I’d never been out with such a clean-cut man before. Sure, I’d danced for thousands of them, but typically they were imagining they were not so honorable or good when I grazed their lap with my ass or ran my tits along their face. With me, they could be the bad boy they’d always imagined being.
And there, right before my eyes, was George opening the car door for me, smiling and saying nice things like, “I’m so glad to be going out.”
No leather, ripped denim, tattoos, or boots in sight. I had no idea how to handle myself, but I pulled it together, smiled back, and tried to act as though I did stuff like this all the time.
We went to a cute little Italian joint in South Beach. We were seated on the patio, ordered drinks, and settled in our seats before the conversation really turned intimate. And by intimate, I meant when George said, “So, what do you do?
I’d already heard about his investment firm and how he’d grown it into something big from his father’s small business. So in that moment, I made up my mind to be myself, not pretend I was someone I wasn’t.
“I dance at the Peppermint Kitty.” I had no reason to make excuses. It was what I’d always done, and I had raised my son alone for a decade doing it.
To my surprise, George merely cocked one eyebrow and said, “Really?”
“Yep. I’ve been a single mom since the beginning. My parents were old-school Vegas night club workers, and I had no idea what else to do to support my baby and me. The rest is history. The Kitty brought me here to help them rebuild, and that’s what I’m doing.”
He took a long sip of his drink before responding. “Wow. You may be the most interesting woman I’ve ever been out with. Including my ex.”
Not being at all experienced with regular dating, I had no choice other than to take that as a compliment, so I sheepishly responded with, “Thanks.”
He leaned in at this point but his eyes remained focused on my face, not wandering once to my cleavage. He’d been a perfect gentleman so far, his whiskey-colored eyes trained softly on me, hanging on every word I said, not passing judgment. And yet my stupid fucking brain kept thinking of scotch when I looked into his eyes.
Every time I looked into George’s eyes, I was forced to lower my gaze and push thoughts of Asher out of my mind.
The man had walked away. Yes, I’d forced him, but he still went willingly, and that had been it. Good-bye and good luck.
Eventually my thoughts stopped wandering and my date and I drifted to a safer topic. Our kids. We laughed and joked about various stages of development and the sometimes awkward moments of being a single parent.
Then George told me, “My wife just didn’t want a family. She got pregnant by accident and shortly after Nathan was born, she wanted more fun than diapers and evenings in with takeout. She signed over custody for a lump sum, then took off. Where to, I don’t know. I knew I was picking the harder route by demanding to keep Nate, but honestly, I couldn’t stomach her attitude.”
I sat there with my hand over my mouth, trying to disguise my disgust. I’d only been able to mutter, “Oh my,” when George interrupted.
He narrowed the space between us even more and said, “Nah, don’t feel bad. It’s all worked out for the best, and I have the resources to give my son a good life. And look at where I am now—out with the most beautiful woman, who understands what I’ve been through.”
With my mouth wide open, I wasn’t able to digest his story or his compliments any further. It was all too much. There was no way I could form a response, but I didn’t need to. My gentlemanly date slipped his hand across the table and gave mine a squeeze before closing the subject for the evening.
“Enough of that. Our food will be coming soon, so let’s not ruin a great night with bad tales.”
Or thoughts of a man so opposite of you.
Eating, drinking, taking our time over dessert, I forced myself to relax in the moment, take in the rest of my first normal date, and not linger too long on what Asher might or might not be doing without me.
At the end of the evening, of course George walked me to the door. He wrapped his arm around my waist and drew me close, landing a closed-mouth kiss on my lips.
Desperate to feel something, I’d tried to lose myself in it. Pushing myself a tad closer into his warmth, searching for something so absolutely unknown to me, I might as well have been sitting in a college classroom or preparing for an accounting exam.
I hadn’t been able to feel much, but I had no intention of giving up.
QUINN YELLING good morning from the bathroom pulled me out of my fog.
As I slid out of bed and my feet hit the floor, I dug my toes into the little plush rug on the side of my bed, promising myself I would do the same with George. I was going to dig in and plant myself firmly in a normal relationship with a good man. I came here to make a new life, and I was too proud not to do it.
With that, I slipped on some yoga pants and a tank, then helped Quinn get off to school like a normal mom. All before I went to get a Brazilian bikini wax, so I could shake my smooth ass in some stranger’s face.
Truth or Dare
Asher
Las Vegas
I SLAMMED my hand against my kitchen counter and yelled in pain. Fuck, that granite was hard. Fairly certain I’d bruised my wrist, I flung open my giant built-in freezer for ice, kicked it shut, and thought about how stupid it was to have this big house just for me.
What the hell happened to me? I went from being on top of my very own world to moping around the house I once thought was a castle.
And I’d basically just walked away from Larken at the Papyrus, giving up my chance to get off. I was full of pent-up anger and wanted to continue to slam my hand into the counter until it was shattered like me.
Except I was standing in my freaking kitchen, acting like a New Age idiot, taking deep breaths trying to calm myself. All part of trying to be a better man. Like leaving Larken. I didn’t want her and her overzealous demands for intimacy.
I shouldn’t want just sex with her—and one other person—either.
Filled with self-loathing, I walked toward my home office, holding ice on my left hand. In the hallway, I paused to mouth shithead, cocksucker, motherfucker at myself in the mirror. It did little to make me feel better.
Once in my office, I sat down in my butter-soft leather chair and swiveled toward the cabinet, using the key to unlock my latest dirty secret. This was a bit worse than my intended escapade with the Papyrus girls. But I needed this.
I pulled the disks from the top shelf and laid them across my work surface.
How many would I need to watch? Would one be enough, or would it take all of them to start to take the edge off?
If anyone knew what I’d been doing the last few months, they would not only laugh themselves silly, they’d probably be tempted to turn me in to the law. I was pretty sure it wasn’t exactly legal, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck. I needed those disks like I needed air to breathe and scotch to ease my pain.
I slipped one into my computer and leaned back in the chair, its back reclining slightly, and eagerly watched as the screen came to life. The image was clear as day, and a shit-eating grin spread across my face, knowing I had top-of-the-line video surveillance at my club.
Which made it possible for me to beat off to old video of Natalie dancing, stripping, baring herself to everyone but me.
It was sick, as most of the shit I liked was, but it was all I had.
There Natalie was in all her glory, spread across the lap of a married woman seated in a deep purple club chair, her firm thighs capturing the woman’s as she lightly rubbed against her. The husband watched from the navy bench in the corner as Natalie leaned over the woman. I could tell she was blowing in the woman’s ear, making a humming vibration. It was a signature move of Nat’s, and one I knew made married women in particular go nuts. After all, I used to be her boss; I knew these things.
I dipped my right hand—the non-injured one—into m
y pants and immediately made contact with my dick. I was commando, so it didn’t take long to take hold of my engorged and ramrod cock. Squeezing its length, pulling and tugging on it, roughing the sucker up, the combination of pain and pleasure forcing a little pre-cum to drip out, I moved my focus back to my giant computer monitor.
The woman on the screen was squirming and squeezing her legs, obviously trying to maintain some decency or increase friction. Who cared? I wasn’t watching that woman. My eyes were homed in on the brunette with fire-engine-red streaks running through her hair. Those flames of red were fitting. Fucking woman set me ablaze every time I saw her. Those freaking locks that used to brush over me on my office couch were now grazing some Mrs. Happy Homemaker, and I was jealous. Seething mad. Why couldn’t I just feel her hair graze my cheek one more time?
My hand now pumped faster, up and down, working my own shaft, chasing a brand of relief that I knew would never fully come.
Natalie’s head turned a bit to the side and I caught her profile on the tape. Long lashes, high cheekbones, gorgeous shoulder— Oh God, I was going to blow. Like that, I made a mess in my pants.
I was no better than a teen sneaking off to watch porn on their dad’s laptop, whacking off into a bunch of tissues, and yet I wasn’t done. My new routine had become all too familiar. I would stay and watch the films, rising to the occasion again and again.
TO SAY I didn’t get much sleep would be an understatement, but I didn’t give a rat’s ass. Tonight was the night I was meeting up with Beck to finally set my plan in place. It was a simple plan; I didn’t even need to be a genius to come up with it. Make friends with Beck again, reminisce about old times, insert myself into his life, take mental notes on his spending and lifestyle, drop hints about Natalie during one of our upcoming walk-down-memory-lane sessions, take his temperature on where he stood, and eventually turn him over like a prize fish to my girl.
Natalie would get her cash, I would get all the credit, she would come back to Vegas, and we could try again.
My mood improved just thinking about it as I begrudgingly got out of bed and drove over to the Tunnel. As I pulled into the parking lot I checked my phone, finding a text from the man of the hour himself.
Beck: Hey dude, drinks at 7? How’s the bar by the fountain? Across from my place.
Me: Sure. Good. I may be a little late. Gotta make sure the Tunnel is set to run for a few hours without me.
Beck: OK.
I knew I’d be late; the jerk could wait for me. I would show up when I was damn good and ready.
Walking into my own little empire—well, mine and Lila’s—I ran straight into the woman herself. Lila had been my business partner and closest friend for years, but that friendship had been a little rocky since she was kidnapped. I had no idea at the time that my decision to go after Lila rather than chase after Natalie would eat at me like it had, and as a result I’d been snippy with her since she got back from the Bahamas with her man, Carson. The big ex-FBI guy was giving me shit for it, and I knew I needed to back down. Christ, I loved that girl, would do anything for her, and I needed her voice of reason, not her anger directed at me.
I must have zoned out because when I ran into Lila, the next thing I knew she was poking my shoulder and saying, “Ash, you okay?”
I waved her off. “Yeah, all good.”
“Listen, can we talk up in the office for a bit?” She tilted her head toward the stairs up to my private office. Lila was an equal partner, but the office space remained mine as she preferred her dressing room or home office.
My jeans felt tight all of a sudden, a drop of sweat trickled uncomfortably down my spine under my black shirt, and I might have started shaking in my boots. Lila was probably going to confront me about how I’d been treating her lately, and I was about to lose another person from my life. Shit.
“Sure,” I said and led her toward the stairs, already grieving over yet another lost “family” member and beating myself up because it was all my own fault.
Feeling like a kid in the principal’s office, I leaned into the edge of my desk, my boots kicked out in front of me, as she shut the door.
Lila turned around and said carefully, “Ash, this is hard and you’re not going to be happy, but just be open-minded.”
Terrified about what she was about to say, I couldn’t form words. They were all stuck in my throat, my vocal cords twisted like a traffic jam and unable to make a coherent sound, so I just nodded.
“I’m going to stop dancing.”
“What?” I yelled.
She frowned, probably mistaking my raised voice for anger when it was actually relief and excitement.
“Really?” I asked, lowering my voice. “That’s what you wanted to talk about?”
“Yes. That’s it. I don’t want you to be disappointed in me, but I think it’s for the best. Carson won’t say anything directly, but I know he wants me all for himself. Watching me on the stage isn’t easy for him. I see it on his face every night that he’s here, and I know he rakes poor Petey over the coals when he’s not here. And you and I both know Petey has been through enough.”
“Lila, babe, I got you. No need to explain. If you were my girl—in that way—I’d want you all to myself too. And, hey, you’re your own boss, so you make your own rules.” I ran my fingers through my hair, running the sweat through its waves, making note of how I’d let my looks slump a bit with you-know-who gone.
“Well, I was thinking I’d dance for another month, keep building the excitement over Petal and Sydney before my act, and slide Sadie in after me. She’s caught on like fire, and we can give her my slot when I leave.”
Lila stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a hug, not allowing me to respond. “Ash, I know you’re in pain. I love you, and I don’t care if you need me to be your scapegoat. I can take it because you saved me from a life that almost destroyed me, a husband who was brutally beating me in the name of God. You took me in, no questions asked, and gave me a job. On top of that, you showed me what real family does for one another, so believe me when I say that I will take your attitude with no questions asked. If that’s what you need, I’m going to give it to you.”
Before I could respond, Lila leaned back in my arms and gave me a sad smile. “But you’re a good man, Asher Peterson, underneath all the leather, black shirts, and those ridiculous combat boots. You’re a sweet man, and you deserve happiness more than anyone. There’s no need to suffer. You need to make things right.”
I shook my head. “Lila, babe, I know you love me, but I screwed everything up royally. I had no right to take it out on you, and I’m really sorry. The truth is, I need to figure this out on my own. ’Kay, babe?”
After giving Lila a tight hug, I let her go and looked straight into the depths of her blue eyes, which were really colored contacts, but I was one of the few who knew her little secret. “And I think it’s great you’re going to set Sadie up to take over for you. The club will definitely feel a little financial strain from you retiring, but we’ll rebound. Hey,” I said as I smoothed her hair behind her ear. “Maybe you can start taking over some management?”
She nodded. “I have some ideas, Ash. Good ones, I hope, but I’m thinking a few business courses may be good for me. Then maybe I can roll out some of my plans for you.”
I stared at my girl, taking all of her in, thinking about the scared runaway she had been and the confident woman she’d become. I’d always known that bringing Lila on board was smart, and now I was even more convinced.
“Of course. I’m behind you. Now, get,” I said, taking her by the shoulders and turning her toward the door. “Go figure out how we’re going to bring in several million bucks without you headlining.” Then I gave her a light slap on the butt to lighten the mood.
Lila paused at the door and turned, her blond hair framing that beautiful face, and said, “Don’t worry, Ash. I’m going to make it all right here. You just worry about finding your happiness.”
I gave her a tight smile. When she shut the door behind her, I turned and walked back to my desk and dropped with a sigh into my chair.
Happiness, right. Like that’ll ever fucking happen.
It’s All Smoke and Mirrors
Mike
Las Vegas, three weeks later
I LEANED over in bed, glancing at the clock before rolling back, settling my hands behind my neck, and shutting my eyes. I had five or ten more minutes before I had to get up and shower. The clock might have said six p.m., but I didn’t keep regular hours, and who was I to turn down a little afternoon delight?
I would have liked a repeat performance in the shower, but Lynx was on the phone with Natalie, and I knew for certain that Lynx hadn’t told her we were a thing. In fact, no one really knew we were doing whatever it was we were doing. There was a lot that needed to go down for us to be official, like Lynx quitting her job with that escort service that she thought she so desperately needed to survive.
I should give her an ultimatum, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I was stuck sneaking around, wrapping my dick up tight in rubbers, and hoping Lynx would quit that shit soon.
She was also the only tie left to Natalie, and I felt responsible to keep up with whatever was going on with her. Especially with where I was about to go later tonight.
I heard Lynx laughing on the phone, the sound echoing through my condo from the great room, and I smiled to myself. No doubt, she was probably listening to some goofy story about Quinn. She adored that little boy and wanted only good to come his way.
So did I, which was why I was about to head out for drinks with Beck Hadley for the second time in two weeks. Christ, if I heard that name one more time come out of Asher’s mouth, I was going to go postal. Hearing it was like swallowing poison, a burn like no other slipping from my ears, down my throat, making my belly burn with rage.
My boss was flat-out hell-bent on revenge with this guy, and I couldn’t interfere. My only option was to helplessly keep an eye on the situation. Eventually it was going to explode and I would have to watch the train wreck, but until that moment, I needed to know where Asher was and what he was planning.
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