Smoldered

by Rachel Blaufeld

  Asher had already closed the subject, though, and moved back from me, freeing me to stumble over the thoughts that rolled like tumbleweeds inside my head.

  “I’ve had enough of this conversation. It’s over, and now I know what I gotta do. Let’s eat.” Asher then turned and grabbed a plate.

  And just like that, the infuriating man put the conversation to bed. I had to find a way to divert him, except at the moment, he had hopped up on the counter next to me and set a huge plate overflowing with food he made between us and handed me a fork.

  “Dig in, Nat. Maybe you’ll like it so much, you’ll want to come back.” And just like that, he had flashed me a big grin, his eyes lit up like big silver Christmas ornaments.

  As we shared an intimate breakfast, eating from a single plate, every other care in the world had flitted off into space. My hamsa had dangled from my neck as it always did—until I went to take a shower before going home.

  KNOCKED BACK into the present, I gritted my teeth as I muttered, “The bathroom,” to myself. Damn, my thinking had gone on a long-term vacation that day. Before I took a quick shower, I had taken the necklace off and never put it back on, all because I was too smitten and distracted.

  I hurried the hell up, slamming the rest of my groceries on the conveyer belt, paid, and got the hell out of the store. After I rushed home and tossed the cold stuff in my fridge, I dashed to Asher’s place.

  Go Directly Home

  Asher

  AFTER CLEANING up and dressing in jeans, combat boots, and a black shirt, I walked back into my bedroom to find the luscious pair in my bed wrapped around each other, asleep once again.

  Oh well. I headed to my garage, then backed out the driveway in my SUV. I’d grab coffee on the way to meet Big Mike. Now in charge of all my security, both inside the club and out, he had investigated Sienna’s stalker and was going to debrief me.

  Then I had a new assignment for him.

  What the hell was making Natalie so cagey? I’d had Petey on her at the Tunnel, but she was giving him lip, and he didn’t like the conflict. The guy might resemble me physically, but emotionally he was a cream puff. Pete hid it when it came to the girls and customers, but when it came to me, he couldn’t. I knew his feelings were getting the best of him, and he wasn’t going to be able to find out shit when it came to Natalie. He felt too guilty over her almost getting hurt on his shift.

  I steered my monster of a truck into the parking lot of the local coffee joint, grabbed a large cup to go, and headed straight to my club. The Electric Tunnel was the center of my universe. I loved the fucking place, the large purple lightning bolt on the roof, my constant beacon, welcoming me home day in and day out.

  The club now known as the Electric Tunnel had started out years before as a shithole known as the Tunnel-O. I’d won it in a bet, back when I was still wet behind the ears but thought I knew everything. Marv, the original owner, threw the joint in the pot during a late-night poker game in the back room of the last club I managed. Hell, he was dumb.

  Once the club was mine, I’d renamed it as the Electric Tunnel. It had been open for seven or eight months when Lila walked through the door, looking for a job. I had a good number of girls working the joint at the time, even during the remodel, but once I’d transformed Lila into Sienna—shit, she was different. She started out waiting tables, and then became a freaking star. Lit up the stage, electrified the whole crowd, had men panting in their seats for time with her. Eventually I had to keep her onstage and off the floor for her own safety, and let all my other gals reap the rewards of how sexually charged she got the audience.

  By the time I wandered into the Leop that day five years ago and discovered Natalie, my place was stacked with talent and decorated like a fricking jewel. It was top-of-the-line, plush, VIP all the way. I was also making big coin and had no debt because I’d won the club as well as the building it was in free and clear, and had bankrolled the renovations with money I’d saved from my years as a manager.

  Strolling through the Leop years ago, I was just under thirty and rich. Richer than I ever imagined. Now I was even richer, and I was determined to figure shit out with Natalie.

  Pushing a tiny pang of guilt over last night’s ménage to the back of my mind, I unlocked the back door to the Tunnel. But the internal debate waged on.

  She didn’t want any strings.

  Well, I have needs.

  Coffee in hand, my feet up on my desk, I pretended to stare at my boots while I went over last night’s tryst in my mind. I listened with half an ear as Mike filled me in on the ass-wipe who was stalking Sienna. The jerk actually had the nerve to watch her from across our driveway before we left on our overnight in Red Rock, and the audacity to leap onto my stage. Her freaking stage. Besides being my headliner, Sienna was also my partner, so she owned the club’s stage both literally and figuratively. Now she had a psychopath stalking her, and another man pursuing her romantically. My head ached just thinking about it.

  Mike interrupted my thoughts when he said, “Listen, boss. I got this. This yokel stalking Sienna is a nobody. He wants to put her in dirty porn films, as if she’d ever agree. I’m not gonna let him get that close.”

  I nodded my head. The man sitting across from me had been with me since he was just a kid. Mike was loyal and devoted, earning my trust long ago. He had a ton of friends thanks to his dad’s deep pockets, and even though he and his dad were estranged, Mike didn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t use those connections when he needed to.

  It was as easy as pulling a lever on a slot machine for him to get background information on the jerk bothering Sienna. Absently, I wondered if we should do the same for the guy who was pursuing her romantically. With Mr. Adult Moviemaker out of the way, I sat up and leaned across the desk, taking a more serious tone. “What about the guy she likes? Sienna thinks she’s being all covert, and I’m letting her have that play, but are you keeping an eye on her, making sure she’s protected?”

  My right-hand man stared me down as though I just asked him if he had a dick. “Yeah, I am. Don’t insult me.”

  All he got in response to his back-talk was a chin nod. We were two swinging dicks in my office, seeing who had the bigger cock.

  Mike stood up and said, “That all, Ash?”

  He seemed a little off, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. I had other shit on my mind. I made a mental note to check in with him personally when this week settled down.

  “Nah. Sit back down. I got something else to ask you. This goes no further than this office. You got me?”

  “What the hell you going off on?” Mike said, practically snarling at me as he dropped back into his chair. “You know I always got your back, keep your shit to myself.”

  Leaning a little closer, I dropped my voice and told him, “I know who Natalie’s baby daddy is, and I’m gonna find the prick. Make it right for her.”

  At this, the two hundred pounds of muscle in front of me stiffened, then started to squirm. “Um, you sure you should be wading around in that, Ash?”

  “Yeah. It’s no secret we’ve been sleeping with each other for years, and I want to do something right for the girl. Crap, I’ve known Natalie my whole life, and she’s never really had anyone looking out for her. No one. So I’m gonna do just that.”

  Mike shifted again in his seat, but stayed mum. So I demanded he spit it out, and he sighed.

  “Look, boss, I don’t think Nat wants us to make anything right. I think she likes the way things are.”

  “Nope, I’m going to find this jerk. His name is Beck. Beck Hadley. Actually, you are going to find him and I’m gonna get him to pay up.”

  Placing his fist on my desk and leaning in, Mike said forcefully, “I don’t like the idea, Ash. Not one bit. Nat doesn’t like us interfering in her personal life, and this is gonna set her off. She can be a mean bitch when she doesn’t like something, and she isn’t gonna like this, rightfully so. You gave her a good job, security, help when she
needed it back when she left the Leop. Let. It. Go. Asher.”

  I slammed my hand down. “I’m not listening to one of your lectures now, Mike. Find the ass. Beck Hadley, grew up in my old ’hood. Don’t start telling me about my rescue fantasies or shit like that. Find him and let me know when you do. Now, get out.”

  Mike left without any further argument, but I wasn’t stupid. He didn’t like the idea and would try to talk me out of it.

  Too late. As sure as my club smelled like stale alcohol, lingering secondhand smoke, and sex from last night, I was going to get Natalie what she was owed.

  Why? I didn’t know. I couldn’t really want more than the occasional sleepover—I wasn’t built for more. But maybe with some extra cash, she would have more time for me. Just a little more time and attention, that was all I wanted.

  Right?

  All of a sudden, tremendous guilt washed over me about my recent three-way. Leaning back in my chair, I ran my hands through my hair, wondering if it was too early for a shot.

  But I knew what I really needed.

  A reality check. A stiff one.

  WITH MIKE out doing some research and hopefully dropping his strange and ornery mood, I decided to take a spin through my old neighborhood. I had some shit to do for the club, so I figured while I was out, it was no biggie to ride down through my old stomping grounds. It had been a while since I’d been back, and I had no idea who was still left behind or what had become of most of the punks I knew back then.

  I started up my SUV, letting the windows down and running the AC at the same time. It might have been winter in the desert but it was still warm, and I was hot. My internal temperature was rising not just from the air, but from my hot-blooded temper boiling up inside me. Pulling out of my parking lot into traffic on my block, I thought I had everything I ever wanted. I had money, a nice house, car, bike, and of course, pussy, so why was I suddenly wanting more? And feeling so shitty about the threesome from the night before?

  My car pointed toward life as I used to know it: a crowded, run-down subdivision housing bartenders, performers, cocktail waitresses, blackjack dealers, waiters, and strippers. Those were our parents. No one worked banker’s hours and everyone had to pay the bills, so they had looked out for each other, watching each other’s kids, running errands. We were all lumped together for dinners or sleepovers at the home of whoever was in charge for the evening. A whole gang of us grew up in a heap, knowing how to push one another’s buttons, covering for each other when we were teens, hanging with the only type of people we ever knew, and making the best of it.

  With one hand on the wheel, the other hanging out the window, I slowed down and peered at the tiny place I lived as a kid. The place I called home after my mom dumped me with the neighbors. It was too much for her—working nights as a “dancer” and taking care of me during the day. She ran as fast as she could to God only knew where. I didn’t care. I’d never even tried looking for her.

  Natalie had been doing the same shit as my mom endured, for too long. She deserved some financial help, and when I found that jerk, Beck, he was going to pay up.

  As for me, I couldn’t even think about making Natalie long-term promises, not that she wanted that. Or did she? Could I do it? Did I want it?

  What I could do was help her get what was coming to her, a favor from one childhood friend to another, not from a lover to his woman. Beck was always wild for the girl, and Natalie used to flirt like heck with him. I laughed to myself as I thought back to her nonstop flirting with the boy. It used to bother me a little when we were young and somewhat more naive that she was so gaga for a guy with so few prospects, but who was I to talk. I spent a good number of my adolescent days exploring the landscape of teenage girls in our neighborhood.

  I came to a stop in front of where Beck grew up. The place was run-down, almost dilapidated. I wondered where the prick was, what he was doing. Did he get out like me?

  I got out, right?

  Well, whatever he was doing, he had a kid, and he needed to do right by him. Let Natalie make a little better of a life for herself. Even better than the Tunnel, maybe help her go back to her old dreams of doing something else, with someone who deserved her greatness by his side.

  As sentimental as I was over the woman who had only been to my home twice, I couldn’t be that dude for her. No matter how guilty I felt, I liked threesomes, anal sex, and sixty-nine too much; I was a voyeur and wasn’t giving that shit up. If I did, I had a feeling I would only end up straying later on—wouldn’t I?

  Natalie wasn’t totally vanilla. She asked for it hard, took me rough in her grip or mouth, and gave back as good as she got. But still, was that enough? Monogamy was such a foreign concept to me, but there I was thinking of Natalie, and Nat alone.

  I sped away. I’d done enough wallowing in both my past and ridiculous guilt over my ménage with Penny and Larken for one day.

  Leaving the old place filled with my best and worst memories behind, I set my eyes on the road ahead. It would be better for everyone if I focused on the life I’d built for myself, my future, and my liquor vendor where I needed to stop and check out new wine selections.

  It Was Two Women and a Russian in the Bedroom

  Natalie

  ALL I could think about was my hamsa. Why I wanted it so badly, I didn’t know, but for some reason it meant the world to me, even though I had no idea who had left it for me. It felt silly, placing so much stock in a silly superstition, but Quinn and I needed as much luck as we could get, and for some reason that necklace gave me comfort.

  As I pushed my gas pedal like I was in a drag race, my mind spun. I needed my charm. There was nothing rational flitting through my brain, simply a pure unadulterated drive to get my freaking hamsa. Just like I made fun of the women who hurried to yoga, getting themselves all harried to go relax, I was a lunatic rushing to my supposed peace.

  I didn’t even recognize myself as I parked along the sidewalk in front of Asher’s McMansion. I’d only been there twice, and here I was showing up unannounced. Ringing the bell once, twice, and then hurrying to the back when no one answered, I found the cleaning lady locking up Sienna’s carriage house in the back of the property.

  “Hey, excuse me, I’m Natalie. I left something behind at Asher’s place last week. Can you let me in?”

  She stared at me hard. “No. Mr. P. says no visitors,” she said in a broken Russian accent.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s awkward and I’m sure he said that, but I only have to get my necklace,” I said while pointing to my neck like an absolute idiot. She might have been rough around the edges, but the woman spoke English.

  Immune to my pleas, she just shook her head from side to side.

  Shit.

  Finally, I had an idea. Cocking my head toward the carriage house, I asked, “Is Sienna there? She knows me, saw me here last week. Ask her. She’ll say it’s okay.”

  Not waiting for the Russki to answer, I ran to Sienna’s door and banged on it with my fist, desperate for the blonde bombshell inside to vouch for me in my psycho state.

  When Sienna asked from behind the door, “Who’s there?” I yelled, “It’s me, Nat! Open up, I just need you real quick.”

  A few seconds later, Sienna cracked open the door and told me she was getting dressed to go.

  “No problem,” I said, “I only need you a sec. I left something at Asher’s last week when you popped over. Can you tell her it’s okay for me to go in?” I pointed at the cleaning woman impatiently waiting behind me.

  Sienna looked out from a tiny opening in the door, hiding her bathrobe, and yelled, “Gloria, it’s fine. Let Natalie in there to get her stuff.” She waved the two of us off, and the cleaning lady turned around, huffed and puffed over to the side door, and let us in.

  I motioned that I needed to go upstairs and said, “My necklace is in the bathroom, okay?”

  Gloria nodded but crossed her arms, making it clear she was going to stand at the bottom of the staircase
until I came back down. So I quickly jetted up the steep stairs, holding on to the railing, and turned toward Asher’s master suite.

  The door was closed and I rushed it like a maniac, shoving the door open with more force than I meant to. When it banged into the wall behind it, two women inside Asher’s bedroom began screaming. I chimed right in with them, and within seconds a very out-of-breath Gloria was muttering in Russian as she witnessed two extremely naked women grasping for blankets and me yelling, “What the fuck? Penny? What the hell is going on here?”

  Wrapped in the same big blanket I’d slept in less than a week ago, Penelope finally said, “Shit.”

  That was all she could come up with, but I still stood there with my arms crossed over my chest, my lungs heaving, waiting for an explanation. I didn’t own Asher. I knew he messed around, but with Penelope? She was my friend; she was friends with all of us at the club and we loved her. She must have known about the on-again off-again thing Asher and I had.

  And what the fuck? Who was the brunette?

  I pinned my eyes on the disheveled redhead I used to call occasionally to meet me for a cocktail or coffee, and tapped my foot. “Move your lips, Penny. What the hell is this?” I shrieked, waving my arms around desperately.

  She stood tall despite wearing nothing but a thin sheet falling loosely around her thin frame, and asked, “Nat, honey, what in God’s green earth are you doing here?”

  Me? She was asking me that?

  “Not that I need to explain, but I slept here last Friday and left something important behind. Clearly Asher didn’t wait long to miss me or fill his bed again.”

  Penny shook her head. “Sweetie, it’s not like that. We were just having fun. I didn’t realize things were at a different stage with you and Ash. Honestly, I wouldn’t be here if I did, but I thought…I thought you guys were only friends with benefits?”

  The Russian maid was now fully enjoying our soap opera with her head pinging back and forth between the standoff taking place right in front of her eyes.