, set the bag on the table, leaned over, and threw Tiff over his shoulder. Tiff beat her fists on his ass and thighs.
"Sorry to interrupt." He wrapped his arm around Tiff's legs dangling over his chest, picked up the bag, and strode out of the room and up the stairs.
Girls whistled and clapped, shutting Tiff up. He set her feet on the ground at the top of the second-floor landing.
"Open the door." He cupped the back of her neck.
She glared, followed his directions, and reached in to shut off the alarm. He followed her down the hall to her room where he waited again for her to unlock the door. Once inside the room, he threw her bag on the floor.
"Now, you can tell me why the back door was open and the alarm not activated." He waited for her to turn around and when she refused, he continued. "You've got the upstairs locked down tight, and left the downstairs wide open. I've already shown you how easy it was for me to get up inside your room."
Tiff raised her hand and threaded her fingers through her hair. "The back door stays open when the dancers are here to practice. We've never had any problems with unwelcomed visitors as long as the front door remains locked and the closed sign up. The two motorcycle clubs are free to come and go whenever the dancers are here. Moroad men enjoy watching them dance during non-work hours, and Bantorus will often stay with the girls if they feel added protection is needed. Obviously, you caught them on a day when all the men decided to let the girls do what they do best without any distractions."
"You'll change that policy. The men from both clubs can come and go as you see fit, but that door stays locked. If any of them have a problem knocking first, I'll deal with them." He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her from the back. "Are you done fighting?"
"I don't care about your safety rules." She leaned back against his chest. "You kissed Lola."
"I kissed Lola on the cheek." He held her tighter. "I'm not fucking her."
"But you care about her." Her voice warbled.
"I do."
"Even back when I met you, she came between us." Tiff pushed out of his embrace and walked toward the open kitchen. She stood behind the island separating the living space. "What does she have over you?"
"Nothing."
She looked down and rubbed at the marble counter. "Then what does she have that I can't give you?"
"Nothing." He stepped over and sat on the leather couch and stretched his legs out. "I've told you there's nothing for you to worry about between Lola and me. I'm not cheating on y
ou. I'm not fucking her. We talk and we're close. That's it."
Tiff leaned over the counter and buried her hands in her hair. "You're having an emotional affair, and we haven't even been back together a week. That's just great, Jeremy."
"We've been together for eighteen years since the day I asked you to go on a ride with me. Don't turn this into my problem, because you're jealous for no fucking reason." He let his head fall back on the couch.
She tapped her fingers against the counter. He ignored her.
"Whatever." She walked toward him and stood behind the couch, peering down into his upside-down eyes. "Someday, Jeremy Aldridge, you will wake up and realize that everything you want is right in front of you. I hope you don't fuck it up because I won't stand by why you make a fool of me with Lola."
She bent her knees, kissed his lips upside down, and walked out of the room into her bedroom. He closed his eyes. A few hours of solitude sounded better than ever.
Chapter Twelve
The women of Red Light sat around the table in the main kitchen. Tiff clasped her hands in front of her, trying to concentrate and stay professional. The task impossible with Jeremy standing behind her, holding her hips.
Doing business with him always present posed stressful. She wanted to keep him separated from the activities taking place upstairs, afraid he'd see or hear something that would make him change his mind about supporting an illegal business.
She feared he'd force her to stop, because being with her put him in danger of being arrested again if a raid happened. While single, she took the risk because no one depended on her. If she got arrested, no one would care.
Marci stood from the table. "Okay, I got it. Downstairs locked at all times, except for the front door during business hours for Silver Girls."
There were days Tiff had no idea where she'd be without Marci at her back. She cleaned, kept track of the girls, made appointments for everyone in the building, and took care of them all without even knowing how special she was or how much Tiff and the girls appreciated her.
"Thanks." Tiff leaned back against Jeremy. If she concentrated on one obstacle at a time, she could make everything work. "The rest of you ladies need to get ready. Your break is over. Next surge of customers come in ten minutes. Don't forget to grab the rubber-backed rugs out of the closet and make sure the men stay to their time limit. The customers earlier were pushing everyone back three minutes. If you can't finish the job the customer paid for then you make sure the men pay ahead of time for more minutes."
"Gotcha." Hannah popped out of her chair, grabbed her copy of People magazine, and left the room.
Keely blew on her freshly painted fingernails and remained sitting at the table, oblivious to the new information and order to prepare for customers. Tiff cleared her throat. Sometimes she wondered why Keely joined the network, but she made it a rule never to get involved in the women's personal life or invade their privacy.
"Sorry." Keely waved her hands in front of her and backed away from the table. "I'll be ready in time."
Tiff nodded, forgiving the girl again. Gun-shy and full of self-doubt, she performed an innocent act the men loved, except she suspected Keely wasn't faking any part of her reluctance to spread her legs.
The second they were alone, Jeremy asked, "What's wrong with her?"
"You." She turned in his arms and sighed. "Keely opens up and behaves like the others, but as soon as a man walks into the same room or she has to go out on the town, she shuts down."
"What the fuck is she doing selling sex, huh?" He frowned.
She shrugged. "In this business, I never ask or want to know. The girls are only here for three months. Afterward, I put them on a plane to go somewhere else in the United States to work at a different bordello. Then, four new girls come to work for me."
"Why such a short amount of time?"
She spread her hands on Jeremy's chest. "The people who run the network of working girls use the time limit to encourage them not to get attached to their regular customers or their environment. It's their attempt at keeping them under control and in the network longer. Every woman likes to travel and enjoy new adventures."
Jeremy grunted.
She checked her phone. "Hey, I don't make the rules. I have to follow the guidelines or get pushed out on my own. I don't want to take the risk of propositioning women or keeping them long term. My fallback story with the locals means I run a safe house for abused women. They're expected to move on quickly."
Jeremy picked up his coffee cup and drained the rest of the drink. "Moroad women have been doing the same thing those girls are doing for years. It's always been where the club supports the women. They've never had a woman run away, and not one of them ever acted like that chick, Keely. They enjoy sex."
"Hm." He was right. As soon as she was old enough and aware of why the women hung around Moroad, she'd never seen an unhappy face or a runaway. The women stayed, content and happy to please the men.
Her phone beeped. "I need to let in the first round of customers. We can't have them loitering in the back or the alley or..."
"What?"
"Nothing. It's the rules that we follow to keep the business from leaking out to those who wouldn't want a bordello in town." She stepped away from him. "If we keep the men from drifting and run a strict schedule, it keeps the residents of Federal from calling the sheriff to investigate anything unusual around the building. It worked thirty years ago, and seems to work now, too."
Outside the room, she took a deep breath. Someday, she'd have to explain Sheriff Colby's involvement with Red Light. But, today was not the day.
She squinted through the peephole in the door. Thomas Ritter stood on the other side, glancing to his left and then right. She unlocked the door and smiled.
"Welcome, Mr. Ritter." She stepped back and waited for him to walk inside before shutting the door. "We have you down in the blue room, correct?"
Mr. Ritter bobbed his head and cleared his throat. "Yes."
"Excellent." She walked with him halfway down the hallway and stopped. "Would you like to sit in the waiting area and browse the magazines for a couple of minutes?"
Sometimes the men came to Red Light nervous and unable to perform, no matter how badly they wanted to spend time with one of the women, and needed a little visual encouragement.
Sweat broke out across Mr. Ritter's high forehead. "I'm good to go."
"Wonderful." She knocked on the appropriate door.
Hannah answered immediately and lazily leaned against the doorframe. "Good evening, Thomas."
Once the customer was inside the room, Tiff hurried to the main kitchen and set the color-coordinated timer. "I need to get the next three customers going. I'll be right back."
Jeremy leaned back in the chair, arms crossed, and an intense frown marking his brows. "This goes on all night?"
"Only until eight. Anything after that will draw attention when Silver Girls opens at nine." She held up her finger to have him hold any more questions until she returned and hurried to the back door.
The regular customers understood the routine. They never waited together, and they exited the room alone. Many of the men knew each other, and some were related. There were father and sons, uncles and grandpas. Red Light worked hard to avoid any awkward moments and to keep everyone comfortable. Confidentiality kept their customers returning.
The men understood the need for secrecy. They'd heard the stories of what happened before when Federal ran a whole string of bordellos until only one was left. They didn't want to lose a good thing.
The mayor entered, and she quickly escorted him to Keely in the Red Room. After all the rooms had been filled and all timers set, she sat beside Jeremy and leaned into his arm.
"You don't have to hang out here." She raised her chin and kissed his neck. "You're going to get bored."
Jeremy remained quiet, not moving a muscle.
She tilted her head. "There's cable television in the suite you can wa
tch, or you can go to the motel and hang with your MC brothers."
His gaze narrowed.
Her skin tingled. Something was wrong. "I could call—"
The timer dinged. She jumped up, unable to finish what she was going to say and do more for Jeremy. The most important task of the night was to get the men out of the rooms so that the next customer could come in, and business could continue.
"Hang on. The second appointments are ending, and I need to get the next wave of men inside one by one." She escaped out of the room and went to the Blue Room, knocked, and opened the door, relaxing to find Mr. Ritter fully dressed and smiling.
Four men out the door, four more escorted in, and she hurried back to the main kitchen to finish her conversation with Jeremy and found him gone. She leaned against the table. The great relief like a burst of energy. How was she going to keep up with business with him judging her every step?
All day he'd refused to talk about her work and going by his refusal to do something else instead of staying upstairs, something bothered him. He came across bullheaded and unpredictable. Even the ladies working for her walked wide around him, afraid of messing up.
She turned on the last timer and sat down for the eight minutes left on the first man's visit. Her phone laid on the table. Shit.
Jeremy left, and she had no way to call him. He never gave her his phone number or even knew if he carried a cell phone. She needed to go shopping. He deserved a homemade meal. As soon as he came back, she'd ask him what he wanted to have in the fridge.
He'd missed out on the small things while in prison. Maybe she'd surprise him with a few things he'd never experienced like those pasties they sell at Country Mart or a fancy coffee. All she had in the building was regular decaf.
Marci peeked her head in the room. "Do you have a minute?"
"Yeah." She glanced at the timer. "Five, to be exact."
"I don't need that long." Marci glanced down the hall before turning her attention back to Tiff. "Jeremy's outside talking to one of the men due to come up in the next round. I spotted him when I took the trash down to the dumpster. I thought you might want to know."