by Jana Mercy
“Come being the key word?” he rasped.
“Most definitely. The door will be unlocked. Just slip on in.”
* * * * *
Not wanting to waste a second of his break, or take a chance on Joey interrupting him, Gray ran up the stairs. He’d convinced one of the other bartenders to cover so he could take a full thirty minutes. Still, thirty minutes would be rushing.
He twisted the handle, anticipation filling him as he entered Madame G’s apartment.
The fanciful, eclectic living room was empty. Where was Sophia?
“Gray?” she called from somewhere in the apartment. “Back here. In the bedroom.”
Madame G’s bedroom? His memories of the room had him picking up his pace. He pushed open the bedroom door and caught his breath at the sight that met him in the dim room.
The entire far wall wasn’t really a wall. A floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the club. Music from the club filtered in from built-in speakers at each side of the room. Other than the window the room looked exactly as a remembered.
He should have realized those mirrors provided Madame G a constant bird’s eye view of the stage.
Sophia stood, watching the current stripper sling his shirt into the audience. Her body swayed in rhythm to the beat. Hearing the door open, she turned to face him. The strobe lights from the club provided a colorful backdrop that paled in comparison to the woman smiling at him.
She wasn’t naked.
The irrational thought ran through his mind. But he wasn’t complaining. He drank in the sight of her black thigh high stockings, her lacy black garters, the sexy black scrap of material that rode low on her hips, the lacy number that concealed her breasts just enough to tease.
“Holy shit.”
She laughed. Soft. Musical. Enchanting. “You like?”
“Oh yeah.” His heart almost leaped out of his chest at the vision she made. A vision straight out of every man’s fantasy. His fantasy.
“I bought it earlier. That’s why I ran late getting back to the club.” She took a step toward him but he shook his head.
“Stay there.”
“Then get over here. You owe me a kiss.”
“A debt I’ll pay with interest.” He closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. He stroked his hands over her bare waist. “You are so damn sexy.”
“You make me feel that way.” She smiled at him. “Now, shut up and kiss me.”
“Yes ma’am.” His lips covered hers. The fruity flavor of her drink mixed with her natural flavor. An intoxicating blend.
Her hands smoothed over his shoulders and curved around his neck. She tugged on his bowtie, pulling him even closer. Her hips moved to the music, applying seductive pressure while she rubbed back and forth against his cock.
He kissed her mouth thoroughly, then covered her throat in kisses.
“Have I told you I love this outfit?” he breathed into the curve of her neck while his hands caressed her back.
“You can tell me again.” Her neck draped back, giving him access to the delicate flesh, which he took full advantage of.
One high-heeled foot ran up the length of his boot-covered calf. Sophia’s leg locked behind his and she shifted against his pelvis.
Her fingers skimmed down his back, making him aware of every muscle, every sinew. She cupped his buttocks, squeezing in a manner that, had he not already been rock-hard, her actions would have made him so.
“Help me unzip these.” Her fingers snaked under the edge of the silky shorts, sensitizing him further.
He dipped his head and sucked her nipple through the transparent black lace. “Once my shorts are unzipped, I’m going inside you. I want you burning for me before that happens.”
“You think I’m not burning?” Her pelvis ground against him suggestively. “You might want to check. ’Cause it sure feels like I’m on fire from where I’m standing. And it’s the best kind. Wet heat.”
Gray closed his eyes and thanked his lucky stars.
“You’re right. I should check.” Eyes locked with hers, he traced lightly over her skin, toyed with the black lace draped over her hips. Lower.
Every muscle in his body coiled into a tight spring.
Crotchless. She wore crotchless panties.
“You’re so hot.”
He groaned and pushed his finger further between her swollen feminine lips. “And wet.”
“Yes.” The word panted from her lips. She rotated her bottom against the movements of his fingers. She moaned and he increased the intensity of his thumb’s circles, caressing faster, harder. Eyes squeezed shut, her back arched and she bucked against his hand. Slick wetness dripped over his fingers. Oh yeah.
“Please.”
“Please what, Sophia?”
She told him. The coarse words coming from her lips tore his insides to bits.
“Look at me.”
She did.
He withdrew his fingers, licked the salty ambrosia in a manner similar to what she’d done with her drink while teasing him at the bar.
A soft mew escaped between her parted lips but she didn’t speak. Just grabbed hold of his shoulders and held on. He pushed the crotch as wide as it would go and tasted her.
Back and forth, he swept his tongue across her swollen nub until she squirmed against him. Continuing to drive her higher and higher with his mouth, he undid his boot enough to slide the condom free from where it rested between leather and calf.
She moaned and the packet slipped from his hand. Fumbling, he found it, unzipped his shorts and sheathed himself with the rubber.
He spun Sophia to where they both faced the window overlooking the club. Her hands pressed against the one-way glass, he held her hips and drove his cock into her dripping wet sex.
Faster. Harder. He felt wild, out of control while he thrust into her. Below them women danced, waved money and cheered the cowboy stripper on. The beat of Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive” sent shivers over his body. He pressed against the window above Sophia’s hands, pumping deeper and deeper.
No one could see them but still the sensation that they were having sex almost within plain view heightened the intensity.
“Oh God.” Sophia’s thighs quivered around him. Her body stiffened. Her spine arched. Soft cries ebbed from her throat.
He loved making her come. With his mouth. His fingers. His cock. Fire built within his loins, flames licked outward until he exploded in a volcanic rush.
“Oh. My. God,” she repeated, her head falling back to rest against his shoulder. “I saw fireworks go off.”
Gray grinned and kissed the side of her head. “And just think, I’ve still got another ten minutes before I have to go downstairs.”
Chapter Twelve
Listening to Sophia, Nate shifted the cellular phone to his other ear and leaned against the leather seat of his private jet. He hated flying up North. But at times it couldn’t be avoided. Today was one of those times. At least it was only an overnight trip. Two nights at most and his assets would increase by several million. Not a bad day’s work.
And he might squeeze in a stop in Nashville on the way home to Atlanta. Tomorrow afternoon hopefully.
“Are you okay?” he asked, not buying her long-winded explanation of why she hadn’t made any move to launch an investigation into the club’s accounting problems.
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
“Your mother is worried.”
“My mother? When have you talked to Mother?” Her voice screeched. He’d known it would.
“She came by my office yesterday. She’s called every day since you’ve been gone.” He flipped through a stack of files until he found the one he looked for. Lord, he had too many irons in the fire. He’d probably be up all night just going through the stuff he brought with him. “It’s starting to annoy me a bit, truth be told.”
He wasn’t just referring to Sophia’s mother. His life wasn’t going according to plan. He’d carved a success
ful professional life, why should a personal life be more difficult?
“Sorry,” Sophia apologized. “She can be a bit overbearing at times.”
“Just because she wants what’s best for you. You’re lucky to have someone who cares so much for you.” But he wouldn’t go there. Because he really didn’t mind that his own mother hadn’t cared enough about her husband or son to stick around. She’d done him a favor by leaving, made him stronger for the experience, made him learn at an early age not to let emotions like love play a role in his life. Logic and reason made more sense on every level.
“If you say so.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.
“What? You don’t believe me? I’m telling you the woman is in a nervous twitter over you being in Nashville. She may be bossy but she loves you and is concerned.”
A short silence aired over the phone line. For one moment Nate thought he might have lost the connection. Did Sophia really think her mother didn’t care? Ha, if his mother cared a tenth of what Eliza felt for Sophia…well, no matter.
“I suppose she cares. In her own way.”
“She does and she’s worried.” Determined not to think about his own mother, he scanned the contents of the file, putting the data to memory and made a note to the side of a column of figures.
“I’ll call her.” She didn’t sound excited about the prospect. “Soon.”
“Apparently this aunt of yours is one shady character.”
“Aunt Genevieve?” Sophia’s voice squeaked. “Shady? Oh, she’d love that. She’s a bit naughty but in a fun, loving kind of way.”
Why did he get the impression she was being overly exuberant? “Huh?”
“Think about it, Nate. She runs a strip club. It’s not like she’s going to have a stick-in-the-mud attitude like Mother.”
“I would imagine Eliza feels she has to set a good example for her impressionable daughter. Whereas this aunt you seem so smitten with has only to please herself. You shouldn’t compare the two. Your mother is a class act. You’ve admitted there are some less than above the board things going on around that club. Don’t let this aunt convince you she’s incapable of wrong.”
“I suppose but Aunt Genevieve is hardly some demonic character.” Her tone turned suspicious. “Unless you know something that I don’t know.”
“As far as your aunt, other than what you and your mother have told me, I know nothing about the woman.”
He wouldn’t tell her that he’d hired a private investigator so that he would know soon. At least, not until the guy gave the lowdown on Genevieve Walker and her strip club. No point in upsetting Sophia.
“My mother talked to you about Aunt Genevieve? Unbelievable.” Sophia practically hissed. “What did she say?”
“She’s the devil reincarnated.”
“You’re joking,” Sophia gasped.
“There’s no love lost on your mother’s side.”
“No.” Deep regret laced Sophia’s words. “Growing up, speaking of my aunt was forbidden. I think I’d only seen her twice that I recall and that was my father’s doing. Come to think of it, he didn’t seem too happy about it either.”
“Why is that?” He tapped his pen against the folder and wondered why Sophia’s parents would have ostracized this aunt. What had she done that was so appalling that they’d ignore family when family was everything that really mattered?
Not that he had a basis for thinking that. The only living family he had was a woman who he hadn’t seen in over twenty years and memories of a father who’d passed on long ago.
“I’m not sure. I always assumed it was because of her different lifestyle. Can you see my white Protestant holier-than-thou mother walking into a strip club? Or even wanting to be associated with such a place?”
Nate chuckled at the image of prim and proper Eliza Walker surrounded by half-naked men. “Can’t say that I can.”
“Anyway, Aunt Genevieve is a wonderful woman and I’ve come to love her dearly.”
“You do realize it’s possible she’s connected to the book discrepancies?” He could understand why she wouldn’t want to believe such nastiness of a blood relative but just because someone was family didn’t mean they weren’t capable of criminal activity. Or worse.
“No, I don’t realize that possibility,” Sophia swiftly denied but they both knew she did.
“If she’s connected to the accounting problems, she’s going to be in a whole lot of trouble. And so are you if you don’t file a formal inquiry.”
“I don’t think my aunt’s involved in anything illegal.”
“Then let the feds prove her innocence.” Nate dropped the folder onto his lap. Sophia trusted too easily. People took advantage of her goodness. If her mother was to be believed, this aunt must have hoodwinked her. She wasn’t his fiancée anymore, so why did he feel the need to protect her?
Because he planned on changing her mind.
He wanted his life complete. A wife and children were required to fulfill all the items on his list of planned accomplishments. The list he carried in his head as well as the original, ragged copy tucked inside his wallet. Marrying an uptown, well-bred lady, Sophia, was the key to marking those last two items off his list.
Then he’d have fulfilled his goals and could be happy. Not that he wasn’t happy. Just not…content.
“I can’t,” came her whispered response.
“Sophia, I know you like your aunt and obviously she’s filling some void in your life but be careful,” he warned. “Because regardless of whether or not she’s directly involved with whatever’s going on, there’s no way she can’t be aware her books are being tampered with.”
* * * * *
“Did something happen between you and my mother?”
Genevieve almost stroked out at Sophia’s murmured question. She glanced at the young woman who looked remarkably like she did three decades ago.
“Why would you think that?” Did her face look as flushed as it felt? Did her eyes give away her rising panic? Which was ridiculous. Sophia’s question had been harmless. Innocent.
“Nate asked me—”
“Nate? The boring fiancé?”
“Ex-fiancé,” Sophia corrected with a slight shake of her blonde head.
If Genevieve’s heart didn’t thump so wildly in her chest, she’d smile at how Sophia’s hair hung past her shoulders. Each day Sophia visited she seemed more relaxed, more confident. Good. Eliza smothered the girl to death. “No hairclip today?” she teased, hoping Sophia would allow the change of subject.
Sophia smiled, a soft curving of her generous lips. “No, no hairclip and yes, the one and same ex-fiancé.”
Sophia repositioned herself on the chair next to Genevieve’s bed. Were her jeans and top new? They looked much more comfortable than anything she’d seen Sophia wear. Was it being away from Eliza that had the girl blossoming or did Gray Erickson deserve the credit?
“Interesting that you’re having phone conversations with your ex-fiancé. Especially since he’s so boring and all.”
“I shouldn’t have called him boring. He’s not really. Just dedicated to achieving his goals. To the point he’s forgotten how to be spontaneous or do something just for the fun of it. Honestly, he’s a great guy, though.”
This guy sounded a lot like the uptight young woman who’d first visited at the hospital following her stroke. And just look at Sophia now. “Just not the one for you?”
“We’d stifle each other to death.” Sophia shot her a suspicious look. “Don’t think I haven’t picked up on the fact you’ve changed the subject.”
She noticed that, huh? Genevieve almost grimaced. Should have known she’d realize what an old lady with only half her wits was up to.
“I can’t say your mother ever liked me. Nor I her.” She hadn’t meant to admit that last part. This stroke really messed up her thought patterns. Or maybe she was tired of living a lie. Still, it wasn’t the time nor place for rehashing the past so she rushed on to cover he
r slip. “I’m sure there’s a long story somewhere of how it began but suffice it to say, we’ve never gotten along.”
A blonde brow arched. “Why?”
“Who knows where it began?” Genevieve shrugged. She’d said too much. Or not nearly enough.
Sadness filled her at the mistakes she’d made in the past.
Her gaze locked onto the beautiful blonde woman sitting next to her hospital bed.
Then again, sometimes one’s worst mistakes turned into the greatest of blessings.
* * * * *
“I wondered if you’d be back today.” Madame G fluffed one of the white pillows propped behind her. She was decked out in light purple silk that perfectly matched her eyes.
Gray shrugged. “I told you I would be.”
Of course, he hid in his truck until Sophia left the hospital. The sight of her long, shapely legs outlined beneath soft denim had him longing to jump out of his truck and race after her. For what? A quickie in the hospital parking lot?
Damn, the idea turned him on.
What was wrong with him?
Sophia deserved better than a fast groping. Odds were tonight would be their last night together. Not that she knew that. Maybe he could convince her to go for a ride out to Percy Priest Lake. He could take her to the edge of his property and see how she reacted to the view of the moon striking the water. He’d pack some blankets. They could lie in the back of his truck, count the stars, make love.
Not love. Sex. They could have sex.
“You’re blushing, son. Mind telling me what you’re thinking about?” Madame G’s question cut into his hot and heavy thoughts.
Gray met her gaze and didn’t look away despite the knowing grin on Madame G’s face.
“Uhm, it’s a bit warm in here.” Weak but better than telling her he wanted to screw her niece. Again.
He paced across the room, touched a velvety petal on a bright yellow flower and ignored the perfumy sweet scent mingled with the sterile hospital smell.
“I suppose Sophia mentioned she’s helping me with my Strip or Treat performance,” he started, hoping she’d jump in and fill in blanks. He turned to face her.
“Elvis told me.” Wise violet eyes pinned him.