Stay A Little Longer (Kadia Club Nights Book 2)

by Nicole York

  She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman Cole had ever laid eyes on.

  Cameron wore a silky black dress with thin spaghetti straps and a short hemline. The fabric had a pretty sheen to it that caught the lights every time she moved. It was simple and classic, and she’d paired it with a strappy pair of black heels. Her legs, the first things Cole had noticed about her, were long, lean, and powerful looking. She worked for her body. That much, he could tell.

  She took care of her body, too. Her nails were freshly painted the same ruby-red shade as her lips. Her fair skin was taut and milky looking, just the kind of skin Cole ached to run his hands and lips over. She had a thin waist and a round ass and perfect tits that were perky as hell beneath the thin silk fabric. He doubted she was even wearing a bra.

  “You’re still staring,” Dean said, breaking Cole’s reverie.

  “I’m trying to figure out what a girl like her is doing in a place like Kadia,” Cole lied.

  “Maybe she’s looking for a dude to fuck her the way her fancy rich boyfriends won’t.”

  Cole frowned.

  Dean chuckled. “I don’t know, man. Why not just go ask her?”

  “I’m on the clock.”

  “You and I have both seen Marcus and Zak get more pussy at this job than the likes of you and I have ever had in our lives. Go talk to the girl. Or her friend. Hell, I don’t give a damn. Just get away from my bar and do something, man. I’m begging you.”

  Cole left Dean at the bar as the club grew busier. He made another round and scoped out the dark places of the club where people liked to sneak in a bump or two. He caught two women outside the women’s bathroom snorting lines off the backs of their hands and escorted them out. He also rounded up a few men who were too intoxicated and giving the dancers a hard time and kicked them out, too.

  All the while, his attention was continuously drawn to Cameron White.

  She remained on the second floor for a little while, but as the night wore on, she and her friend returned to the first level, where they made their way onto the dance floor.

  Cameron danced like a viper. She was all seduction and venom, with dark eyes and a slinky dress and curves that went on for days. She rolled her body and hips in a way that made Cole’s pants feel a little tight and caught the attention of every man in the damn place.

  As he took a moment to watch her dance beneath the ever-changing strobing lights, he realized that for the first time in a while his thoughts weren’t consumed by his past mistakes. He didn’t think about his failed marriage or the way his wife had so callously walked away from him the day everything fell apart. He didn’t think about his failed police career or security company. He didn’t think about Adam Cooper and the bullet that had struck the only guy who was willing to take a chance on Cole and pull him up out of a dark hole.

  Cole tilted his head back and peered up at the third-floor balcony where he spotted Marcus lingering at the top of the stairs, checking on Keesha down below. She didn’t notice her man’s eyes on her as she poured drinks, smiled at those who tipped her well, and bellowed for the next in line to step up and put in their order.

  Marcus turned his back on the lower levels and returned to business upstairs. Zak and Marcus had been up there all night discussing business as usual. Cole wondered if he’d ever be one of the guys who was trusted enough to run in those circles. He’d been invited into the tight inner circle when Demetri agreed to let him help Marcus bring down Cooper, but after that all went to Hell in a handbasket, things were different.

  Cole found himself back on the outside.

  Maybe that’s where you belong, he thought as he sought out Cameron again. Maybe you should be kept at arm’s length so you don’t fuck anything else up.

  Cameron and her friend had stopped dancing. Two men in suits had approached them on the dance floor with drinks in their hands, duplicates of the ones the women were already drinking, and were trying to offer them to the women.

  The shorter woman took hers, but Cameron didn’t seem interested at all.

  Cole couldn’t hear any of the words being exchanged but Cameron shook her head defiantly. Her silky black hair caught the light and fell over her shoulder, veiling her face from him. But he could tell by her body language that she wanted to be left alone.

  Cameron had taken a step back from the two men, who weren’t picking up on the vibes. One of them reached out to touch a hand to her waist and Cameron pulled back even farther. The other woman, the shorter one, flashed a quick look in Cameron’s direction when Cameron shoved her drink back into the man’s hand and shooed him off the dance floor with a dismissive flick of her wrist.

  He didn’t seem to like that much.

  He invaded her personal space even more. Cameron didn’t back down this time. She remained rooted to the spot, glaring up at him like she was ready to throw fists, and he loomed over her, shoulders swelling with anger as the girl he’d tried to charm out of her dress made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him.

  Cole seized his opportunity and marched across the dance floor.

  As he closed the distance between him and Miss White, the situation escalated. The businessman grabbed hold of Cameron’s elbow. She cursed at him. He pulled her close and she dropped her drink.

  Glass shattered between their feet.

  Cole grabbed hold of the businessman by the shoulder and jerked him backward. The businessman stumbled but caught himself and rounded on Cole with furious eyes narrowed to slits. When he realized the one who grabbed him was a Kadia bodyguard, his temper softened a bit and he jerked hard on the lapel of his suit jacket, which was stained from Cameron’s dropped drink.

  “Is there a problem here?” Cole asked.

  “No problem,” the businessman said. “Just getting acquainted with these lovely ladies.”

  His friend, a stockier and overall rounder man, nodded his agreed sentiments.

  “You can go,” the businessman said. “Everything is under control here.”

  Cole’s gaze slid to Cameron. “Is everything under control here, miss?”

  Cameron’s friend looked at her feet.

  But Cameron lifted her chin and spoke with confidence. “No, everything is not under control. I would like for these two men to stop bothering my friend and me. We came out to have fun, not be harassed by fools with tiny-dick energy.”

  Cameron’s friend shrank back.

  Cole nodded politely. “That can be arranged.” It took everything in his power not to laugh at her jab, especially when he turned back to the businessman who looked like she’d just kicked him in said tiny dick. Cole gestured at the front doors. “I’m going to ask you to leave, gentlemen.”

  The stockier of the two men growled. “We ain’t bothering the ladies. We brought them drinks is all. They’re stuck up bitches, Charlie. Let’s just leave ‘em. We can go someplace else.”

  Charlie, the tall one who’d touched Cameron’s waist and grabbed her elbow, scrunched up his nose in distaste. “You’re right, Leo. Who needs them? Coming out to clubs dressed like that and they don’t want our attention? Give me a fucking break. Whores, the pair of you, I say.”

  Cole had heard enough. Kadia did not need the business of such degenerates.

  Cole cracked his knuckles. “I suggest you stop talking and start walking.”

  The two men laughed.

  Cameron stepped up beside Cole and put a hand on her hip. He did his best to keep his eyes forward as she looked the men up and down and scoffed. “Do you boys seriously not know who I am?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

  The men scowled at her.

  “I’m Cameron White,” she purred seductively. “I don’t waste my time on little grains of sand like you.” She crossed her arms under her breasts and looked at Cole out of the corner of her dark brown eyes. “I’d say handle with care, but…”

  Cole flashed her a smile. “I don’t get paid enough to be gentle with the garbage.”

  Came
ron’s lips curled in a wicked smile. “Good boy.”

  Cole didn’t mind her somewhat demeaning and abrasive attitude. She was a smoke show after all, and she was one of the wealthiest women in the city. If she wanted to call him boy and scratch him behind the ears? He’d let her.

  Cole moved forward. The two men recoiled. He nodded past them at the emergency exit. “That way. Walk.”

  They hesitated, so Cole grabbed them both by the collars of their jackets, spun them around, and marched them toward the long dark hall so he could throw them into the alley. They tried to wriggle free but Cole held fast. When the stocky one twisted and tried to escape, Cole drove a knee up into his gut and adjusted his grip to hold the back of his neck.

  “Try that again and I’ll aim a little lower down,” Cole growled.

  11

  Cameron

  Cameron gazed after the broad-shouldered, blond-haired, blue-eyed god who’d just spared her and Pauline from their intolerably rude company.

  “Who was that?” Her heart fluttered in her chest like she’d just met Brad Pitt, who she had in fact met when she accompanied another A-list celebrity as their date on a red-carpet event a couple of years ago. In her world, it was all about who she knew, and Cameron White knew a lot of people, but she didn’t know the man who disappeared out the side exit with his fists gripping the back of the businessmen’s suit jackets so tightly she could see the tendons flexing in the back of his hands.

  “Not sure,” Pauline said with a dismissive shrug. “Kadia takes that kind of stuff seriously though. They don’t want people bothering their guests. Least of all you, I’m sure.”

  “Nonsense. He’d have helped anyone being harassed.”

  Pauline arched a dark eyebrow as she pursed her lips around the straw of her drink. “Oh? You and mystery bodyguard are that well acquainted just from that exchange?”

  Cameron prickled under her friend’s criticism. “He was charming.”

  “He was doing his job. I think what you mean to say is he was hot. Very, very hot.”

  “Yes, that too.”

  Was Pauline ever right. The bodyguard was Cameron’s type to a tee: tall, powerful, chiseled features, eyes the color of the ocean, and a scowl that could make men cringe and women’s panties drop.

  “I want to find out his name,” Cameron said.

  Pauline laughed lightly and rolled her eyes. “And here I thought we might be able to meet a normal guy at the club for you to dance with, maybe make out with, and then we’d head home with our flirtatious desires met and you could face the week ahead of you. But no, you have to go for one of the unattainable guys.”

  Cameron scoffed. Unattainable? Nobody was unattainable for her. She could have anyone she wanted.

  And she wanted the name of their rescuer.

  She watched as the bodyguard returned through the emergency exit some ten minutes later and wondered what had taken him so long. Had he roughed the businessmen up? Had he given them a lecture and warned them never to come back? Maybe he’d checked their IDs while he was at it. When Cameron and Pauline arrived, they’d made it inside where a woman behind a glass partition paused them to check their IDs a second time, scan them into their computer system, and take their picture. Cameron knew the club needed to keep on top of who was in their establishment for emergency reasons as well as knowing what guests were no longer welcome due to foul behavior.

  The bodyguard walked to the bar and leaned heavily against it with his back facing Pauline and Cameron.

  Pauline took Cameron’s shoulder and turned her away. “Why don’t you set your sights on someone who isn’t working until four in the morning?”

  “I like him.”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “Exactly. It’s the perfect combination.”

  Pauline sighed dramatically, and her breath caught the dark pieces of hair that framed her face. “You’re impossible, Cam. Seriously. The people who work here can be just as unsavory as those who stand on our side of the bar. Sometimes even more unsavory, even to the point of being dangerous. Does he seriously look like someone you’d want to get your wires crossed with?”

  Cameron gave her best friend a devilish smile.

  “Forget I said it that way,” Pauline said, knowing those words weren’t deterring Cameron in the slightest. “The people who work here are criminals. Does that give you reason to pause?”

  “Oh my goodness, Pauline. Calm down, all right? All I want is to know his name so I can look into those baby blues and thank him properly. Is that okay with you?”

  Pauline didn’t look convinced, but she offered a weak nod anyway as she sipped back the remainder of her last cocktail. Cameron continuously glanced over her shoulder toward the bar, where on her fourth or fifth look in the bodyguard’s direction, she spied him nodding in her and Pauline’s direction to a server with a tray of drinks.

  The server, dressed in a skimpy black outfit that looked more like bondage than an actual uniform, strutted toward Cameron and Pauline with the tray balanced on her forearm. When she got close, Cameron noticed the glitter on her eyelids in shades of blue and green. Her eye makeup reminded Cameron of a peacock and she complimented the server as the young woman handed two drinks to Cameron and Pauline.

  They were smoking.

  Pauline studied her drink skeptically as smoke rolled over the rim and swallowed her hand and wrist. “What is this?”

  “Fog on the water,” the server said with a smile. She pointed with her free hand back to the bar, where the bodyguard offered some acknowledgement with a slight inclination of his chin. “A friend sent it over to apologize for the gentlemen who were giving you trouble earlier. Don’t worry. They’re more intimidating than they look.” The server giggled. “I meant the drink, not the bodyguards. Although I suppose that could be said for them, too. Wow, I’m saying a lot of things right now. Anyway, enjoy the cocktails on us. Sorry again for any disruption of your evening.”

  The server slipped away and vanished in the crowd to hand out the remaining drinks on her tray.

  Cameron and Pauline studied their cocktails curiously.

  Smoke, which Cameron realized was not actually smoke but just dry ice, billowed and plumed out of her glass.

  She giggled and raised it in a toast to Pauline. “To nights out with your best friend.”

  “To best friends,” Pauline said.

  They sipped their drinks. For some reason, Cameron expected it to be icy cold, but it wasn’t. It had a light, slightly raspberry flavor and it was mildly carbonated. It was refreshing and not too sweet, and Cameron turned to try to catch the bodyguard’s eye.

  He was no longer looking their way but having a conversation with the bartender.

  This was her chance. She had an opening to walk right over to thank him for the drink, hold out her hand, and introduce herself. In turn, she’d get his name, and truth be told, she’d do just about anything to hear that smooth, deep, baritone voice of his.

  Pauline put a hand between Cameron’s shoulder blades and gave her a gentle push forward.

  Cameron looked over her shoulder at her friend. “What are you doing?”

  “Just go talk to him.”

  “I thought you said—”

  “I know what I said.” Pauline sighed. “But I’m not going to have any of your attention for the rest of the night until you get him out of your system. Go say hi. I’ll wait for you here. Just don’t you dare forget about me after we just toasted to best friends.”

  Cameron gave Pauline a one-armed hug and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Have I told you recently how much I fucking adore you, Pauline?”

  “I need to hear it more often based on how much I put up with.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I fucking adore you.”

  “Just go.” Pauline laughed.

  Cameron took her friend’s semi-approval and strode toward the bar.

  The bodyguard still had his back turned to her, so he didn’t see her coming
. She walked languidly, hips swaying with every step, and knew that dozens of men were watching her procession across the club.

  She didn’t mind the attention.

  When she was younger, she’d hated it. She hated the way men looked at her like she was a slab of meat when she was only eighteen years old. Hell, some men had done it when she was younger. It was the curse of being a young woman. Add the wealth, good looks, and dangerously long legs to the already deadly recipe and you had yourself a beacon for male attention.

  Tonight, all she wanted was the attention of one man.

  When she was a few feet away, the bartender nodded at the bodyguard as if to tip him off that she was coming, and he turned halfway around, keeping one elbow resting on the bar top. His other arm rested against his side and he had his thumb hooked in the front pocket of his jeans.

  Cameron gave him her most dazzling smile and held up her drink. “Thank you for the cocktail. You didn’t need to do that. Coming to our rescue was more than enough.”

  His eyes remained glued to hers.

  That was a change of pace for her. Usually, a man would give her a sweeping up down, and if he had poor self-control, he’d do it one or two more times within the first thirty seconds of her standing in front of him. But not this bodyguard. His cool, steady, piercing, blue gaze remained locked with hers to the point where she was almost intimidated.

  “It was the least I could do,” he said.

  His deep voice seemed to ripple in the air around her. Her throat felt a little tight and her cheeks a little hot, but she dared not fan them in front of him. She held out a hand. “My name is Cameron White. My friend over there is Pauline.”

  He pushed off the bar, straightened to his full, neck-craning height, and shook her hand. His grip was firm and warm. “Cole,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

  Cole.

  It suited him.

  He didn’t smile but she didn’t have the impression that he didn’t want to talk to her.

  She did have the impression, however, that those blue eyes of his had seen a lot of things. A lot of not-so-nice things. He had the look of a guarded man. She was sure that every muscle on his body was a purposeful and hard-earned one. None of his body was for show.