Trouble

by Sasha White

  Her knees buckled, but Val held her up, not stopping his attentions or giving her a chance to recover. Just when she was getting ready to beg him to stop, he shifted. His hand left her clit, a finger thrust deep inside her, and his tongue brushed lightly over her puckered rear hole. Her body jerked in response and he chuckled.

  “So sensitive. I love that in a woman,” he murmured.

  “Never… Nobody’s…ever…done that to me before.” She forced the words out before a moan of pleasure ripped through her. She was hypersensitive.

  “Hmmm,” he hummed, sending small vibrations through her.

  “Val…”

  Another hum from him, another shudder ripping through her.

  “Val…please.”

  She wasn’t even aware of the words leaving her mouth. All she knew was that she wanted—she needed—more.

  She continued to mutter, to beg and arch her back. She spread her legs farther as his hand rubbed faster, two fingers sinking deeper inside her as his tongue swirled around her back entrance until she snapped. “Val! Fuck me, damn it!”

  “All you had to do was ask, baby.”

  Cool air flowed over her heated skin when he stood back. She heard nothing but the pounding of hot blood rushing through her veins until his hands once again gripped her hips and the head of his cock slid along her cleft.

  “Yes!”

  He thrust true, filling her up. With no hesitation he pumped fast and hard. His belly slapped against her ass and her breasts bounced as she braced herself against the window, reveling in his complete possession of her. Her insides spasmed and he groaned, so she deliberately tightened her inner muscles and thrust back against him again.

  “God, you’re hot!” he muttered.

  One hand left her hip to slide over her belly and cup a swinging breast. He tugged at the edge of her stretch velvet tank until she spilled over the neckline of her top and filled his hand. After a quick squeeze he focused on the nipple and pumped his hips harder…faster…harder. He slid his other low over her belly until his fingers landed on her clit and she went off in his arms.

  Every muscle in her body tensed and a scream ripped from her throat, his guttural grunt of release mixing with hers.

  * * *

  Val fought to get his breath back, the sporadic spasming of Samair’s cunt still massaging his softening cock and making his knees weak. Christ, that felt good!

  His head fell forward to rest between her shoulders. The fact that she was still trembling in his arms and panting herself made him feel ten feet tall. This young, adventurous, wild thing was just what he needed after a marriage to a cold-hearted bitch who had gotten off on using his dick to control him.

  In this new arrangement with Samair Jones, he was definitely the more experienced of the two, and he liked it that way.

  “Val?”

  The softly spoken query had him straightening up sharply. “Right here, babe.” He stifled a groan as he pulled away from her soft warmth.

  When she didn’t speak again he cupped her shoulders and pulled her up and back against his chest. She really was something. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek, heard her sigh as she snuggled back against him and they both looked out over the crowd through the window.

  That was when he saw Vera.

  What the fuck was his ex-wife doing there?

  11

  Anger rushed through him and he bit back a curse.

  Samair must’ve sensed his abrupt mood change because she stiffened and pulled out of his arms. “Is there a washroom in here?”

  He pointed to the far corner and she headed in that direction without looking at him. When she was gone he strode to the little bar, grabbed a cocktail napkin and got rid of the condom. He washed his hands in the bar sink, and tamped down his emotions. Up until a minute ago, he’d almost forgotten about his problems.

  Samair came back into the room and leaned on the bar top, a sparkle in her eye. “So, Val, what next?”

  He blinked.

  He loved her straightforwardness. Game playing wasn’t anything he was interested in outside the bedroom, and it seemed they were on the same wavelength. “You tell me.”

  “I haven’t decided on my next fantasy yet, but I can tell you one thing. I don’t want it to happen in this club again.”

  He chuckled with her. It was great to be able to talk so openly with a woman. She made him feel almost…lighthearted. “You don’t like my club?”

  “I love your club.” She shrugged and her breasts jiggled slightly. He really should’ve paid more attention to those breasts when he had the chance. “But I can never be… I think I’ve just decided what my next fantasy is, and I really don’t think this is the place for it.”

  “You going to tell me what it is?”

  Little white teeth nibbled on her bottom lip, making him want to run his tongue over it soothingly. She saw where he was looking and her eyes sparkled. “No. I think the surprise should be part of the fantasy. I get to plan it all. You just need to provide a private place for it to happen, and go with it when I begin.”

  That piqued his interest.

  But he really needed to get out on the floor and find out what the hell Vera was doing there. He pulled a business card from his pocket, wrote his private number on the back, and handed it to her. “Call me when you’re ready. I’ll make it happen. For now, I need to get back to work.”

  The light in her eyes dimmed slightly, and he squashed a pang of regret.

  God knew he didn’t want to cut things short with Samair. If anything, the yen to spend more time with her was growing. But Vera was out in the club and he couldn’t let himself get distracted. If his ex-wife was around, trouble was brewing.

  “You got it.” Samair tucked his card into her corset and shot him a saucy wink.

  They left the private room and he stopped her from walking away with a hand on her elbow. He couldn’t help himself. “Next time you wear a skirt like that, don’t wear any underwear.”

  Samair tilted her head up at him and the spark was back in her baby blues. “Ohh, I like that.”

  He watched her hips swing and her skirt swish as she walked away, blending into the crowd. When he finally tore his eyes from the hypnotizing sight, Vera was standing in front of him.

  The bitch always did have radar where he was concerned. There had been a time when he’d thought that meant they were soul mates. Now he knew it just meant she was a manipulative, controlling…

  He sucked in a deep breath. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—let her get to him.

  “Vera.”

  “Valentine. How are you, sweetheart? Playing with one of your little groupies I see.” She flicked her hand in the direction Samair had went in, her voice the bored tone that told him she was deliberately trying to get under his skin. She knew he hated apathy in any form.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “He never was one for good manners,” she said to the poser at her side before giving Val a tight smile. “I thought it was time to bring Peter down and show him the club since he’ll be running it after I buy it.”

  “It’s not for sale.”

  “But it will be once the bank forecloses.” Her painted lips lifted in a victorious smile. “And when it goes up for sale, I’m going to buy it. Peter here is going to run it for me.”

  “You’re counting your eggs before they hatch, Vera. You never did learn that you can’t always have everything you want.”

  “Pooh.” She stepped closer and put a cold hand on his chest. “I think we both know I always get what I want. I got you, didn’t I?”

  Savage pleasure had him reminding her. “But you couldn’t keep me.”

  Her eyes narrowed and he waited to see if she’d lose her cool. When she didn’t respond to his comment he gave her a confident smile of his own. “Risqué will never be for sale, you’d be better off to forget about me and my club, and just move on.”

  She leaned in and for a split second her inner ugliness was c
lear on her carefully made up face. “You loved this bar more than you ever loved me, and for that, I’m taking it from you. You never should’ve walked away from me, Valentine. You’re going to regret it.”

  She swept past him, up the stairs with her young stud close on her heels. His muscles locked and he stayed in place, motionless for several minutes. It wasn’t that he couldn’t move, it was that he didn’t want to go back upstairs until he was sure the bitch had left the building.

  He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Karl nothing would distract him from his goal. With the money Karl had given him that night, Val now only needed another fifty grand to pay off the mortgage on the building that housed Risqué, and shut down his bitch of an ex-wife’s latest effort to hurt him.

  He could try and hunt down investors, but it would take time he didn’t have. Then there was the fact that the only person he trusted to invest and not try to take over was Karl.

  Karl alone understood just how much Risqué meant to him, and why.

  Vera obviously knew it was important, too, or the bitch wouldn’t have pulled some strings to get the bank to foreclose three years early in an effort to take it from him. He should’ve listened to Karl during the divorce. Making it clear that the club was the only thing important to him had backfired.

  * * *

  Whoever the attractive brunette was, Val was not happy to see her. Why that made Samair just a little giddy was something she didn’t want to think about too much.

  Locked in place, she watched as the seductress sashayed away from Val and up the stairs. She was beautiful, and she moved in a way that said she knew it, and expected all eyes to be on her. Most eyes were on her, but not Val’s. Outwardly, he looked like he was simply watching the room, but something told Samair he was angry.

  Very angry.

  Part of her wanted to go to him, to soothe the tension from his shoulders, but the other part of her—the intelligent part—had her turning on her heel and heading for the dancers booth. Fast.

  She’d just gotten away from a life full of complications and entanglements she didn’t need. Now was not the time to let herself think that this affair with Val could ever be more than a good time. And good times meant no getting wrapped up in each others business.

  “Sammie!”

  Samair’s head snapped up as she pushed past the trio of women fawning over Rob. Jumping up from her chair Joey shook her finger at Samair. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”

  “Maybe.” Heat crept up her neck and Samair fought a grin. “What do you think you saw?”

  Joey grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the table. “Did you just hook up with Val?”

  “Uhmm, if by hook up you mean did I just bend over and let him fuck me good, then yes, I hooked up with him.”

  “Samair!” Joey’s jaw dropped. Her expression one of shock and awe with a little bit of dismay thrown in.

  “Hang on, I need a drink.” She waved at the waitress nearby and ordered a Diet Coke. She felt plenty good all over so there was no need for alcohol. Plus, she had a date for breakfast with her brother the next day. Getting up early for that was going to be hell enough without adding a hang over to it.

  The waitress walked away and Samair met Joey’s gaze. There was no reason why she shouldn’t tell Joey what had happened the first night she was there. The only reason she hadn’t told her already was because she’d be so focused on the design thing. Better late than never.

  “When I went to thank him for the free drinks last week I sort of propositioned him.”

  “And he took you up on it tonight?”

  “Actually, he took me up on it then.” She held up her hand sharply when Joey’s moth opened. “I didn’t say anything because we crashed as soon as we got home, and the next day we had other things to talk about. It slipped my mind.”

  “How the hell could something like that slip your mind?” Joey’s voice rose an octave.

  “I don’t know. My life was kinda turned upside down that night.” Samair bit her tongue and tried again—without the sarcasm. “I had other things to think about. Why is this a big deal? It’s just sex, and I know you’re not a prude.”

  “Sammie, it’s Valentine Ward. Never mind that I work for him, he’s…well…he’s got a bit of a reputation.”

  “For being a player?” He hadn’t struck her that way.

  “No. As someone you don’t want to fuck with.” Joey’s green eyes were bright with concern. “I’ve been dancing here for almost three years and I know nothing more about him now that the day I first set foot in here. He’s here almost every night, but rumor has it he’s connected with the Hells Angels or something.”

  A biker bad boy. That didn’t surprise her. “So? It’s not like we’re falling in love or anything. It’s. Just. Sex.”

  Very good, very hot, addictive animalistic sex, but still just sex.

  “Just—”

  The waitress appeared with Samair’s drink and Joey closed her mouth so fast Samair heard her teeth snap together. She paid for her drink, but before either of them could say anything else Tara and Kelly came racing up to them.

  “There you are!”

  “We’ve been looking everywhere for you two!”

  Joey rolled her yes and turned to the newcomers. “What’s up?”

  “We want outfits too!” Tara squealed.

  “Sammie, will you make us ones too? Just like Joey’s?” Kelly spoke up. “I want mine to be fire-engine red, though.”

  The two girls continued to spit out questions and instructions like gunfire while Joey pulled Samair into a quick hug. And whispered a soft warning. “I know you can be a bit wild at times, but just be careful with Val, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  12

  Samair worked her ass off for the next four days.

  She drew up designs for the two dancers, went fabric shopping, and began to put the outfits together. Then there was the fittings and design of Joey’s velvet pants, which were giving her fits. Somehow they had to be comfortable and still sexy enough for a cage dancer. Joey would’ve been happy with a short skirt, but Samair’s vision of the outfit was with the pants, so she was determined to make it work.

  “What about shorts?” Joey asked over the music from where she stood at the breakfast bar, chopping veggies to stow in the fridge.

  Life had fallen into a comfortable pattern for them in the last week. Joey would leave early to spend her days teaching dance classes and either bring home takeout, or cook dinner for them both when she got home. In exchange for Joey taking care of dinner every day, Samair cleaned.

  “Those leather shorts you have would work,” Kelly commented as she reached over and snagged a carrot stick.

  “Stand still, Kelly.” Samair was standing in front of the girl trying to put the finishing touches on the outfit for her.

  Samair kept the small studio apartment very neat and tidy, and did the dishes every day while Joey was at work. But, no matter how clean and neat the place was, it was still extremely crowded with all of Samair’s sewing stuff; even more so when Tara and Kelly came by for their fittings.

  Joey had put the stereo on and broken out a couple of bottles of wine, and the apartment had taken on a bit of a work-party atmosphere. It was relaxing and comfortable in a way that Samair hadn’t felt since she’d last lived with Joey, when they were college roommates.

  “Sammie made those for me a couple years ago. They’ve held up real well.”

  “Yeah, but I see that fringe bra with velvet pants. I can’t help it, it’s the vision.” Maybe she could put a slit up each leg, one that went to above the knee and decorate them with faux diamonds.

  “Oh. My. God!” Tara whipped the bathroom door open and stalked into the room.

  “Turn around. Come closer.” Kelly ordered from her standing position on the footstool. “Damn, that is hot.”

  “Isn’t it awesome?” Tara danced around the room in her new outfit and everyone watched. The materi
al was a faux leather in a rich brown that set off the blonde’s coloring.

  Long sleeves fitted snug to her arms and the material stayed tight to her body as it cupped her large breasts and buttoned together between them, leaving a deep cleavage that drew the eye downward, over her flat tummy to where the tiny miniskirt hung perfectly on her slim hips. The skirt just skimmed the top of her thighs, with a slit over the left one to flash the high cut velvet panties that covered enough of the dancer’s butt to keep things at the delicious tease level.

  It was her Latin ballroom inspired version of a club dancer’s outfit. “Joey told me you were a bit of an exhibitionist so I figured that would suit your style and still give you great movement. Think it’ll work?”

  “It’s perfect!” Tara gave her a bear hug. “I can’t wait to hit the club tonight. I’m going to give every guy there a hard-on!”

  They laughed. Samair tuned out the chatter as she went back to working on the waistband of Kelly’s skirt.

  Joey turned up the stereo and pointed to Tara. “Give us a dance, girl!”

  The small apartment was full of sisterly camaraderie as Tara and Joey danced around amidst the music and jokes.

  “Don’t move!” Samair steadied the pin in her hand and warned Kelly to stop her eager bouncing. The cut of the skirt dipped down very low in front, and if the girl wasn’t careful she was going to end up with a new piercing in a very delicate place. She put the final pins in place and stepped back.

  “Okay, Kelly. Take it off very carefully, and I’ll finish it off so you can take it home tonight.”

  “Tonight? It’ll be ready tonight?”

  “Yup.”

  When Samair had named the price for custom made outfits she’d gone high, expecting the girls to barter, but they hadn’t blinked. They’d sent the money home with Joey the next night and Samair had been determined to get the outfits perfect, and ready for the weekend so they could help spread the word about Trouble.