Trouble with the Fake Boyfriend (The Rock Bottom Series Book 3)

by Holly Renee

  It was a day just like any other. The smell of smoke and overly sweet perfume clung to my skin as I walked in the door. With the click of the latch, the world outside disappeared and I entered a world of mystery, lust and skin.

  My steps were calculated and confident as I made my way over to my station, but my hands shook as I began rimming my eyes in coal black. It was easy to fool everyone else, too easy, but fooling myself was impossible. I searched my reflection for a trace of the innocence that once lay there. But all traces of the girl I used to know were gone.

  Delicate black lace encased my breasts, a sharp contrast against my pale skin, and it would have looked beautiful if men weren’t going to be yelling at me to take it off within the next few minutes. In a different situation, in a different life, I probably would have liked the feel of the soft fabric against my skin, but in this life, it was suffocating. It was a gentle reminder of what I had become, and it burned my skin like a brand.

  I watched all the girls in the room as they put on their facade. Each one of them had a different story that led them here. It wasn’t a choice many people made without reason. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know what brought me to this point, but fuck, I hated thinking about it. Not because my story was one of tragedy, but it was one of heartbreak. I let a man destroy me, and as a result, I became a coward.

  “Liv, you’re up doll,” Mark called from the silk curtain before smiling at me.

  Mark was sleazy, but he was nice to me. I bought his kindness by making him the most money, but I’d take it either way. I had no friends in Atlanta. I had no family. They were all back in Tennessee, but I couldn’t think about Tennessee because it made me think of him. I couldn’t afford to think about him. It fucked with my head. It fucked with everything.

  I could feel the stares and hear the harsh whispers from the other girls as I walked by, but I didn’t care about their opinions of me. There was a time when I would have cared what they thought, but that was long gone. All that mattered now was that the men loved me, no one here was close enough to hurt me, and I would leave with a wad full of cash at the end of the night.

  “We’ve got a bachelor party in room one,” Mark read from his clipboard in front of him. “They’ve paid a lot of money, and I promised them our best.” He ran his chubby finger down my cheek, and I forced myself not to pull away from his touch. The smell of liquor and cheap aftershave choked me, but I hid my rush of nausea behind a fake smile that I had learned to master over the last few years. “You’ll start, then I’ll have some of the other girls join you.”

  Bachelor parties were one of my least favorite parts of this job. Tainted wasn’t some hole in the wall club where just anyone could walk in. It was elite and the men who walked through those doors were as well. They had expectations. They had specific tastes, and Tainted catered to those tastes.

  But bachelor parties?

  They were another beast.

  Men at bachelor parties were rowdy. Alcohol flowed, inhibitions were low, and the men were fueled by the idea of only being with one woman for the rest of their lives.

  I took a deep breath as I made my way to room one. Several men sat in the private room facing the stage where I would dance. Their eyes searched the black curtains waiting for me to appear as the lights in the room began to dim. Seduction was in the air, and I was the temptress.

  The strong beat of the music shook the stage below my feet as I got settled behind the curtain. My hands gripped the intricate black mask as I situated it over my eyes. Mark thought I wore it to give myself a more mysterious appeal, but I needed that mask. It was the only way I could build the courage to go up on stage. It kept me hidden. It kept me safe.

  On the outside, I looked like a sexy, confident woman, but on the inside, I was dying a little bit every time I went out on stage. But I could hide it. I had to.

  The song built and when I heard my cue to enter the stage, I took a deep breath, filling my lungs, and blew out all my nerves. I wasn’t Olivia Mae Conner anymore. I was Liv, and I ruled this stage.

  My black high heels shined in the spotlight as I walked out onto the small black platform. The men catcalled as soon as they saw me, but I attempted to block them out. I focused on the beat of “Shameless” by The Weeknd, my song, and I let the lyrics sink into me.

  My right hand met the pole at the center of the stage and the cold metal caused chill bumps to break out across my skin. Circling the pole slowly, I looked out into the room.

  Most of the men wore sharp suits that were perfectly pressed and exquisitely fit. Long cigars hung from their mouths and glasses full of their choice of poison sat in their hands.

  I made my way back around the front of the pole, and I quickly dropped down, my back against the cold metal, my thighs spread open, my body on display. I heard a few sharp inhales of breath, and I knew that I was doing my job. Hunger stared back at me in the eyes of the men that surrounded me.

  I rolled my hips as I began to stand, but my footing faltered when I looked into the pair of green eyes that were staring at me from the center of the room. Undeniable lust looked back at me.

  I blinked, my long eyelashes hitting my mask, and continued to dance. Standing, I bent at the hips and ran my hand down my leg. My hips rolled to the beat of the music, and my heart pounded at a much faster pace. He looked familiar to me, too familiar, but I couldn’t get a good enough look from where I danced. But as I glanced back out into the crowd, I couldn’t move my eyes away from him.

  He looked dangerous. He reminded me of a bad habit. He was something I knew I shouldn’t want, but I felt myself gravitating toward him regardless.

  There was barely an inch of his skin that wasn’t covered in tattoos. I couldn’t make out what they were in the dark lighting, but I could see his tattooed hand wrapped around a crystal glass with each knuckle marked with ebony ink.

  His gaze bore into me. He watched every swivel of my hips. He tracked my every move like a hunter ready to strike its prey.

  My body knew the music and moved without me putting in much thought. My hips rolled, my hands caressed, and the men in front of me ate it up as if I was their last meal.

  But I needed to get closer to him.

  The need to know where I knew him from was overpowering. I stepped off the stage but didn’t immediately make my way over to him. Instead, I took my time, giving each man in the room a closer look as I made my way to him. But I watched him. I searched the shadows that clouded his face for some resemblance of who he was.

  It wasn’t until I reached the man next to him that I truly got a good look. As soon as I took in his piercing green eyes, I knew why they looked so familiar to me. It was the same pair of eyes that had haunted my dreams for the last four years.

  Parker fucking James.

  From the way he was studying me, he thought he knew me as well, but he still hadn’t figured it out. The last time I saw him, I was nothing more than a girl. My body was different. My hair was different. Hell, I was a completely different person.

  I was no longer the girl with mousy brown hair and long gangly legs. I had finally figured out my body, and I was no longer ashamed of it. I didn’t have a hesitant touch that begged him to teach me what to do anymore. My moves were calculated and assertive.

  My hips rolled to the music and my knees brushed against his. I felt that small touch as if it had burned me. The flames licking up my legs and setting my entire body on fire.

  My fingers fell to his trouser covered thighs, and I gently pushed them apart. My body rolled against his out of habit, and the strong spicy scent of him surrounded me. It was reminiscent of the Parker I used to know, but he smelled so much better now. He smelled like a man.

  His hands lowered to the arms of the chair, and I watched his inked fingers as they clenched into fists. I flipped my hair against his chest and turned my back to him. I was practically sitting in his lap, and I took a shuddering breath while I had a momentary reprieve from him seeing my face.


  I could feel how turned on he was against my ass, and that little piece of information fueled me. Parker was always the one in control. He was the powerful one, but not tonight.

  My back pressed against his chest and my ass ground further against him as I rolled my body to the music. Fuck. He felt amazing.

  His chest heaved below me and his harsh breath rushed out against my neck. It reminded me of four years earlier when I had given myself to him willingly, when I had practically begged him to make love to me. I closed my eyes against the memory. Don’t think about it, Liv. Don’t let yourself go there.

  Leaning forward, I arched my back as I continued to grind against him. His hand ran up my spine, and a shiver chased his touch inch by inch.

  “No touching,” I whispered as I would to any other customer.

  His hand clenched against my skin before it fell away.

  “Take it off,” his deep, gruff voice called out, barely heard over the music.

  My trembling hands reached behind me and gripped the clasp of my bra. I could do this. Showing weakness in front of him wasn’t an option.

  My fingers pressed the fabric into my skin, but before I could release the hold of the clasp, Parker’s hand covered mine.

  His mouth leaned against my ear, and I almost died when I felt his warm breath rush out against my earlobe. “I meant the mask. Who are you?”

  Chills ran through my body at his question. I was no one. Not to him. Not anymore. So instead of answering him, I rolled my hips a final time and moved to the man beside him.

  He was still staring at me, and God, I wished I could move my eyes off him. I was on autopilot, moving through my routine without thought. But the feeling of a hand against the ribbon of my mask caused me to panic and search the face of the man in front of me as the mask fell to the floor.

  Shame took over every other thought as I heard my name leave his lips.

  “Livy?”

  There were sharp inhales of breath around us, but I didn’t dare move my gaze away from my brother’s.

  “Mason.”

  A glass crashed to the ground beside me, but I still didn’t move. I couldn’t face looking at Parker anymore. Not without my mask. He was too potent, and I needed to protect myself.

  “What the fuck are you thinking?” Mason roared as he gripped my arm. He pulled me to a standing position, and it wasn’t until that moment that I realized how naked I was in front of my brother. I covered my chest with my arms, but that only seemed to fuel his anger.

  “So this is why you’re too busy to come home? This is how busy you’ve been with your new job? You fucking lied to me.” His eyes were black as the night sky as anger filled him.

  His fingers dug into my skin as I watched the bouncer make his way over to us.

  “Mason, you’re hurting me,” I whispered.

  His fingers instantly loosened their grip, but he still held me close to him.

  The bouncer, Hank, reached out for me, but Parker stepped in front of him.

  “You need to move,” Hank threatened. “I’m taking her out of here.” He nodded his head in my direction.

  “Over my dead body.” The sound of Parker’s voice stirred something inside me, and I had to remind myself that he was the same boy that broke my heart.

  “It’s okay, Hank.”

  Parker’s back straightened and my brother pulled me closer to him, his body shielding mine.

  “He’s my brother.” I pointed to Mason, and I could see the shock in Hank’s eyes.

  “I need to get Mark.” He started heading toward the door, but I stopped him.

  “You think you can just give me a few minutes. I promise I will handle it.”

  He looked hesitant as his eyes bounced back and forth between me and my brother, but eventually gave in. “Five minutes then I’m coming back.”

  I nodded my head then he made his way back out of the room.

  “Why are you here?” I pulled my arm from my brother’s grip and looked around the room at the combination of accusation and lust staring back at me.

  “Why are we here?” Parker scoffed and ran his tattooed hands through his hair that had been perfectly styled before.

  “Are you kidding me, Livy? Why are you here?” My brother’s voice shook with fury.

  Parker’s name was on the tip of my tongue, but I knew that wasn’t fair. I couldn’t blame my decisions on him.

  “It’s my job, Mason. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Atlanta?”

  “When?” He threw his hands up in frustration. “You mean all those times I call you and you don’t answer. I called you today.”

  I didn’t have a response because he was right. I hated lying to him, so I avoided talking to him as much as I could.

  “You all need to leave.” I looked toward the door to make sure Hank wasn’t coming back. I didn’t want them to cause a scene. I couldn’t afford to lose my job.

  “We’re not leaving here without you.” It wasn’t the words that surprised me but who they came from.

  “You don’t have a say, Parker.” I stared up at him. He was still about six inches taller than me even in my heels and his green eyes were on fire.

  “He’s right,” Mason growled. “You are coming home.”

  I searched the room full of his friends who were all staring at us but pretending not to. I didn’t recognize any of them, and it hit me how far I had removed myself from my brother. I barely knew anything about him anymore.

  Wanting to go home with him wasn’t the problem. I just didn’t want to get hurt again. Parker had practically destroyed me once and being around him made my chest ache. I couldn’t risk losing myself to him again, but I couldn’t tell my brother that. I had been nothing more than Parker’s secret, and my brother would shit himself if he knew what happened. If he knew that Parker was the reason I ran.

  So instead of telling him, I put a smile on my face and tried to avoid the topic altogether.

  “Who’s getting married anyways?” I looked around the room again. Some of the guys were covered in tattoos like Parker and some looked clean cut like my brother.

  It wasn’t until my gaze landed back on the two men that my world used to revolve around that I realized how fucked I really was. All it took was one word from Parker’s lips.

  “Me.”

  Also by Holly Renee

  Where Good Girls Go to Die

  Where Bad Girls Go to Fall

  Where Bad Boys are Ruined

  The Wrong Prince Charming

  Trouble with the Guy Next Door

  Trouble with the Hotshot Boss

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to all the readers and bloggers! There are so many books to choose from these days, and I am beyond grateful that you chose to spend your time reading mine!

  If you have a moment, please take a minute to leave a rating or review on Amazon for Trouble with the Fake Boyfriend. Reviews help indie authors so much, and I would be incredibly grateful!

  XO,

  Holly Renee