Dear Diamond

by Walls, Stephie

  “Ma?” I called her name, knowing she wasn’t around. If she had been, she’d be an upturned mess, crying on the floor, waiting for someone to save her. “What if it was my mom they were looking for?”

  His broad shoulder lifted casually before it dropped. “Might have been. It’s not like she runs with good people. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but she doesn’t make great choices, either.” He must have sensed the ache that statement caused in my chest, or maybe I grimaced without realizing it. “It’s easy to get caught up in bad things around here and even easier not to be able to get out.”

  Slowly, I turned in a circle to assess the damage. It was a disaster, but I had no intention of cleaning up the mess. I didn’t create it, and I damn sure hadn’t caused it. “I need to get my things. I’ll deal with this later.”

  Ryker snatched my hand as I walked by. “Get enough stuff for a few days. I don’t want you coming back here until we get this worked out. It’s not safe.”

  It was never safe. It never would be. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do—”

  “Don’t argue. Just get your shit, and let’s get out of here.”

  “Ryker, I can’t—”

  “Not open for discussion. Get your shit. Now.”

  I held his beautiful brown eyes for a beat longer than necessary. When I nodded my acceptance, he released my fingers. My room wasn’t in any better shape than the rest of the apartment, so I picked up stuff from the floor and snagged a backpack to toss it in. Then I went to the bathroom, grabbed the rest of my crap and every bit of makeup I could find. I caught my reflection in the mirror, and for a split second, I wondered how God chose who got rags and who got riches. Just looking at me, no one would be able to tell where I came from, even though it defined me—minus the bruises on my face. I must have seriously pissed someone off in a previous life to have been dealt such a shit hand in this one.

  “Nikki.” His voice was rich and deep and laced with a concern he shouldn’t feel.

  I responded with earnest. He was dangerous. But our stars had aligned, and now, I had to trust him. My heart screamed yes. My head yelled no. In the end, intuition gave way to desire, and the remote possibility of a happily ever after outweighed the more distinct probability of a painful demise. Ryker twisted me into knots that I didn’t know could be tied. I’d become a bumbling idiot who blindly went into the lion’s den with a steak tied around my neck.

  There was zero chance I would come out of this unscathed, and not much better odds of doing it alive. But I didn’t think about the pending doom when Ryker took my hand or wrapped his fingers around mine. I simply let him lead me out of hell and down the stairs toward something else. The redhead and the boy were gone, although I was confident they’d kept their word to watch out for Ryker. I imagined they did it from inside.

  The bike sat where we’d left it. Ryker hung his helmet—the one he’d never put down—from the grip and grabbed mine. This little charade could quickly become a ritual I lived for. He held my gaze while fidgeting with the strap. Every brush of his skin against mine sent a chill down my spine. If he realized what I felt, he kept his thoughts on it to himself. He’d been nothing other than respectful, which was in total contrast to his outward appearance. While I should appreciate that, I started to wonder what was wrong with me that he hadn’t made a move—any move.

  “Stop,” he murmured just as he secured the button on the strap.

  I hadn’t moved. “Stop what?”

  “Thinking. Whatever it is, I’m sure you’re over analyzing it.” Ryker didn’t smile or wink. He didn’t offer me any reassurance. Typical man.

  “I’m not thinking about anything.”

  He lifted his helmet and put it on. “And now you’re lying. It’s not attractive, so stop that, too.” Ryker swung a booted foot over the seat and started the ignition. The distinct sound of the Harley roared through the otherwise quiet parking lot.

  I stood next to him, staring blankly at a man I wanted to slap and undress, although not necessarily in that order.

  “Get on the bike, Nikki.” The way he sang my name caused my heart to beat a bit faster and a tingle to root itself between my legs.

  I needed to get a grip before Ryker Davis destroyed me.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Ryker and I were outside Swank. I dreaded entering. Not knowing what I’d face or when the other shoe would drop was worse than any punishment Jesse could have doled out. There was certainty in punishment; the degree kept me guessing.

  With my backpack strapped on, I walked a step behind the foreboding figure I’d shown up with. There was no doubt in my mind that Ryker garnered fear and respect wherever he went. If I had to be sidled with a broody alpha, at least he was nice to look at…or swoon over, whichever.

  I didn’t normally come through the front door, not that there was a normal with this place. I hadn’t been here long enough to have a routine. Nevertheless, it seemed odd to enter like a customer without being one. The bouncer waved us through without so much as a word. Regardless of how badly I wanted to ask how Ryker got by without paying a cover or even offering a greeting, I kept my mouth shut. Swank wasn’t open for business, anyhow. Questioning him wouldn’t do anything other than present more questions that I didn’t want answers to.

  The pink lights weren’t on, and it was the first time I’d seen the place without having the notion of glam vomited all over it. The girls wandered around barely dressed, and the bartender worked behind the counter topless like I imagined men and women did in suits in offices. Although here, there were no clocks, which I assumed was to keep men from realizing just how much time they’d wasted. I pulled my cell from my back pocket. I had about thirty minutes before the first girl would take the stage.

  Cinnamon stood behind the bar. Her breasts were stunning—and one of the few sets in this place that were real. Gravity and disparity hadn’t ruined her yet. She handed over the schedule so I could see where I fell in tonight’s lineup. Ryker hovered behind me, obviously memorizing the dance order. I didn’t have long to change and put on my makeup if I needed to be ready to dance second.

  I turned to address the brick wall that loomed at my side. “I need to change.”

  “Lead the way.” He had to be kidding.

  My jaw fell slack as I gawked at him. “You can’t be serious.”

  He didn’t bother responding. Ryker simply arched his thick brow and waited.

  My vision blurred when I rolled and then crossed my eyes. “Fine. But you’re not watching.” It was stupid. I displayed my bare chest for random men, and a string didn’t exactly cover my ass, yet under Ryker’s watchful stare, it became intimate and unnerving.

  A smirk crossed his lips when he shook his head. He held out his hand—that I didn’t take—as if to usher the way backstage. I grunted in discomfort. I didn’t have to turn around to know he was behind me. Even if he hadn’t told me he would follow, I could have felt him a mile away. The tiny hairs on my arms and the back of my neck never laid flat when he was near. The tingle between my legs kept an electric current flowing through my limbs with him in the vicinity.

  There wasn’t really a discreet place to change. Strippers took their clothes off for money. Other than backstage, the club didn’t provide private dressing rooms. The staff stayed out from behind the curtain—the men, anyway. But there wasn’t anyone back here to object to Ryker’s presence, and based on the way these girls responded to him, I didn’t think any of them would care regardless. If anything, they’d put on a show to try to draw his attention.

  I set my backpack down at one of the makeup stations and dug out my costume. Casually, Ryker gave me his back and my privacy. I sighed, unsure of why that move felt more like rejection than consideration, and began to undress. It didn’t take long to put on what little I wore on stage—hell, it took longer to lace my combat boots than cinch my corset.

  Once I folded my jeans and the shirt I’d had on, I sat in front of the lighted mirr
or with my makeup case. “You can turn around.” It would take a miracle and heavy concealer to cover the marks Sam had left on my face. My only hope was that the stage lights cast enough shadows to mask what I couldn’t hide.

  Ryker peered through dark lashes and into the mirror at my reflection. The whistle that sang through his teeth caused my heart to swell, even if I didn’t let it show outwardly. I didn’t have the nerve to look him in the eyes, so I began to apply the heavy paint that transformed me into the girl men wanted on stage, Diamond.

  I finished my face just as the first song played. The makeup wasn’t perfect, but it got the job done. I didn’t look like I’d been in a barroom brawl, which was better than I’d hoped. When I spun on the stool, I grabbed my bag and went to the lockers. I didn’t think any of the other girls would steal, but the money I collected during each dance belonged to a drug lord, so I couldn’t take any chances of it sprouting legs. Ryker stayed a step behind, following me everywhere I went, including the side of the stage.

  “Are you going to stand here during my performance?” Having something to focus on in the crowd had been a welcomed distraction. Ryker prevented me from acknowledging the hungry hands that reached up from the darkness around the stage’s edge.

  “Unless you want me somewhere else.” It was an odd statement, like I had a choice.

  But if he was offering, I’d try my luck. “I’d rather you sat at the bar.”

  He cocked his head just a bit, and his brow furrowed. Before he could ask any questions, I chose to offer an answer.

  “It’s easier for me to…” I didn’t have the faintest clue how to say what was on my mind. “Focus on you.” I cast my line of sight to the floor to avoid witnessing his rejection—or worse, seeing humor in my stupidity.

  Ryker’s thick, tatted fingers came into view and then lifted my chin. “Don’t do that.” He tucked my hair behind my ear in an odd display of familiarity and intimacy, and then he cradled my jaw in his palm. “If that works for you, that’s what I’ll do. But when you’re done, meet me here. Do not move from this spot once the lights go off. Understand?”

  I held his eyes with intention, chewed my bottom lip, and nodded innocently. Ryker dropped his hand, but he didn’t move…not even when I faced the stage. The music faded out, and darkness engulfed the club. I waited for the first beat of “Pour It Up” by Rihanna to start. In the moments between Jasmine’s exit and my entrance, Ryker grazed my side with his hand and caressed my exposed skin just under the corset, possessively.

  Nikki fell away, and in her place, Diamond took the stage.

  The spotlight hit me as the electronic beat hummed through the speakers. The crowd erupted the second I came into view center stage. As much as I hated anyone having to do this as a career, I had respect for a woman who could work a pole with precision. My muscles ached after one song. It took incredible control, and I only did very elementary tricks. Flexibility was the only thing working in my favor; although, I would never understand what men found sexy about a woman doing the splits. The other girls were helpful in all ways except choreography. I depended on music videos I’d memorized in high school. Luckily, I’d spent more time dancing to slutty music in the privacy of our tiny apartment than I had socializing, and those moves translated into happy customers. Not that drunk men cared once my top came off, and if they had, as soon as I bent over, exposing myself, they wouldn’t have anymore.

  I didn’t focus on the men, just one man…and I felt the music. It was easier to lose myself in his watchful stare and the beat of a hypnotic song than to believe I’d succumbed to this lifestyle. Even as far away as Ryker sat, the heat that radiated from his skin and his intensity enraptured me. I became oblivious to the hands tucking bills into my G-string and the fingers that slid down my thigh. His pointed stare spurred me on. I might have been forced to dance for cash, but I wanted to dance for him.

  I’d gotten so lost in seducing him, the song had ended, and the lights extinguished. My chest heaved with exertion as I hustled across the stage in the dark. The instant his hand met my hip and pulled me into his side, I didn’t hesitate to allow him to shelter me. The protection felt better than it should. I would have frozen time right there had I been capable.

  Instead of escorting me backstage, he led me down the steps.

  “Where are we going?” I had a while before my next performance, but I figured he’d lurk in the back the same way I did.

  Ryker’s fingers dug into my side, and we were bathed in swaths of pink fluorescence. “VIP.” He couldn’t be serious.

  I nearly screeched but managed to stop myself to keep from making a scene. “What?” I stopped and stared up through the distance separating our heights.

  “You wanted to work the floor. I bought your time. Remember?” He didn’t wait for me to answer.

  Not once in my life had I ever given anyone a lap dance. I hadn’t even so much as witnessed anyone get one. I didn’t have a clue what to do or how to do it. Yet Ryker didn’t hesitate. He moved through Swank with ownership. There wasn’t a step of hesitation when we neared the VIP area, and the bouncer didn’t so much as blink, seeing Ryker’s arm around my waist. I was fairly certain this was against the rules, but the thug just winked and stepped aside to allow us to pass.

  I’d seen the private rooms during my tour before I started. I just hadn’t visited them since. Nor had I paid attention to the music playing or the size or space or anything else about them. It hadn’t occurred to me to take note since I’d never planned to step foot in them. Now, not only was I inside one, I was alone with a man who could make panties disappear with one look and start blazing infernos just by breathing on my skin.

  I couldn’t tell if he had experience in VIP or if this was just his usual confidence brimming over. I, on the other hand, sweated profusely and contemplated whether I smelled. There was nothing to wipe my palms on, and I wondered if Ryker would complain if I used his shirt. He sat on a bench before I could exercise that option. I straightened my spine and adjusted my weight on my feet, clueless over what he actually expected from me. There should have been a bouncer in the room, or so I thought, and there wasn’t. I was lost.

  Ryker crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. His thick thighs spread naturally to accommodate what I assumed occupied the space between them, and I let out a loud groan when his pecs flexed. Every tiny movement tensed another solid muscle somewhere on his body, and I longed to touch every single one. Meanwhile, he waited patiently. I didn’t know what I expected. It wasn’t like he’d yell at me. And if I didn’t want to do this, I could walk out. But some sadistic part of me was desperate to be that close to a man I undoubtedly could never have.

  Nikki hesitated; Diamond owned it.

  9

  Ryker

  I didn’t think she’d go through with it, and the deer-in-the-headlights sheen that glistened in her eyes all but confirmed it. Then as quickly as it had arrived, the reluctance disappeared. The fierce demeanor she maintained on stage worked its way from the top of her head, down her spine as she straightened it, and to her toes. Determination set in where hesitation had been. The blue-grey turned to sapphires when she met my stare. I’d swear they were so clear I could see through them.

  Everything about this woman surprised the hell out of me. She hadn’t cowered behind me when she’d seen her apartment, she didn’t back down from Sam and Jesse, and when she set her mind to see something through, she did. Maybe she compartmentalized the hell out of her life; I didn’t know. All I could be certain of was she faced every challenge head-on. Her standing in front of me now was just further proof.

  I hadn’t planned for her to actually dance; in fact, that had been the only way I’d gotten into the room without a watchdog. My intention remained to keep her out of harm’s way. On the floor, not only was she exposed to grabby fuckers, but she could be blindsided by anything that came through the door. And while she’d learned to keep her head down, I didn’t think that ne
cessarily translated to her being street smart. If she were, she would have let her mom face her own demons and stayed the fuck away from the likes of Jesse.

  Her hips swayed as they found the beat to the music another performer used on stage. Nikki kept her eyes trained on mine, except it wasn’t really Nikki who stood before me in nothing other than a G-string and combat boots. She’d escaped into Diamond to pull off this hat trick. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that she did it each time she took the stage. The edgy, angry girl stomping out her routines while she removed her clothes wasn’t Nikki at all, yet it represented everything she had to hide in the real world…every raw and gritty emotion.

  It was hard to determine which personality I’d prefer to have in front of me. I understood the necessity for both, and while Diamond was hot as sin, Nikki had a more subtle confidence that I found intriguing. As much as I wanted to let my eyes wander and feel the experience she bestowed upon me, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other than maintain eye contact.

  Diamond worked the small space, and if I hadn’t known better, I would have believed she was a pro, or at the very least had a lot of dance background. She was seductive and alluring, sexy without being trashy, and obviously enjoying the show she put on. Her hands landed on the outsides of my knees, and she slid me forward, opening up my lap. Once she’d given me her back, I allowed my sight to drift down her thin neck to her lean shoulders. Each vertebra of her fluid spine poked at her skin when she moved. I couldn’t resist settling my hands on her hips, just above the tiny strings that kept her front hidden yet exposed her rear end. Each curve was a delicate contrast to the persona she strutted on stage. Even her ass had a supple roundness that was soft and inviting.

  She spread her legs and came closer, leaving no room between the two of us. I had no idea how her thighs didn’t burn with slightly bent knees, or how she moved so slowly it was almost imperceptible to the naked eye. But as her hips undulated over my lap, my cock responded. There was zero possibility she couldn’t feel my length between her lips, even with jeans between us. I was rock hard, and I’d bet if I reached down, she’d be wet. Her arousal hit my nostrils, and instinctively, my fingertips dug into her flesh.