One And Done

by Cynthia Sax

  “You’d fuck me while I was sleeping?” Why does this arouse me?

  “Would you rather I jack off and come over your tits?”

  “Hmmm…” This is a tough decision. “I suppose I have to choose one?” Damn men and their need for recovery time.

  Smoke grins. “I would never try this relationship business with anyone else, you know that, right, Jenella?”

  I suck in my breath. That’s as close as an ‘I love you’ statement as I might ever get from my die-hard player. “I know that.” I smile up at him. “This will last, Smoke. Trust me.”

  He bends over, brushes his lips over mine, saying nothing. I touch his face. He doesn’t yet believe in us, in the possibility of love, but I’ll change that.

  “See you later, alligator.” Smoke turns, walks away.

  “In a while, crocodile,” I call after him.

  He chuckles.

  ***

  As predicted, I fall asleep. The refrain from Age Of Aquarius wakes me. I scramble for my phone, find it in my tote, look down at the screen. There’s a message.

 

  Edward wants me back. I know this in my soul.

  He doesn’t desire my company because he loves me, because he can’t live without me. Either his mother told him he must fix things with me or Chelsea finally did something so immature or dramatic, he can’t forgive her.

  He’s thinking with his brain, not from the heart.

 

  She must have been waiting for my reply, because I receive her response seconds later.

 

  I sigh, envisioning all of the get-Azure-out-of-jail-free cards I’ve earned evaporating

  Azure didn’t ever hide her hostility toward Edward. She was vocal about him from the start, not liking his career, his clients, his car.

  Smoke, in contrast, hasn’t yet incurred any derision from my friend. She has cautioned me about his player status and that’s all.

  This is surprising, as Smoke drives a Lamborghini. According to Azure, sports cars are shiny symbols of everything wrong with our materialistic, need-everything-quickly, environment-shredding society.

  She hasn’t made one comment about his car.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A knock on the door interrupts my rather heated online discussion with my boss about interest rates. Someone must be looking for Smoke. “He’s not here,” I yell.

  “I know that,” Smoke answers. “Are you decent?”

  “I’m dressed.” I grin. “I doubt I’ll ever be decent again. You’ve corrupted me.”

  He doesn’t laugh. The door opens and Smoke enters. His face is grim, his lips flat, his eyes hard. He’s pissed off.

  Then I see who is following him and I understand why.

  Edward, my ex, is here.

  “Edward, didn’t Azure say I’d call you?” I stand, not-at-all happy with this ambush. “I’m busy. I have shit to do.”

  “I love you, Jenella.” Edward widens his pale blue eyes. He’s dressed in one of his dark suits, looking like the man I once dated. “I made a mistake, a terrible mistake. I realize that now.”

  “I’ll give you your privacy.” Smoke’s jaw clenches even more.

  “No, you won’t.” I hurry to his side and grasp his right wrist, preventing him from leaving. He needs to hear this as much as Edward does. “We’re a team now, player. We face situations together.”

  “We’re not a team.” Smoke forces these words through gritted teeth. “You heard Eddy. The jackass finally realizes he loves you. He wants you back.”

  “Hey,” Edward protests.

  “Smoke—”

  “No.” Smoke strides to the not-yet-restocked half empty display of liquor bottles lining the wall behind his desk and he picks up a beautiful blue glass bottle of vodka. “No.” He throws it to the floor. The bottle shatters. Pieces fly everywhere. “No. No. No.” He destroys three more bottles, depleting his collection even more.

  “Stop it.” I slip on my shoes, pick my way through the glass-and-alcohol-slickened carnage. “It doesn’t matter what Edward realizes. I—”

  “Fuck.” Smoke’s fingers curl around the neck of a cherry rum bottle. “I knew I’d end up hurting.” He flings the bottle at the far wall. Glass smashes. Pink liquid drips down the drywall. “You were too fuckin’ good to be true.”

  “There’s no need for this.” I wrap my arms around Smoke. He doesn’t move, doesn’t hold me. His emotions are as jagged and as sharp as the tattoo on his neck. “I want—”

  “You want him. He won’t treat you the way you should be treated, baby.” Smoke shakes, gripping another bottle. “He won’t live for your too-early-in-the-Goddamn-morning phone calls. He won’t jack off to the sound of your voice. Eddy hasn’t fucked hundreds of beautiful women. He doesn’t know that you’re one in a million, that he’ll never meet another woman like you the rest of his fuckin’ life, that years from now, he’ll look back at the short time he spent with you and know it was the only time he was truly fuckin’ happy.”

  Oh my God. I gaze up at him, my heart swelling with emotion. “I love you.”

  Gold flames blaze in Smoke’s eyes. “But you love Eddy more. You always have.”

  “I never have, not even in the beginning.” I curl my fingers over my club owner’s fingers, steadying the bottle he’s holding. “I really liked Edward. I thought it was love. Then I met you and I realized what love truly was.” I guide his hand down, setting the bottle back on the shelf. “Even when my head said to leave you alone, I couldn’t stop calling you, couldn’t let you go.”

  “You were a pain in the ass.” Smoke’s death grip on the bottle eases.

  “It was love, what we had, Jenella.” Edward interrupts our moment. “You loved me then and you’ll love me again. You—”

  “Shut up, Eddy.” My gaze doesn’t move from Smoke’s face. “I’m speaking to the man I love.” I use the word again, knowing he needs to hear it. “I love you, Smoke.” I peel his fingers away from the glass and move his palm to my chest, pressing it over my heart. “This is all yours, player.”

  “You’re giving me your left tit?” Smoke lowers his hand and cups my breast. My nipples tighten.

  “I was referring to my heart.” I roll my eyes. “But you can have my left tit too.”

  He covers both breasts. “Your tits are magnificent.” He squeezes them.

  “They belong to you.” I arch into his hands. “Forever. Now that I’ve decided I’m your girl, you’ll never get rid of me.” I smile. “You know how stubborn I can be.”

  “He’ll cheat on you.” Edward adds his unwanted opinion. “When I arrived at the club, women were hanging on to him, rubbing against him.”

  “They were girls, not women, and I’m not you, Eddy.” Smoke sounds disgusted. “When I make a commitment, I keep it. I would never cheat on Jenella.”

  I stare at him.

  This isn’t one day at a time for my player. He’s made a commitment to me.

  A commitment.

  “The girls hanging on to me are occupational hazards.” Smoke gazes at me, his expression solemn. “You own me, baby. I’ll never stick my dick in anyone else.”

  His crude vow melts my heart. “I know you won’t and I understand about the girls. Your role requires flirting with them, making them feel sexy.” That’s not much different from my job at Powers Corporation. I have to suck up to business tenants. “I trust you.”

  “Because that’s what love is—believing in another person, trusting him or her with your heart, your dreams, your tomorrows.” Smoke repeats what I told him the first day we met. “I’ll take good care of your heart.” He pauses. “And your tits.”

  I laugh. “I’m counting on that.”

  “I’m still here,” Edward wh
ines.

  “There’s no need for you to be here.” I turn to face my ex. “I like you, Edward. I hope we can be friends. And I’ll always be grateful to you for introducing me to Smoke.” I squeeze my club owner’s hand. “But I don’t love you and you deserve to be with someone who cares for you as much as I care for Smoke.”

  “It won’t last,” Edward grumbles.

  “Maybe it won’t.” I suspect it will. People like Smoke and Woofer are slow to care but when they finally take that leap, they don’t look back. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. I’d rather have one day filled with wonderful than a lifetime of okay.”

  “I filled you with wonderful a few hours ago.” Smoke grins.

  I grin back at him. “You’re a pig.” My gaze returns to Edward. “We’ll walk you out before this conversation deteriorates any more.”

  “That’s not possible.” My ex is sullen. That’s not a good look for a grown-ass man.

  Smoke’s smile widens. He links his fingers with mine and opens the door. Lucy, Tyrice and Bruiser are waiting outside the office.

  “The patrons in line are growing impatient, Mr. Sheridan.” Tyrice is the first to speak.

  “They’re fighting,” Smoke rumbles in my ear.

  “And there’s champagne flowing in the VIP ladies room,” Lucy adds.

  “A girl is puking her guts out.” His translation is meant for me alone.

  “Go.” I push on his right shoulder. “Manage those situations. I’ll see Edward out.”

  Smoke’s gaze flicks to my ex. I see the uncertainty in his eyes.

  “You’ll never get rid of me, player.” I give him the assurance he needs.

  “You’re a tenacious bitch.” The lines around his mouth ease. “Don’t get any ideas, Eddy.” Smoke bumps against my ex as he passes him. “She’s mine.”

  I walk with Edward through the crowded club. Kids gyrate to the beat. The music is too loud to talk over. I’m grateful for this, not wanting to hear pleas for second chances or explanations of why he cheated on me.

  Finding out about Edward’s affair was the best thing that ever happened to me. It brought me to Smoke, introducing me to the man I now love.

  Edward follows me into the back parking lot. The thump, thump, thump of the bass quiets to a whisper. The warm night air sweeps over my skin. The scent of fuel and French fries fills my nostrils.

  “Jenella.”

  “Go home, Edward.” I have nothing left to say to him.

  “I’m not going home.” He grabs my right wrist. “Not without you. You owe us another chance.”

  “Don’t touch me.” I yank my body away from his. “I don’t owe you—”

  “Miss ‘Nella.” Woofer steps out of the shadows. The boy’s eyes are hard, his stance threatening. The street lights reflect off the steel pipe he’s clasping.

  Edward glances at the makeshift weapon and steps back from me. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

  “No, we won’t.” I’m speaking to his back. My ex has beaten a hasty retreat, scared off by a kid. I shift my gaze to Woofer. “Put the pipe away. Mr. Sheridan won’t like that you’re threatening guests.”

  “What do you care?” He tosses the pipe to the side. Metal clinks against pavement. “You’re leaving him too.”

  I stifle my sigh. “I’m not leaving Mr. Sheridan and I’m not leaving you. You’re both stuck with me forever.”

  “You don’t mean that.” Woofer crosses his scrawny arms.

  “I mean every word.”

  “You don’t.” The boy scowls. “Mr. Sheridan needs you. He might not say it. He might call you names and treat you badly but he does. You’re the only person he has, the only person who cares about him.”

  We’re no longer talking about Smoke. We’re talking about Woofer and his feelings. I sit on the bench positioned by the door, the wooden slats bending under my weight. “I’m not going anywhere, Woofer.” I’ll repeat this as often as he needs to hear it.

  The boy lowers his non-existent ass to the far side of the bench. “You’ll give up on him. Like the others did.” He glances at me and then at the car parked in front of him.

  I get the message. I scoot down to his end of the bench, put my arm around him and hug him close to my body. “I’m not very good at giving up on people.”

  The boy squirms. I don’t release him.

  “You gave up on him.” He flings his hands in the direction Edward walked.

  “He gave up on me first.” I sacrifice my pride to ease Woofer’s fears. “And even then, I held on. But I didn’t love him, not the way I love Mr. Sheridan and not the way I love you.” I lean over and smack my lips against the boy’s greasy forehead.

  “Don’t.” Woofer shoots out of his seat. He doesn’t go far, standing two steps away, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets, his chest rising and falling. “No kissing.”

  “No kissing.” For now, I mentally amend. “Come back here.” I pat the wooden slats.

  He eyes me. “You’ll kiss me again.”

  “No, I won’t,” I promise. “Not today.”

  “Not ever.” Woofer returns, slumping on the bench. “You’re old. Old people shouldn’t kiss anyone.”

  “Is hugging okay?” I wrap my arms around him and squeeze.

  “No.” He elbows me in the stomach, putting up his token protest. Woofer is wiry but strong. He could free himself from my grip if he wanted to.

  He doesn’t want to escape. The kid likes being hugged.

  “Did you see any nice cars tonight?” I switch to his favorite topic.

  This distraction works. Woofer settles, leaning against me. He relays all of the makes and models he’s seen, giving me an endless stream of specs.

  I listen, staring up at the sky. The lights from the city prevent me from seeing the stars but I know they’re there, as I know Woofer needs and cares for me, as much as his boss does.

  Moments pass. I don’t know how many.

  The door blasts open and bangs against the wall, startling both of us. Smoke appears on the threshold, his eyes wild, his face hard.

  Seeing his boss, Woofer squeaks with alarm and darts into the darkness.

  I let him go. I have another male to reassure.

  “You’re here,” Smoke states, his voice raw with emotion. “I thought—.”

  “I know what you thought.” I won’t make him say the words. “I’m a tenacious bitch, remember?”

  “You won’t let me forget.” He kicks the door shut and slides onto the bench beside me, pressing his thigh against mine. His body heat and woodsy scent engulf me. “I spotted Woofer. Is Eddy’s car still in one piece?”

  “Woofer would never damage a car. He loves them too much.” I smile. “For a couple of minutes, I was worried for Edward’s health but Woofer restrained himself.” The boy inflicts damage with his words, not his fists. “Did you handle your situations?”

  “They’re handled. For now.” Smoke gazes down at me.

  I gaze up at him.

  The moment stretches.

  His lips curl upward. “Guess if you’re sticking around, I should put you to work.”

  He’s trusting me with his business. Warmth spreads across my chest. “I’ve always wanted to see the VIP ladies room.”

  “The next round of holding a girl’s hair while she vomits is yours, then.” Smoke squeezes my hip. “I lead a fuckin’ glamorous life, don’t I?”

  “It’s an exciting life.” I laugh. “How long until the next round?”

  “Mere minutes.” He shakes his head. “We have four bachelorette parties tonight. So we shouldn’t waste time.”

  Smoke leans over, captures my face between his palms, and brushes his lips against mine. I open to him. He strokes inside me with his tongue, tempting, teasing me. I grasp his shoulders, clinging to him, enthralled by his touch.

  The door opens. “Mr. Sheridan?” The voice is female. “Sir?”

  We groan.

  The next round starts now.

 
; Chapter Twenty-Six

  Hours later, I’m helping Dakota, a very drunk and very famous actress, into the club limousine. “Your publicist should be here soon.” I hope. I sent Lucy to find the girl’s missing handler a half hour ago.

  “Don’t leave me.” Dakota grips my arm. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  “I’ll stay with you.” I meet Bruiser’s gaze as I enter the limo. He nods and closes the door behind us. “You won’t be alone.”

  Dakota might be gorgeous and talented and thin but she has the same issues everyone else has. Her asshat of a boyfriend broke up with her, telling her he preferred a woman with more curves. She’s filming in a strange city, has no family and very few friends here.

  “Goodie.” The girl rests her blonde head on my shoulder. My pale-pink suit is smudged and smells like alcohol. Most of the night has been spent caring for inebriated guests. “You remind me of my momma. You’re so soft and squishy.”

  I hide my wince against her hair. That has been a common theme tonight. I remind club kids of their moms or aunts or, in the case of one barely legal girl, her grandmother.

  Woofer is right. I am ancient.

  “I miss her, you know,” Dakota mumbles. “My momma.”

  “Then call her.” I hug her closer to me.

  “It’s too late at night to call her.”

  “She’s your mom.” And the girl is young, having recently turned nineteen. “She won’t mind.” If I was Dakota’s age and visiting a faraway city, my mom wouldn’t be sleeping. She’d be too worried about me. “Moms like to hear from their baby girls. It doesn’t matter what time it is.”

  Dakota gazes at me, her beautiful green eyes wide. “She said the same exact thing when I left. But I don’t think she meant this late. It’s two in the morning.”

  It’s closer to three in the morning. No one wanted to leave the club tonight. “My mom says she often wakes up at this time.” I share. “When I was a baby, I’d cry, wanting a two a.m. feeding, and her body has never forgotten that.”

  “I could call my momma.” Dakota snuggles into my side. “If she’s sleeping, she won’t pick up.”

  I bet her mom will answer. I kiss the girl’s forehead. My mom never turns her ringer off. She worries I won’t be able to contact her in case of an emergency. “You—”