by Faith Starr
“You don’t have to worry about trying to stand out. You caught my attention the first night you walked into the club.” He raised his brow flirtatiously.
He killed me with the compliments. It was like being with my very own motivational speaker.
“Any plan B?”
“I could possibly do my internship at the women’s clinic; although they’ve stated many times they don’t usually offer full-time internships.”
“Do you want to remain in town after you finish with your studies?”
“I’d like to.”
“That’s good to know.”
It is?
Comments like the one he made drove me crazy. As if we had a future together. Yeah, right. I could only imagine bringing him home to meet my parents and telling them what he did for a living.
“Tell me more about you.” I had dominated the conversation long enough. I wanted some info about him now.
“What would you like to know?”
“For starters, how did you get into the club business?”
“Cut right to the chase, why don’t you?”
“Why beat around the bush?”
“I couldn’t agree more. I earned my MBA because I love doing business. When the opportunity presented itself to open the club with my brothers, I was all for the challenge, especially building something from the ground up. In addition to owning and operating Hilltops, we also assist in managing my uncle’s company.”
“So you’re a businessman by trade. Did you engage in the club’s lifestyle prior to opening it?” Since he was being so open and honest, I was going to dig as far as he would allow.
14
Noah
“Derek and I both dabbled a bit during our college years, but I could go either way.” She nodded in acknowledgment. I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad, but I continued anyway. “My priority has always been to succeed in whatever I set my mind to. Whereas Derek turned his fascination with the lifestyle into a career built around it, my focus has been more about making Hilltops the success it is.”
“I can relate to that type of ambition.”
“I see that in you. I think you and I are a lot more alike than you’d like to believe.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Sounds good to me. It means you’re agreeing to give it some time to determine.” I had to bait her. It was fun to see her reactions to my comments.
The waiter brought our dishes before she had a chance to respond. She lifted her fork and knife, carefully cutting her lasagna into horizontal and vertical lines, making perfect little squares. It was rather amusing to watch. She caught me staring.
“What? I always eat it this way.” She confessed with a half-smile.
Not me. I cut mine up haphazardly. She watched in horror as though I’d just cut open a human body.
“And this is how I eat mine.” I busted her chops. She was so fucking adorable. “I have to work this weekend, but I would like you to come by the club.” I shoved a forkful in my mouth. Fuck! It was hot. I grabbed my water and swallowed a gulp full.
“Why’s that? I already told you I’m not interested in sexual exhibitionism or anything related to it.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin, once again on the defensive.
“I’m not asking you to come and play.” I certainly hoped by this time she would know that about me.
“Well, I don’t think I can gather much information for my dissertation by standing outside the fantasy suites.”
She didn’t realize her naivety only made me want her more. “I wasn’t asking you to come for research purposes either, although I’d be more than happy to show you a thing or two in a fantasy suite.”
“You’re quite the comedian.” She smiled and took a bite of her lasagna, capturing a straggling piece of cheese hanging out of her mouth with her tongue.
Mitch fucking Darla… Mitch fucking Darla…
Why wasn’t it working this time?
“In all seriousness, I thought maybe you’d like to come by and hang out for a while. I’m pretty much free to roam while the rooms are occupied.” Fuck. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d asked a girl to hang out with me.
“Is this your idea of asking me out on a date?” Her eyes twinkled in amusement. Mine didn’t. I wanted a fucking answer.
“Oh no. When we go out on a proper date, you’ll know.”
“And how is it you’re so confident I’ll even agree to one?”
“I have you here eating dinner with me right now, don’t I?”
“This was supposed to be coffee, and it’s not a date.”
“Well, if you’d taken proper care of yourself today, we would’ve been drinking coffee instead of sitting here, but I’m rather enjoying both the company and the meal.”
“So you’re asking me to come by and hang out with you while you monitor the fantasy suite area?”
I believe that’s what I’d said. Now please answer the fucking question. The suspense of what her reply would be was killing me. My knee bounced up and down underneath the table as a result. Hopefully, my sudden movements weren’t shaking it.
“Pretty much.”
“I’ll let you know.”
Really, she was going to play that card now?
“Playing hard to get is only enticing me.”
“Then you better start doing some deep breathing exercises and learn patience. Ugh. I’m so full.” She sat back in her chair and rubbed her stomach. “It’s a good thing my pants have an elastic waistband. This meal was fantastic. Thank you so much for introducing me to this wonderful restaurant.”
“The company was great too.”
Please answer my question. I rubbed my hands together, exhaling the rapidly building anticipation.
“Yes, it was.” She had that little spark in her eyes again.
It wasn’t exactly the reply I wanted, but it was encouraging to know our feelings were shared.
“You have a pretty smile.”
“It’s getting late. We better head back. I still need to get my car.”
Huh? What did I do wrong? Why the sudden rush?
With the bill taken care of, I escorted her to the valet. We drove back to the university in silence, both of us listening to the tunes playing on the radio. But my mind still wondered what the hell I had done or said wrong.
Why isn’t she speaking?
Her arm rested on the console between us. I wanted to take her hand in mine but hesitated in fear she’d pull it away. Instead I played with a piece of loose skin next to my thumb nail. It gave my free hand something useful to do.
Luckily, there was a vacant spot next to hers when we pulled in to the parking lot. I walked around the car to assist her out.
“I look forward to seeing you at the club this weekend. Saturday night’s better for me. Fridays are usually a bit more hectic. Members love to come in after a long week and party hard. No pun intended.” Maybe the assumption technique would work.
“I didn’t agree to come yet.”
Then again, maybe not.
“You will.” I desperately hoped so.
“What makes you so sure?” Her lips twisted up in a half smile.
I couldn’t take it anymore. My dick could only behave for so long. My poor impulse control and I pushed her against the car, tasting those succulent lips again. Something I couldn’t stop thinking about. Her mouth voluntarily welcomed my tongue. I could only imagine what else it could do to her luscious body.
“Because I know you feel it too.”
She blinked several times and stared into my eyes, her breaths jagged between her slightly parted lips. That was all the reassurance I needed to know she would be there on Saturday night.
I backed away and took her hand in mine, moving with more pep in my stride. I made sure she got in her car safely, her wittiness taking a hike, replaced with desire. Her eyes had hunger in them, and I knew exactly how to feed it. This woman had no clue how sexy she was. I intended to make that co
ncept known to her.
She looked up at me, whispering her goodbye, her lips swollen, begging for more.
It became mandatory for me to have one more taste of her to hold me over until the weekend. I bent over and tilted her chin upward so I could kiss her again. To my surprise, she fisted my hair. To her surprise, I planted a gentle kiss on her lips to find her almost panting when I pulled away. “Good night, Jordin.”
It took all the self-control I had to walk away from her. My dick ached, wanting to blow, but it wasn’t something I couldn’t take care of later.
During my drive back to the club, I felt pumped that her body had responded to me in the way I’d anticipated.
My brothers and I had agreed to try out a new bouncer. I wanted to see for myself if the guy was as competent in real life as he was on paper.
Derek and I had met with Mitch earlier in the day. The man begged us to give him another chance, telling us he didn’t know what had come over him. That he and Darla had an argument prior to work and he was at his wits end with her. He asked for our forgiveness and promised it wouldn’t happen again. Of course we accepted his apology. After all, we were family, but one more fuck-up and he was out.
Tasha was sitting at her desk doing paperwork when I arrived.
“What’re you doing you doing here? I thought you were done for the day.” She put her palm up in question.
“I wanted to go over some paperwork with Claude, the new guy. Did you complete his file?”
She nodded affirmatively. “It’s on your desk. I put the original copy of the background check in there as well even though you already have a faxed copy.”
“Thanks.”
“No worries. Have a good evening. I’m all done for the day.” She closed the folder she’d been working on and opened the bottom drawer in her desk to retrieve her purse, slinging it over her shoulder before standing up and pushing in her chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweet thing.” She walked past me, gently squeezing my shoulder on her way to the exit.
It was so good to have Tasha on our team. My brothers and I first met her when she came to the club as a sub requesting fantasy play. Derek and I happened to be the two she partied with. The chemistry was so great between the three of us we ended up offering her a job. It was a little awkward at first, but once we became settled into our new roles, we were fine. Three years later, things were still going strong. The only difference in our relationship was we no longer engaged in play together and Derek, Mitch, and I were now her employers. But that didn’t stop her from taking full advantage of her employee benefits.
With everything quiet in the main area, I went inside my office and closed the door. I sat at my desk and jiggled the mouse, bringing my computer to life. I watched the surveillance cameras to see Claude in action. I had to hand it to the guy. He did an excellent job of interacting with the members. He definitely got my seal of approval.
Feeling satisfied, I switched to the fantasy suite wing to view Mitch. He did me proud in his dress slacks and button-down, doing his thing. Maybe he’d needed our little threat to kick his ass back into gear.
Confident with the floors, I sorted through new member applications. I had a handful of prospective members to interview the following day, which was always a plus.
A gentle knock on my door had me glancing over at it. It opened before I even had a chance to respond.
“Hey stranger.” Evie stood in the doorway, waiting for an invite to enter.
“Hi, Ev.” I didn’t offer one.
“I wasn’t expecting to find you here, but thought I’d check anyway. Since you are, would you like me to come upstairs with you a bit later after my shift ends?” She tapped her hand on the entryway.
“Sorry, Ev, I’m working. Tonight isn’t good for me.” I gestured at the papers on my desk.
“It hasn’t been a good week for you either. What’s up?” She took my reply as a sign we were going to engage in a lengthy conversation. She walked in and sat on Derek’s usual chair.
“Nothing’s up. I don’t owe you any explanations.” I stared directly at her while speaking to make sure my point came across loud and clear.
“I know. It’s just that I’ve made myself more than readily available to you, and you seem somewhat indifferent. I’m curious as to why.”
“I’ve been busy working. That’s what I do here.” I didn’t have to defend my actions to her or anybody else, for that matter.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” She obviously felt the need to defend hers to me. She sat forward, both feet on the floor, and snatched the sand timer hourglass off my desk, turning it upside down and watching as the blue sand began to pour into the bottom container.
She’d better not break it. It had been a gift from my Aunt Jenny.
“Evie, we have a working relationship with benefits.”
“It’s that girl from the other night, isn’t it?” She flipped the hourglass over again, this time with frustration fueling her.
Christ, back on the merry-go-round. “Listen, Ev, we’ve already discussed and agreed upon the boundaries of our relationship. If you can’t handle the way things are between us, then they’ll stop, effective immediately.”
“What the fuck, Noah?” She slammed the sand timer on my desk.
Watch it!
I took hold of it to inspect it. It seemed intact. I swung my chair around and placed the fragile piece on the credenza behind my desk so nobody else would touch it. My aunt had brought it for me from Italy. It was ornate and had two angels supporting the sand timer. When she presented it to me she told me the angels would always watch over me. Fortunately, it had a cushioned bottom so Evie hadn’t chipped or scratched it.
In addition to feeling a bit peeved at the disrespect she had shown to one of my personal belongings, I was also annoyed I now had to deal with her whole fucking attitude thing.
She stood in front of my desk, her hand on her hip, a questioning gesture that looked more to me like she was acting out the Little Teapot song. I almost put up my hand so she could talk to it instead, but I knew that wouldn’t fly. It would only make the situation worse, although it would be rather comical. I had to hide my smile.
“I think we’re done with this conversation for the time being.”
“Fuck you.”
What a perfect ending to her little display.
“Hey, when we’re in this club, I’m your boss. I wouldn’t speak to an employee that way nor will you speak to me that way. Are we clear about that?” I now stood as well. “I didn’t hear a reply. Are we clear?”
“Yes. You know I need this job.” She immediately backed down, adjusting her waistband and straightening her shirt.
“Then do it in a professional manner.” I moved around the desk and stopped in front of her. “I don’t want to see you in my office again unless it pertains to the club. Got it?” This conversation would not go into syndication and become a rerun. I had reached my limit.
“Please don’t do this, Noah. I’m sorry.”
She extended her hand out toward me. I stopped it midair. “Good night, Evie.”
She dropped it down by her side and turned around, her head slumped low as she walked to the door and left. Once she was out of sight, I closed and locked it. I didn’t need these constant fucking arguments. The only thing I needed from her was to provide good service to our members. Did she suck good cock? Yes. But right now the only woman I could even think about sucking my cock was Jordin Turner, which pissed me off to no end. I didn’t like women getting to me the way she was.
15
Jordin
“So where did he take you?”
Casey sounded so happy for me during our phone call on my drive home. It made me feel good.
“To dinner.” I breathed deeply to prepare myself for the inevitable questions that were about to come flying.
“Like on a date?”
Good question. One I wasn’t sure the answer of.
“I
wouldn’t necessarily call it a date.”
“Did he drive?”
“Yeah.”
“Did he pay?”
“Fine, Cas. Call it what you will.” She was always one to point out the obvious.
“When are you going to see him again?”
“He wants me to hang out with him at the club on Saturday night.”
“Ooh. That sounds like it could be fun.” A playful and sexual tone filled her words. “Did you agree?” Hope now took its place.
“I told him I would think about it.”
“What’s there to think about? Do you have any other plans for Saturday night?”
Make me feel bad, why don’t you?
“No. I wanted to try and catch up on some work this weekend. I’m a little behind.”
“You know what they say about all work and no play? Go to the club. Live a little. Please, I beg of you. He’s so freaking gorgeous.”
Sometimes she made me feel so pathetic about my boring existence. I sighed, making a right turn on red.
“He is. Isn’t he?” A girlish giggle escaped me. “What’re your plans for the weekend?”
“Rich and I are going out to dinner on Friday night.”
“I think we have role reversal. You should be the one hanging out at a sex club. Not me.”
“You picked the topic, love. There must be a subconscious reason for it.”
Hmm. Maybe there was one. Only time would tell, especially if I kept hanging out with Noah Dorian.
“You know I only chose the topic because of my interest in working with abused women.”
“And what’ve you discovered so far?”
Casey had disagreed with me on my original hypothesis from day one.
“That the lifestyle isn’t abusive, but it still seems so punitive. I don’t know.”
“That’s why it’s called BDSM. Some people like things a bit rough in the bedroom. And if the people involved agree to that kind of fun, I don’t see a problem with it.”