Finders Keepers (Fairy Tales After Dark Book 2)

by Jessica Collins

  Seeing her like this — her hair and makeup accentuating her features just so, coupled with the sadness, the same he heard the night before — he yearned to hold her, kiss her. Make her feel safe.

  “Princess, with you looking like that, everything is absolutely right with the world,” he answered, taking a step forward. “You look beautiful,” he continued, smiling when her blush deepened.

  “Lots of makeup,” she shrugged, looking to the ground. His stomach clenched at her body language, torn between wanting her in his arms, and seeing her on her knees.

  Moving closer, he lifted her chin with his fingers. Her chestnut eyes, deep as the earth, held so many secrets.

  “The purple is new,” he agreed, imagining the color leaving rings around his cock as her mouth moved against him. “But the rest is all you. Beautiful.”

  Before he could stop himself, his arm wrapped around the back of her waist, pulling her into him, his fingertips just grazing the top of her perky ass. Holding her against him, the scent of her flooded his system, awakening his senses.

  Goosebumps rose on her arms, indicating she felt it too. Whatever it was between them.

  Letting go of her chin, he wrapped his other arm around her side, moving it up her back, taking the back of her neck in his hand, tilting her head up. Her hands rose to his arms, her delicate fingers splaying around his biceps, the tips curling ever so slightly into his skin.

  “You’re dangerous for someone like me,” he whispered to her, simultaneously wanting to pull her in, and push her away. He spoke honestly, fearing he’d break a girl like her. Not physically — he’d never harm a woman. But, his desires ran deep. Dark. Maybe more than she could handle.

  She was too innocent, too fragile, for what he wanted from her.

  “Is that so?” she challenged. This playful side of her pulling him in — a moth to a flame. “And why, exactly, is that?”

  Smirking, the corners of his mouth lifted, attempting to demonstrate his intent. “You make me want to do very … bad things, with you.”

  Her lips parted, voice rasping, “And that’s a problem, how?”

  The groan rumbled low from his throat, his grip on the back of her neck tightening as blood rushed to his cock. Lifting her in his arm, toes off the ground, he shifted them to against the wall near her vanity. Her back hitting just hard enough to indicate his desperate need for her.

  Her breath quickened, her eyes widening, but she didn’t push him away. Instead, her hands trailed up his arms, one soft hand resting on his shoulder, the other running through the ends of his hair. Her nails against his scalp caused a shiver up his spine.

  He shifted, pulling her hips against his hardened cock.

  Her lips parted in surprise, her hands against him tightening.

  Static rang in his ear.

  “Al, where you at?” Peter called into the earpiece.

  She laughed nervously, looking away. He knew the intensity of the moment was gone. Her words cemented it. “Duty calls, boss man.”

  “Fuck,” he growled, pressing a button on the pack on his side. “What’s up, Pete?”

  It took every ounce of his being to pull back from her.

  “Aleksandr needs you out front. Then, I need you back here.”

  “Five minutes,” he commented, preparing to pull her back to him.

  “No can do. Beast is all pissed about something or other.”

  Alistair shook his head, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Knowing the Beast, Peter probably wasn’t overreacting.

  “Go,” she whispered, deciding for him.

  Nodding, he took a step back, but she caught his arm.

  “You’ll watch, right? My performance?” she asked. An unnecessary anxiety laced her voice.

  Smiling, he kissed her forehead, not trusting what would happen if he allowed himself anywhere near her lips.

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Alistair had never seen Aleksandr anxious. It was almost comical to see the Beast so nervous, but the reason for his distress was nothing to laugh at. They’d checked, and re-checked, the feeds, the microphones, the emergency systems, just to ensure Belle would never be out of sight for more than a few seconds — with someone able to get to her in less than that. He’s a totally different person when it comes to her.

  Rolling his neck, Alistair bit his tongue at the demand for — another — inspection of the girls’ emergency exits.

  “Aleks, try to relax. We’ll run through the systems one more time, but trust me when I say nothing is going to happen to Belle or any of these girls. Their safety is my number one priority, and my men are prepared to do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

  Aleks held out a hand and Alistair shook it.

  “I trust you. Thanks for humoring me.”

  Alistair had assigned each girl their own bodyguard. The guard would shadow her not just at the club and to her car, but would follow her home and make sure she was safely inside before calling it a night. Some of the girls argued, Jayla especially, but he promised they’d never even know the shadow was there.

  As much as it pained him, he was needed in the control booth, so he’d assigned Jayla’s shadow duty to one of the few men he truly trusted, Gene.

  Alistair hadn’t been the only one to find refuge in the idea of responsibility and protection. Despite being a notorious trouble maker bent on ignoring or challenging any authority figure when he was a teenager, Eugene had ended up joining the military, culminating in Navy SEAL status in his mid-twenties. He’d seen dozens of deployments, but his most recent had been his last. Injured in an IED explosion, Gene returned home with a nasty head injury that had kept him in the hospital for months. The wound itself had healed, the scarring hardly noticeable, but the injury had affected his sight just enough to keep him from returning to active duty. At thirty-two, he retired from the Navy with a chest full of medals, and agreed to work full-time for LBS.

  At Aleksandr’s request, Alistair personally completed the last security check and went to search for Gene before the doors opened for business. He found him, unsurprisingly, sitting at the bar, a plate of food in front of him.

  Placing an entire chicken wing in his mouth, Gene pulled, sucking the bone dry in one motion.

  Alistair watched in abhorrence.

  “What?” Gene asked, smirking at his ability to make Alistair queasy. “Can’t a man eat in peace?”

  “That’s disgusting, and you know it. Can’t you at least eat it like a normal person?”

  “And miss out on all the hot, sticky, fatty, meaty deliciousness? Never!” Gene joked, reaching for the last wing in the basket. “Food’s amazing,” he remarked, wiping his hands with a wet nap. “I’m going to need to work out twice as hard to work here. Look at me from the side, do I look different to you?” He lifted his shirt, showing off his ridiculously sculpted abdomen.

  Based on the amount of bones, and knowing his friend, Alistair guessed he’s already plowed through about thirty wings. Damn if the man couldn’t eat.

  “Christ, keep your shirt on. I’ve already seen too much of you.” And that was the honest to God truth. Alistair had seen naked parts of his body, all the parts of his body, far too many times for him to count. Gene had an incredible knack for finding a way to show off himself off, finding it hilarious.

  “You’re gonna need to give your paycheck to Beast if you don’t control yourself,” he chided, laughing.

  “Nice try. Beast already told us food and drinks are on the house while we’re on duty.”

  Before he could say anything else, Peter’s voice sounded in their ear pieces.

  “Al, gonna need you back here, ASAP.”

  Gene’s brow raised. “That kid is on edge tonight something fierce. Trouble with the missus, you think?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, maybe. Certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” Alistair replied.

  Peter hated it when Gene called Tink his “missus”, but the name w
as hardly undeserved as the two of them fought like an old married couple. All the guys knew better, however. Peter wanted Tink. Tink didn’t want Peter. Which only added fuel to the fire of the men’s endless tormenting of him.

  “Duty calls. Be ready in five. You’re on Jayla all night. She’s in the first and last group numbers and has a solo halfway in. Other than that, she’s on the floor, no bookstore duty tonight.”

  Gene smirked. “I know. You’ve told me. Three times.”

  Rather than answer, Alistair stood, moving toward the office.

  “Aye-aye, captain,” Gene muttered in pirate-esque brogue, giving a sauce-covered two-finger salute.

  Alistair shook his head. For someone as deadly as Gene, he could never be serious for more than a few minutes.

  Walking into the office, Alistair shut the door behind him. Judging by Peter’s scowl, he wasn’t in the same jovial mood as Gene.

  “We have an issue with one of the girls,” Peter’s voice rang through the empty office.

  “What? Who?” he asked, taking the seat across from the desk.

  “We ran all the normal scans — background, criminal history, fingerprints — all came up fine, which is why we gave the go-ahead last week. Just to be doubly-sure, I asked Tink to complete a secondary screening for me. She just called. We’ve got a major issue. One of the social security numbers is fake.”

  “Fake?”

  “Well, not technically ‘fake’, more like … ‘borrowed’.” Leaning back in the chair, Peter crossed his arms. “Borrowed” meant a legit social — for a deceased person.

  “And you didn’t catch that earlier?”

  “That’s the thing, boss. The social ties back to her name, address, even the birth certificate. Her fingerprints match as well. It’s not just a fake social, it’s a whole fake identity. Peter sounded impressed. “This wasn’t someone buying a number off the dark web for a credit card scam. This was … damn, this is like, witness protection level shit.”

  Alistair puffed a breath through his cheeks at the thought of any of these women needing that type of protection. It could only mean one thing. Someone — a very bad someone, or worse, someones — were after them.

  Which could mean a lot of trouble for the other girls, the club, if that person came here. Trouble Aleks might not want to keep around.

  “I don’t like the idea of breaking this news to the Beast, but he needs to know.” He shook his head again. “Who is it?”

  Peter didn’t answer. Glancing at the computer, his lips pulled into his mouth.

  “Peter,” Alistair warned, not wanting to delay the news any longer.

  Looking up, Peter swallowed. “Boss, it’s Jayla.”

  Walking backstage, Jayla’s face actually ached from smiling so much.

  Opening night was a grand success. They’d even had to turn customers away at the front. Aleksandr’s marketing had done the job perfectly, as they were also booked for the rest of the weekend.

  Performing in the group numbers and her solo, energy rushed through her veins. She felt … alive.

  Yet, there was something nagging at her. A disappointment she refused to allow to affect her happy mood.

  Using a makeup wipe to clean her face, Jayla examined herself in the mirror. Staring back at her was a woman she hadn’t seen in years — herself.

  I’ll never lose you again.

  Dabbing on quick coat of mascara and lip gloss, in hopes it would help to mask her exhaustion, she stood, walking to the group of girls talking on the other side of the room.

  Snow, Sirena, and Belle sat with Evangeline and Merry — best friends, and bartenders. They nursed Cosmos and were dishing about the crowd.

  “I’ve worked a multitude of bars. This was, by far, the best decision I’ve ever made,” Evangeline said, counting her tips. “I was worried for a bit that the guys would be sleezy, but they were all gentlemen. It’s like the concept brings them back to the ’20s or something. One even went so far as to use the whole ‘yes ma’am’, ‘no ma’am’ when answering me. It was great.”

  “Evie, the guy you’re talking about was a Marine,” Merry said, laughing and slapping her arm. “That’s why he was all ‘yes ma’am.’ You didn’t notice the tattoo?”

  Evangeline looked up, shrugging. “Couldn’t take my eyes away from that gorgeous face.”

  “Did you give him your number?” Snow asked.

  “I told him if he came back tomorrow, I would.” Wiggling her eyebrows, she continued, winking at Jayla, “They need to show some effort, amiright?”

  At the question, Jayla again thought about Alistair — the one shadow in an otherwise amazing evening. He showed effort, in calling and texting, taking care of Rajah. And yet, when it came time for him to be there, like he’d promised — he disappeared. She’d looked for him before, during, and after her performance. Nada. She couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt.

  A nagging voice twisted her stomach. He doesn’t really want you, after all.

  Her thoughts then drifted to earlier tonight — his warm breath against her ear, his hard body pressed against hers, his…

  She wanted him more in that moment than she’d ever craved Jeffrey. Based on what she felt in his pants, he had wanted her just as badly. And she’d thought it was more than just lust. She felt honesty in him during their phone call, and today, when he’d called her beautiful. The compliment came from his heart.

  Then again, maybe she was wrong. Just another prick looking to get his dick wet.

  Annoyed, Jayla answered, “Absolutely. Effort way more than a pretty face with a hard on.”

  Evie snorted. “Got that right.”

  Finishing their drinks, the girls said their goodbyes, ready to get to bed for the night. She’d made plans to crash at Snow’s for the evening, thanks to a faulty heater and falling temperatures.

  “I’ll be right back, Snow. Just need to grab my bag,” Jayla called over her shoulder, moving toward her station.

  “I’ll wait right here.”

  Jayla was looking forward to hanging out with Snow. They’d already decided to go for coffee and cinnamon rolls in the morning. Snow promised the coffee shop up the street from her place had the best ones in town.

  Turning the corner, Jayla found Alistair sitting in her seat, feet planted firmly on the ground, legs in a wide position. As if he owned the space.

  Figures.

  A darkness settled over his features when he caught sight of her, a harshness she hadn’t seen before. She shivered at the raw masculinity exuding from him.

  For a split second she imagined falling to her knees between his open thighs, taking him into her mouth. Wiping that look off his face.

  You’ve officially gone crazy, Jayla. He’s nothing but a sexy jackass, remember that.

  She reached across him to grab her overnight bag from the floor.

  “I thought you were going to watch my performance.”

  Ignoring her comment, he spoke, “We need to talk.”

  Eyes narrowing, she opened her mouth to let him have it, when a hand clasped her shoulder from behind. Turning, Jayla was embraced by Belle.

  “You were amazing out there,” Belle began. “I tried to catch you after the last group number, but I lost you in the crowd. The solo? Oh, my gosh, girl, they love you. They nearly shook the place down with applause!”

  Belle’s eyes shone, and she bounced with happy energy, clapping her hands in front of her, like a kid on their first day of school.

  Jayla laughed at the praise.

  “Opening night went better than I even imagined,” Belle continued. “Come out front, I want to introduce you to my father. This whole thing was his idea, I want him to meet all the girls before he leaves. Oh, and before I forget, Monday night we’re having a girls’ night at my house.” She glanced over Jayla’s shoulder at Alistair before dropping her voice. “I’m having a sex toy party! It’ll be so much fun! You have to be there, okay. Will you be there? Say yes!”

  Jayla’s
eyes darted over Belle’s face, trying to keep up. “Sex toys?” she mouthed, not wanting to give Alistair the satisfaction of hearing her say it out loud.

  Laughing, Belle shrugged. “No pressure to buy anything, just come for the fun. And the wine. Who knows, maybe if I have enough glasses I’ll actually buy this swing I’ve been—”

  Alistair’s cough interrupted her.

  “What? Like it bothers you?” Belle laughed. “Don’t worry, Aleks has something planned for the guys too. He wants to thank you all for helping with security. He keeps going on and on about this new bar he wants to try. Can you pass the word around to all the other guys?”

  Not waiting for an answer, her gaze returned to Jayla and took her arm. “Come on, let’s go meet my dad.”

  “Jayla.” Alistair’s voice interrupted the moment, his tone a warning, telling her to stay there. With him.

  “Guess you’ll have to catch me next time,” she responded pleasantly, battling her eyes for added flourish. Needing to get a final dig in, she stopped, turning in her tracks. Bending to him, kissing his forehead, as he had done to her earlier, she whispered, “Unless you’re not around for me then, either.”

  Okay, so she was being overdramatic. Maybe something came up. Maybe he had an emergency. Maybe…

  Maybe he’s just like every other guy.

  Frowning, she walked with Belle. That wasn’t entirely fair. He wasn’t like Jeffrey at all. Alistair was funny, and sweet. And kind. Even the hint of his darker side was different. It wasn’t evil dark, not like Jeffrey. It was commanding. Powerful, yet playful. Erotic even.

  Shit. Closing her eyes, shaking her head, she couldn’t believe it.

  I like him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jayla shut the car door behind her and stared up, dumbfounded, at Belle’s … mansion. After meeting Belle’s father the other night, Jayla had promised to attend the sex toy party, and Belle texted her the address. Never in a million years would Jayla have imagined that Belle lived in a place like this. She was so down-to-earth. Then again, Belle had mentioned she lived with Aleksandr. Yep, this fits Aleks to a tee.