by Stella James
*
When I arrive at the club the place is already packed. In the few shifts I’ve worked, I’ve realized just how everything around here operates and it isn’t hard to see why Gus has such a successful business on his hands. Everyone here admires and respects him, and rightly so. He’s fair, he pays decent wages and when he told me that everyone here is like family, he meant it. He genuinely cares about the safety and well-being of the girls who work for him.
I take my usual place between the bar and the stage where I have a clear view of the entire club. It isn’t long before the lights begin to dim and the entire room focuses on the stage. The music starts slow but quickly picks up tempo as the curtains part and a handful of dancers take the stage. I spot Dru instantly on the left. They are in perfect sync with each other and have the crowd wrapped around their fingers as they move across the stage, hitting every beat. My gaze lingers on Dru for longer than it should, she has the same flirty grin on her face that she did the other night and every time she grinds her hips I can’t help but wonder how her luscious curves would feel beneath my fingertips. Something in her calls to me, to all of me.
It shames me to think it but in the time that I knew Lindsey, I felt merely a fraction of what I’m feeling now. I suppose that’s my own fault as well as hers. Neither one of us had any solid investment in each other besides the fact that we were convenient for one another. Any woman that has come along since has merely served the purpose of scratching a superficial itch. But something about Dru is different. She’s completely under my skin and I hardly know her.
“Not a bad gig at all, is it?” Dean, one of the bartenders sets down a case of whiskey and nods toward the stage. “Brenna’s got some long ass legs,” he whistles, eyeing her up. I can already feel my fists clenching at my sides at the thought of him watching Dru with the same appreciation. What the hell is wrong with me?
“You need a hand getting that to the bar?” I ask.
“Nah, I got it. Thanks, man.”
He takes the hint and packs the booze back behind the bar. My eyes flash back to the front of the room just at the music fades and Dru disappears back stage. I remind myself yet again that I have no claim to this woman. I have no business watching her and entertaining the idea of her body beneath mine. I tell myself to let go of whatever this is before it’s too late and I have to choose between the past and the future because I know they can’t exist together. The damned and guilty don’t deserve second chances. That’s what I tell myself when I radio James and tell him that he needs to work the floor while I take the back door. I play the words over and over as I make my way down the hallway past the dressing room. I should let it go. Let her go. I know I should, but I won’t.
Chapter 5
Dru
The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins when I duck behind the dark screen in the dressing room to change. I don’t often have a place in the group performances, but Denise has finals this week and asked if I’d cover for her. Vanessa, the choreographer we work with makes sure that each dancer is familiar with every group number for this exact reason. I don’t mind filling in, it’s a nice change and I can always use the extra cash. I have a meeting tomorrow morning with Cassie, the owner of the art gallery and I’m hoping to give her two extra pieces this month, if she has the room and likes what she sees.
I pull on my jeans and a thin black T-shirt before I toss my hair up into a ponytail. Brenna and Margo are changing for the next performance when I grab my bag out of my locker.
“You’re in a hurry tonight,” Brenna notices. “Hot date?” Her tone is very obviously hopeful.
“If by hot date you mean a glass of wine and a new Netflix documentary about mail order brides, then yes, I have a very hot date,” I grin.
“Ugh, Dru, your life offends me,” she scoffs. “And to think, I totally thought you and the new guy were going to hit it off. With all your matching dark hair and beautiful features and whatnot,” she sighs and turns back to the mirror to touch up her lipstick.
“Why would you think Ethan and I would hit it off?” I can feel the heat crawl up my neck and I’m hoping she doesn’t notice or I am never going to hear the end of it.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because he looks at you like he hasn’t eaten in ten years and you’re his favourite meal.” Her cheeky stare meets mine in the mirror and I know she can see the satisfaction on my face when her eyes go wide. “You filthy little sl-.”
I turn and close the door behind me before she can finish her sentence. I’m adult enough that I wouldn’t lie about my attraction to Ethan, but it feels wrong to make him the center of dressing room gossip. I’m still smiling when I get to the back door and expect to see James sitting in his usual chair working on a crossword puzzle. I look up and see the current occupant of my thoughts leaning against the wall, his thick arms crossed in front of his broad chest. He looks casual, almost like he’s lost in thought. I stand there quietly and watch him. My eyes travel up his muscular frame all the way to the sharp line of his jaw which now sports a five o’clock shadow. I allow myself to briefly imagine what it would feel like to have his short beard brush against my skin. The thought alone shoots a blanket of goosebumps down my spine. I take another step but when he looks up at me, his expression offers me no insight. He uncrosses his arms and pushes off the wall, waiting for me to come to him and when only a foot separates us, we still haven’t spoken but our eyes remain fixed on each other.
“Where’s James?” I ask quietly.
“I asked him to cover the floor,” he says.
“Why?”
“I suppose I don’t really have an answer for that,” he admits, running a hand through his thick hair. We stand in silence and as my impatience begins to get the best of me I decide to just go for it.
“Do you feel it, Ethan?” My voice is little more than a whisper, but I have to know. I need to know. Is my mind playing tricks on me or is there something between us that deserves more than a passing acknowledgment? He doesn’t respond right away, and the uncertainty of the situation threatens to do serious damage to my ego. I take a step back, along with a deep breath.
“Well, you know where to find me,” I say as I take a step around him and head for the door.
I reach for the handle and pull it open when I suddenly feel him behind me, he places his hand above mine and shuts the door before bringing his lips dangerously close to the back of my neck. His other arm cages me in, his palm flat against the metal door. My breath catches and I instinctively lean back into him as if I have no choice in the matter.
“First of all, you’re not going out there by yourself at this hour,” he growls against the side of my neck, his breath tickling my skin. “Secondly, I want you to seriously think about where that imagination of yours is wandering.” His voice is low when he speaks again. “Because I do feel it, Dru. I also know that if we start something I won’t be able to stop. And I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”
His threatening promise fills me with a kind of anticipation that I have never felt before. I can feel a strong and steady ache between my thighs and I’m unable to speak, so I simply nod. He pushes open the heavy door and the evening air cools my flushed face. He flags down a taxi and opens the door for me but before I can slide into the backseat he grabs my wrist and gently tugs me back against him.
“You know where to find me,” he repeats my own words back to me.
When I turn to face him he’s already heading back to the club and halfway to the door. I’m going to need more than just a glass of wine to relax when I get home.
*
“These are fantastic Dru, I love the colours and the different textures you’ve used.”
“Really? So, you think they might sell?”
I’m standing in Cassie’s small office smiling like a lunatic. I was nervous to show her my new pieces because they’re a bit different than what I normally bring in. I chose to work with a bold colour scheme and I know the bright pi
nks and oranges might not be pleasing to every eye, but I fell in love with the combination the minute my brush touched the canvas. Each painting features the silhouette of a woman. In one she’s lying down on her side, and in the other I’ve showcased her profile. They would look great displayed together but I’m not fussy when it comes to a sale, I’ll happily sell them separately.
“I think we should consider doing an exhibit, I really think you’re ready and the way your work’s been selling lately, I think it would be a great way for you to get your name out there,” she says.
“I would love to do my own show; do you really think people will come?”
“You let me worry about that,” she laughs. “I’ll sort out the details and let you know what I’ve come up with by the end of the week, in the meantime you just worry about painting.”
I’m filled with nervous excitement as I exit the gallery, I’ve dreamed of having my own exhibit for so long and Cassie has been so supportive since I first started out. The thought of seeing my own paintings being admired and discussed makes me giddy and I instantly want to share the sentiment. I pull my phone out of my bag to text Anna and tell her the good news and see that I have a message from Elle.
Elle: Hey! Sorry I missed you guys last weekend, we need to catch up soon xo
I’ll believe that when I see it. Elle has practically been a figment of our imaginations since she met Blake. Part of me understands, and I am happy for her. But I can’t help the twinge of envy that I feel. Even when we were younger, things always seemed to work out for her no matter what. It didn’t matter that we both wore second hand clothes, the popular girls only noticed mine and not hers. Boys practically fell at her feet while I was labelled a snob because I spent all my free time in the art room and working part-time rather than partying and going to football games. I’ve always had to work for everything and as much as I love her, and I know she loves me, it’s hard not to let that resentment come between us sometimes. Anna would tell me in the sweetest way possible to let it go and I know she’s right. But if anything, I am a work in progress.
Me: That would be great, I’m sure Anna would like that too.
Elle: For sure! I’ll call you later this week <3
I decide to just call Anna later as I head to the nearest coffee shop. I don’t have to be at the club tonight and since it’s such a nice day I think I’ll head over to the park and sketch for a bit before lunch. I walk through the door and inhale the heavenly scent of coffee and pastries. I’m not standing in line for more than a few minutes when I hear the door open behind me and I suddenly feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I turn around and the fact that Ethan is standing right behind me should surprise me, but it doesn’t since I seem to be oddly in tune to him. I flash him a smile and then turn back around.
“I’m beginning to think that you’re following me,” I say as the line moves forward.
He leans in close, smelling like fresh soap combined with something distinctly male. Distinctly him. It makes my knees weak and I decide that rather than overthink the way I react to this man I hardly know, I’m going to take a chance and embrace it. You only live once, right?
“I don’t think you’d mind if I were,” he says.
“You’re quite sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“I don’t need to be sure of myself when the evidence is all over your face.”
I stumble to the counter and order a latte. Ethan steps beside me and orders a black coffee and pays for both. He’s dressed casually in worn jeans and a tight fitting grey Henley, the sleeves of which are pushed up and over his muscular forearms. He still hasn’t shaved and the short, dark stubble along his jaw only adds to his brooding appeal. I take my drink from the girl behind the counter and find myself grateful to have something to occupy my hands. If the evidence of my attraction to Ethan is so obvious, I decide that being forward can’t hurt at this point. We head for the door and when we step outside, I turn to face him.
“Do you want to go for a walk with me?”
He doesn’t answer but instead nods and places his hand on my lower back, guiding me toward the park. His hand is firm and I can feel the heat from his palm through my thin T- shirt. It feels like we are the only two people in the entire city and all I can think is, please don’t turn out to be a damn frog.
Chapter 6
Ethan
The last thing I should be doing is touching her, but the curve of her spine beneath my hand is too tempting to resist and witnessing the pink blush that inches up her neck only entices me further. The moment she asked me last night if I felt it too, my resolve to stay away from her began to slip even further into oblivion. Being that close to her without putting my lips on her took a level of control that I’d never had to summon before, because I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I wanted her in that moment. The heat from her body lingered on mine long after I walked back into the club.
We continue to walk down the busy sidewalk and once we reach the gates of the park I allow myself to breathe again. I have no idea what I’m doing, it’s been so long since I was in the company of a woman for longer than it takes to simply take our pleasure and call it a night. She gestures to a bench and we sit down under the partial shade of a nearby tree.
“So, I know you’re only at the club on a temporary contract and I know that you specialize in security. I also know that your last name is Talbot, you’re thirty-one years old and you used to be a cop,” she says. “Maybe you could tell me something I don’t know,” she suggests with a grin before sipping her coffee and licking the foam from her top lip.
“I don’t know about that, you seem to be doing just fine playing detective,” I point out. I find myself returning her smile but I’m quick to change the subject. Sifting through the sordid details of my past isn’t what I want to be doing right now. “Maybe you should tell me about yourself and even the score,” I challenge.
“Fair enough,” she laughs lightly. “Well, my name is Dru Marx, I’m twenty-five, I’ve been working for Gus since I was eighteen and I like to paint.”
I gesture to the bag beside her. “And do you always haul your studio around with you wherever you go?”
She playfully smirks and says, “Of course I do.” She places her cup on the ground and pulls out the same sketch pad that I handed back to her the other day, along with a sharpened pencil. She turns to face me, tucking her long legs underneath her.
“What are you doing?”
“Knitting a sweater. What does it look like I’m doing? Hold still.”
“You better not be using me as a model,” I warn.
“Stop talking, and I’ll tell you a story,” she says as she looks down and places the tip of the pencil on the paper. “Once upon a time, there was a young woman who was born into unfortunate circumstances,” she looks up at me and when I give in, gesturing for her to continue, I’m rewarded with a bright smile. “That same young woman found herself suddenly in the care of a stranger and she was scared and unsure of what fate had in store for her. So one day, the woman who was now her guardian took her downtown to a small store and when they walked hand in hand through the front door, the young woman felt a sense of peace. Right down to her toes, she knew in that moment that everything was going to be okay. The kind woman who brought her there directed her to a shelf full of thick pads of paper and boxes of pencils and told her to choose one of each. So she did. They paid for the items and the young woman held the bag tight to her chest, afraid that someone might come along and try to take her newfound happiness away from her. But much to her satisfaction, no one did. When they got home, she took her items to the bedroom she shared with her new sister and sat on her bed. She pulled one sharp pencil from the box and flipped to the first clean page and she began to draw.”
She pauses and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, tilting her head to the side as she looks up at me and back down to the paper. She sets down her pencil and flips the pad around to show me.
“And she’s been drawing and painting ever since,” she says.
I take the pad from her hands and look down at my own likeness. She’s sketched and shaded my profile and when I glance down at the corner of the page, I see she’s drawn a small frog.
“What’s with the frog?”
“Top secret,” she teases.
I begin to tear the page from her book, but she places her hand on mine and stops me.
“This one is for me Ethan,” she says.
*
We end up spending the entire afternoon together and when we leave the park we decide to grab lunch at a nearby café. Being with Dru is something I could easily become addicted to. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known and the more I hear her laugh and see the warmth in her eyes, the easier I find it to ignore the voice in my head that tells me I don’t deserve to feel anything but my own guilt. She doesn’t pry but I satisfy her curiosity by telling her that I come from a long line of law enforcement. Both my old man and grandfather were cops along with both my uncles. It was in my blood and there was never any question of whether I would go into the same line of duty to serve and protect. She doesn’t ask why I’m now working freelance security and I don’t offer an explanation. She tells me a bit about her foster sisters and about the woman who has raised them since they were teenagers. It’s nearly evening when I walk her home. She unlocks her door and turns to me, an invitation clear in her eyes.
“Ethan,” she says softly as she looks up at me. “Will you come in?” she asks.
She opens the door behind her and before I can think about it, my mouth is claiming hers. I push the door open further and guide us inside, my hands tangling in her long hair and I’m unable to control the growl that rumbles up from my chest. She drops her bag and when my hands wrap around her ass and squeeze, she hops up and wraps her legs around my waist. The heat from between her thighs has my cock straining against my jeans as I put my mouth on her neck and graze my teeth along the smooth column of her throat. She gasps and moans when I pull her ear lobe into my mouth and nip it gently. I walk us to the bed in the corner of the room and coax her down onto the mattress, covering her body with mine. Once she unwraps her legs from around my waist, I remove her jeans along with her shoes. She pulls off her shirt, her chest heaving as she lies there in a sexy red bra and a matching scrap of silk between her thighs. The light from the streetlamp below shines in through the high windows, casting a gentle glow over her smooth skin. Right down to my core, it feels like I’ve never wanted anything more than I want her. She smiles up at me and unravels me completely when she holds out her hand and pulls me to her. She props herself up and I unclasp her bra, pulling it from her body and releasing her perfect breasts. I take one dark nipple in my mouth and bite down gently.