Smoldered

by Rachel Blaufeld

  I had no one. Nobody.

  I’d pretty much resolved myself to a life of loneliness when a divorced dad asked me out last Thursday at the park. He was a good-looking, clean-cut, all-American type, and it was clear he was well-off. George being a full-time single dad to a boy a few years younger than mine meant we had a lot in common. He didn’t know what I did for a living, and I didn’t feel pressured to tell him. I brushed off the question, saying I was my own boss. Ha.

  When he asked me out, I simply told him Thursdays were the only day that worked.

  Today was the day of the dinner date, and I was hurrying through my usual day-off errands during school hours, and freaking out about going out with a man. Ironic, wasn’t it, that I made my living giving men what they thought they wanted, but outside a strip club’s four walls, I had zero idea what to do with a strange man, aside from taking my clothes off for him.

  Sighing, I lifted the bags into the back of my car—a used two-door hatchback, the only thing I could afford after using the proceeds of selling my old coupe for moving expenses and my first month’s rent. As I went about my errands, I desperately tried to keep my mind on George, my date, and not on Asher. Not on holding him tightly while riding his bike, definitely not on the glorious night I spent at his place, and far away from the memory of him walking away at daybreak.

  I pushed Asher to go when I didn’t accept his apology, but it was my only play. My heart was getting too entwined with him, and soon I wouldn’t be able to tear away. Plus, he was playing with fire with the whole Beck Hadley search-and-rescue bit. And there was the little threesome thing. Yeah, I’d known for a long time how he liked groups, but with Penny? I couldn’t accept that from either of them.

  But when he told me that I was enough for him, that he didn’t need anyone else when he was with me, I couldn’t stop myself from wavering on the inside.

  I was so close to folding, grabbing the man I’d been in love with since I was three years old, wrapping my arms tightly around him while pushing my tongue inside his hot mouth, and taking everything he was offering me. But years of telling myself it would be a mistake stopped me. That damn little angel had reappeared, the one who’d sat on my shoulder for over a decade, whispering in my ear to stay away from Asher, and it was about time I listened.

  Which left me grinding the clutch on a ten-year-old piece-of-shit car, heading home with only a few grocery bags for my lonely life with Quinn, helping some sleazy asshole build his strip club, and getting ready to go on a date with a guy named George.

  George!

  My life was a mess, and I had no one to blame but yours truly.

  With that in mind, I parked, carried in the groceries, and tried to get myself excited for dinner—and whatever might come with that.

  I hadn’t a clue.

  Get Your Game Face On

  Mike

  Las Vegas

  I WALKED into the club with a smile on my face. Rochelle was long forgotten. Sienna, who we now all called Lila in private, was back safe and sound, and falling deeper and deeper for a good dude. My job was the bomb, and I was into my new lady. A lot.

  As I strolled to the back bar to chat with a few of the girls and hear the scoop on the bachelor parties hitting up the Tunnel that night, I caught Asher stomping up the stairs to his office. He wasn’t that moody every day, but close. He put on a happy face for the dancers and bartenders, but when it came to Petey, Sienna, and especially me, his mood came in varying shades of pissy.

  Petey had lied. Sienna was his scapegoat, even though it wasn’t her fault that she was kidnapped and had diverted Asher. And me? Well, I refused to find Beck Hadley. I had my reasons, and the fact that I wouldn’t share them aggravated the boss man even more. So the fuck what. Like I said, I had my reasons. I could handle Asher. We were like an old married couple: we had differences, ups and downs, but in the end, it turned out all good.

  Looking over to the stage, I caught Sadie dancing. She was quickly becoming a star, following in Sienna and Petal’s footsteps. She would probably be taking over for our very own Sienna in no time. There was no way Carson was going to wait much longer for his woman to give up the stage. I got it. Was struggling with a bit of a similar issue in my latest relationship.

  Completely lost in thought, I absently followed Sadie’s legs wrapped around the pole and her eyes trained on the crowd, glimmering of sex and lust, tantalizing everyone present. I watched carefully to see who she was setting her gaze on for the evening—to take their money. I was so preoccupied, I didn’t notice Asher had come up behind me and was standing right next to me.

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  I noticed he had his club face on, masking the frustration I knew all too well was barely underneath the surface. He might look tough in boots and ratty jeans with a designer dress shirt, but the stubborn jerk was falling apart.

  “Not much. Keeping an eye on Sadie. Crowd’s been eating her up lately, and I don’t want her to get in a situation.”

  At this, Asher perked up and turned toward me. When it came to his club, he ran a tight ship. “Is that so? What do you think?”

  “I got it. She’s just attracting a lot of attention, drawing a huge crowd, lots of jerk-offs asking for her. I’m thinking of putting Billy on her exclusively. He’s new, but after a few mix-ups, he’s got a handle on this job. Kid doesn’t drink, smoke, or really do anything. Pretty sure he’d do a pretty decent job of being her eyes and ears.”

  Asher nodded. “I see. Yeah, that sounds good. Petey still taking good care of Lila and Petal? He okay handling both of them?”

  I saw him give a tiny flinch. He was holding back; I knew damn well he wanted to say something about Petey letting a few things slide with Natalie, but he bit his tongue.

  “Pete’s good,” I told him. “Carson trusts him with Lila. And Petal is practically her sister and shadow, so it makes sense.”

  Glancing back to the stage, doing another check on Sadie, I traced her sightline to a small group of overdressed suits in the back corner, sitting along the navy velour banquette. Shit. I decided it was time to send Billy to sniff out the wolves.

  Getting ready to part ways with Asher, I turned and he caught my shoulder.

  “We’re not done,” he said.

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Okay, what else, Ash? I’m all ears. You know it.”

  “I found him. Beck. Beck Hadley, the fucking prick who knocked her up.”

  He rarely said her name out loud. Her being Natalie.

  I steadied my tone, tried to make it sound casual when I said, “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yep. Fucker lives right next door to Chey and her husband. Remember Chey?”

  “Of course. Natalie’s old dressing room partner. Married the lawyer from Reno.”

  “The one and only. Well, her hubby set up shop here. Got some big contract with that online shoe gig in town, so they bought a joint in the high-rise on the opposite side of the Strip than you. I ran into them a few days ago and when they invited me over for a drink, guess who was coming out of the place next door as I was leaving? Bingo. Beck Hadley.”

  “That’s pretty fucking lucky for you.” I had no idea what else to say. Again, I had my reasons.

  Asher grinned, practically bouncing on his toes as he went on. “I played it all cool. Acted like I couldn’t have been fucking happier to see the dude. We’re gonna have drinks tomorrow.”

  “Is that so? What’s your plan?”

  “Oh, I’m gonna get real close with him, old friends and shit. I’ll draw the sucker in and then, boom, turn him over to the she-wolf.”

  All of a sudden, I felt guilty. I might have had my reasons for keeping my mouth shut, but Asher was my man. We weren’t blood, but that didn’t matter. I needed to protect him from some ugly shit.

  I said carefully, “Listen, don’t do anything rash. Keep me in the loop, and maybe I’ll meet up with you two sometime. I got your back.”

  “Oh, now you do?” He raised an eyebrow.

>   “Yeah. Of course I do, bro.” I slapped him on the back and ran off to task Billy with his new assignment.

  I needed to call my girl, Lynx. She was just as concerned over this Beck Hadley deal as I was, and we’d forged a behind-the-scenes bond to protect Natalie.

  Unfortunately, in order to do that, I would end up betraying someone else.

  Fuck.

  Stop Playing in That Cage

  Asher

  AS I turned my bike onto the Strip, I felt like King fucking Kong beating his chest on top of the Empire State Building.

  I’d never felt such a natural high as I did when I discovered Beck Hadley right under my very own nose, living the life in a big rich-boy’s condo. It might have felt better than a few lines of coke when I accidentally stumbled on his sorry ass.

  On top of the world.

  Despite the darkness, I wore my Aviators to block the wind and conceal the pain in my eyes. I didn’t talk to anyone about how I was pining for Natalie, but sadly, it was all I did. My insides were constantly churning with anger, regret at lost chances, and an overwhelming sense of powerlessness.

  Now a golden ticket was in my hands, giving me something to lure Natalie back.

  That was for later because at the moment, I was driving faster than I should be to the Strip, as fast as I could to Larken and her little cage-dancing gig. Even I could recognize the irony, agonizing over one girl while on my way to fuck another, but there was only so much I could beat off. I needed some pleasure and pain all rolled up into one—or two.

  There was also the little fact that nowadays I could only get it up by myself to thoughts of Natalie. I could run through my entire mental Rolodex of threesomes, and it wasn’t until I gave my mind free rein to think of her that wood actually happened.

  And I really hated thinking about her. I wasn’t some spineless prick who would walk away from a woman who was hurting, who would allow a girl to intentionally push me to leave, or who would sleep with a friend of the girl I was fucking.

  Oh wait; I was all of those. Which was why I hated dwelling on Natalie. It made me feel small.

  But now I was going to have Beck and his luxury condo by the balls, and that would make me insignificant no more.

  The lights of the Strip lit my way, shining down on my bike, reflecting off the metal, and marking the road to release. Short-lived, but relief nonetheless. I fooled myself into thinking it was okay. Natalie was off in Florida; I knew this much. She was living in a decent apartment, worked for a shit club, and was making good money building some asshole’s business.

  What I didn’t know was how much she could be making if she was in a different club, and what the fuck she was doing in the back rooms. Carson had a PI buddy look into the basics, but he wouldn’t let me send someone in the back room of the Peppermint Kitty, so the thought of whatever Natalie might or might not be doing back there was eating me alive.

  Slowing my speed, I turned into the valet for Papyrus, the hot night club of the moment on the Strip, kicked the stand down, and threw my keys at my regular guy. I made my way to the front of the line, where the bouncer let me in to the sounds of many moans and complaints from others patiently waiting their turn.

  Too bad. I was Asher Peterson, and the bouncers all ended up at my club at the end of the night. Mostly because at my club, the girls took their shirts off, rubbed themselves all over the horndogs, and that was way fucking better than a little risqué dancing in a cage.

  Heading right for my usual bar, I grabbed a stool as I nodded toward Chico, my regular bartender who knew my drink. With a frown, I looked up at the ridiculously dumb palm tree hanging upside down from the ceiling over the cage that housed a scantily-clad Larken, and realized just how regular this had become.

  This being me seeking out Larken and Jewel—not Penny—for a few hours of pressure release. Penny and I weren’t really speaking, each of us playing the blame game. It didn’t really matter.

  So now I was pummeling Larken with regularity, and she had introduced this other little ginger, Jewel, to the mix. The tiny little redhead with crystal-blue eyes like gemstones was about as wide-eyed and bushy-tailed as they came. New to Vegas, fresh out of school, she wanted a taste of the wild life, and I was happy to give it to her.

  I was the absolute worst kind of prick, but I had no other way of dealing with the stress. Pussy was the best stress reliever I knew, and I needed to be balls deep in it to let the pain slide out of me.

  Larken looked down from the cage and winked while giving me a salacious smile. I didn’t even get a chubby, just turned to Chico and said thanks before tipping back my scotch on the rocks. It burned, chasing away my remorse, making me numb, taking my mind away from Miami. Briefly, anyway.

  I signaled for another before asking Chico how business had been.

  “Been steady, but rumor has it there’s another big hotel casino going up with more shit to do, if that’s possible. They plan to have an ‘epic club’ with waterfalls and pools and shit like that,” he answered, using air quotes.

  “Well, for me,” I said, “the more hotels, the more people there are to come to my place. Nine out of ten suckers end up pulling one after being at my joint.” I let myself laugh.

  Chico started to ramble on about the theme of the new hotel, and I thought to myself I might even like chatting with the snarky bartender better than watching Larken. I really was reaching a new all-time low.

  Sipping my second scotch, still not willing to abandon my plans for later in the evening, I turned my thoughts to the girl in the cage. She was getting a bit attached to me. I’d always been straight up with Larken, and even with being there the day all the shit went down with Natalie, she seemed to be set on catching me on the rebound.

  I was trying to keep the boundaries, leave some space, but at the end of the day, I was a hard-up male desperate for the attention of a few females because two of the only three I’d ever cared about had up and left me. First my mom, and now Natalie. Go figure. Thank fuck I still had Lila.

  Jamming myself out of my therapeutic bullshit, which I picked up thanks to Mike, I looked at my watch. One o’clock in the morning, and it was time for my evening’s snack to come down from her post. Thank fuck.

  I fist-bumped Chico before leaving a big tip and roamed to the back of Papyrus to meet Larken. I hoped like hell she didn’t want to stay for a drink.

  She did.

  And I was a sucker for what we were hopefully about to go do, so I gave in. I gulped down a bottle of water while watching Larken sit pretty in painted-on electric-blue leather pants and a tight white halter that left nothing to the imagination. In no hurry, she sipped her Cosmo, obviously delaying my gratification on purpose. We made small talk until the bitch cut to the chase.

  Twisting her little toothpick stuffed with fruit around her glass, she said, “Ash, I don’t know if I want to ask Jewel to meet us tonight.”

  “Why the fuck not?” I ground out.

  “Because.”

  “Don’t act like a schoolgirl, Lark. Speak up.”

  Stilling her toothpick, she looked straight at me. “Because I think I like you. Like-like you more than what we currently have. That’s why.”

  I murmured, “Shit,” to myself before taking her hand, leaning in toward her face, and whispering in her ear, “I can’t do that, sweetheart.” My lips grazed her earlobe, stopping briefly to suck on it, enticing her to give up her current pursuit of more with me, and just go back home to bed with Jewel and me.

  She shook her head. “No. I deserve more. I’ve been with you since that crazy bitch raced through your house, calling me names and pointing out your faults.”

  I was done with trying to convince Larken to come back with me. It wasn’t worth it. “Don’t go there. And don’t ever call Natalie a crazy bitch. That was all me. It’s still all me, acting stupid, when I know she deserves better. I guess you’re off the hook. You don’t have to go home with me and Jewel tonight or any night because you and me—we’re
done.”

  She sat there with a look of surprise on her face, her lips forming an O, her brow crinkled. “But…?”

  “No buts, Lark. This is good-bye. Be good, darling,” I said before I patted her on the back and left the Papyrus for good.

  I was getting too old for this shit.

  It’s Like Riding a Bike

  Natalie

  Miami

  I LAY in bed, thinking about my date the night before. It was early morning, and I was enjoying some peace and quiet before Quinn got up for school. Trying not to think about being tired later when I had to go to work and stay until twenty hours from now, I reflected on my first time ever going out on a date like a normal woman. It wasn’t like I didn’t think I was normal, I just had never spent much time with anyone other than nightclub, strip club, or casino people, the kind of people I was raised by. It was incredibly hard to break away, but I did it.

  Even if I still worked in the industry, I was now a normal woman after the night before. I was moving on. I lay back on my pillow, sank back into my double mattress, pulled my soft quilt up to my chin, and closed my eyes…

  GEORGE HAD rung the bell at precisely seven p.m. like he’d promised. My new sitter, Violet, had already situated Quinn with a game and some cookies, so all I had to do was give him a quick peck on the forehead, grab my jacket, and head right out the door. The truth was I’d done that intentionally. There had been no reason to let George see a slice of my real life yet.

  As we’d walked to the car—not a bike or a monster SUV—I’d sneaked a long look at the man taking me out. He’d looked calm and confident in designer jeans, a white button-down with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, and loafers. Loafers.