Set Loose

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Set Loose Page 4

by Isabel Morin


  “You mean like the bouncers?”

  Emily nodded.

  “Sure, knock yourself out. You have your eye on one of them?” Cheryl asked, slanting her a look.

  “No,” Emily said, maybe a little too quickly. “I was just curious.”

  “Most of the guys here are decent enough. I went out a few times with Richie, but it didn’t amount to anything and we’re just friends now. Cutter’s the hottest by far and I’m pretty sure he’s single, but unfortunately for us he won’t date any of the girls. Or maybe it’s a good thing, since we’d all be jealous of whoever had rights to that fine bod of his.”

  “So he doesn’t hit on any of the dancers?” Emily asked.

  “Nope. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean…I was just curious.”

  “Alas, he treats us all like we’re his little sister.”

  Emily thought back to the ride in his truck. She’d felt the tension coming off him, and unless she was very much mistaken he was plenty attracted to her. There was nothing sisterly about how he looked at her, but there was definitely something holding him back. She’d wanted to crawl all over that amazing body of his, but everything about his body language had said stay away. He seemed pretty private, and he was a hard man to read.

  “I have my own daydreams about him,” Cheryl continued. “One day his business is going to pick back up and then he’ll be able to quit the club. Maybe after that he’ll ditch the big brother act and give me a call.”

  “What do you mean? Does he own a business?”

  “He’s a builder. You know, like houses and additions, custom renovations and all that. He had a good thing going and then everything went to hell around here when the economy tanked. He still pulls a few jobs during the day, though.”

  This explained a lot, and Emily was a bit ashamed that she hadn’t thought about his life outside of the club. She’d been too caught up in her overwhelming lust and whether she had the nerve to make a move on him if he didn’t hit on her first.

  She’d never had casual sex, and her romantic history consisted of exactly two boyfriends. Both those relationships were pretty short-lived and not terribly exciting when it came to the sex. She’d been happy enough to be single, as she’d worked too hard and had too little time for romantic or sexual entanglements.

  But things had changed. She had nothing to lose by sowing some wild oats, and she was starting to think a fling with Cutter might be just what she needed. Unfortunately, he wasn’t giving her much encouragement. Did she have it in her to throw herself at him if he didn’t make a move on her?

  “You’re the most gorgeous girl here, you know that?”

  Emily forced a smile, but Jim was too busy looking at her breasts to notice anyway. “That’s sweet of you.”

  “I’m not just saying that. You’re something special, and you dance better than all of them put together.”

  “Do you live around here, or are you just visiting?” she asked. She could care less where he lived if he was a tourist, but if he lived in the area she’d have to figure out what to do about him. It was only her second Tuesday working there, but he already seemed to know her schedule and had shown up Sunday and Monday as well. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have even noticed, since all the guys blended together, but he’d been monopolizing her attention. Every time she came out onto the floor he called her over and kept her talking, holding her wrist with a creepy possessiveness.

  “I live here,” he said. “Got a good job working for the city.”

  “Oh, that’s great,” Emily replied, just barely covering her dismay.

  “How about I take you out sometime? You’re off Thursday, right?”

  Even if Cheryl hadn’t given her the talk about not dating customers, she would have had no hesitation in declining Jim’s invitation.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m seeing someone.”

  “Is that so?” he said, a hard edge to his voice.

  Emily froze, unsure what would have made him suspicious. A few men had already asked her out and she had her answer down pat, no hesitation whatsoever. Then again, maybe he was just damaged and suspicious of everyone.

  “Sorry,” she said, determined to put more distance between them from now on. No money was worth his creepiness.

  She turned to go, only to be brought up short by his hand on her wrist. A flutter of panic started in her chest and she wondered if she’d have to call for help. Then she caught sight of Cutter watching from about twenty feet away, ready to move if she gave him the go-ahead.

  “I really need to get going,” she said, striving for civility.

  “What’s your rush? Give me a lap dance and I’ll make it worth your while,” Jim said, his tone demanding, his expression even more unnerving than before. It wasn’t the dumb-ass look most drunk, horny guys had when they asked. This was belligerent and vaguely threatening.

  “Sorry, I don’t do those,” she said, trying again to pull away.

  But instead of letting go he pulled harder, catching her off-balance so that she fell across his lap. Helplessness poured through her at the feel of his erection pressing into her hip, his hands holding her to him. But it was only for a matter of seconds and then Cutter was there, looming over them, his expression beyond furious. He put his hand to the back of Jim’s neck and did some sort of martial art, ninja thing and Jim instantly let go, his whole body going slack.

  Emily scrambled off, shivering in disgust and faintly nauseated.

  “Are you okay?” Cutter asked, his voice low, and she nodded. “Why don’t you take a break. I’ll deal with this guy.”

  “Thanks,” she said, her smile turning wobbly as tears threatened.

  Cutter looked torn, like he didn’t know whether he should keep hold of Jim, who was starting to squirm, or attend to her. She ought to get out of the way and let him handle things. Besides, he was right, she did need to take a break before she lost it in front of everyone. So far they hadn’t made much of a scene and she wanted to keep it that way.

  In the dressing room she put on her robe and paced the room, too agitated to sit. She felt dirty, violated really, though no real harm had been done. But her sexy little adventure was showing its dark side, one she’d been willfully ignoring. You could shake your tits and ass in a roomful of men for only so long before one of them was going to get out of line. She just hadn’t expected it to happen to her.

  She spent a few minutes doing her barre warm-up and before long she felt calmer, more centered. A few of the girls came in and asked how she was doing and before long they were telling their own stories of troublesome customers. The fact that every single woman had had at least one disturbing encounter was sobering, but the camaraderie brought its own comfort.

  She danced two more times, but she was just going through the motions without any of the usual pleasure she took when she danced. Luckily no one seemed to notice. The flirtatious chitchat as she worked the floor was even harder, but since that was where she made about half her tips she pushed on.

  By the time her shift was over she was exhausted. Compared to the rigors of performing a full-length ballet, dancing here was usually a cake-walk, but the scene with Jim had taken its toll. If she hadn’t made over five hundred dollars tonight, she might have considered bagging the whole enterprise. But her credit card payments wouldn’t be improved by her delicate sensibilities.

  It was a relief to shower away her stripper identity and change back into an innocuous wraparound skirt and sleeveless top. Cutter was embroiled in what looked like a heated discussion at the bar, so she continued out the door. She’d thank him properly tomorrow.

  Outside people walked around with the usual neon-lit energy, and the hotel was nearly as busy at two-thirty in the morning as it had been early in the evening. A wall separated the bank of elevators from the lobby, and it was blessedly peaceful. The few other people waiting got on the elevator for the lower floors and it was just her.

  Finally her elevator
arrived and she got on, only vaguely aware of someone else behind her. She was digging around in her bag for her key card, annoyed with herself for not having it out, when someone grabbed her arm.

  Startled, she looked up to find Jim standing beside her.

  Emily’s blood ran cold and for a few seconds her brain froze, unable to process what was happening.

  “Not so sure of yourself now, are you?” he said, his eyes burning with malice.

  Now that he wasn’t sitting down she realized how tall he was, far taller than she. Full-blown panic set in and she threw herself forward, trying to push past him. With an almost casual shove he tossed her back against the wall, knocking the breath out of her so that even her cry for help came out a pitiful croak.

  She watched the doors close with rising terror. But just before they shut she caught sight of Cutter running toward her, calling her name.

  “What’s your room number?” Jim demanded, the question so ludicrous Emily could only stare at him.

  With a snarl at her he began pressing all the buttons, his frustration growing as they remained stubbornly un-lit, the elevator sitting on the lobby floor. Emily watched, almost of if she weren’t part of the unfolding scene, curious how long it would take him to figure out that a key card was needed to operate the elevator.

  Her mind raced, inventorying her bag, considering each item and its possibilities as a weapon. Her stiletto heels were back in her locker, as was her hairspray. She had precious little with which to fend him off, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try. Anyway, he couldn’t keep her in the elevator forever, and surely Cutter would take care of him after that.

  No sooner did she have this thought than the doors opened again with an innocent ding. Cutter stood there blocking the doorway, every muscle tensed and waiting, his dark eyes looking almost crazed with fear and fury.

  Jim took a step backwards but there was nowhere to go. With a low growl Cutter hauled him out of the elevator, one precise punch to the gut doubling him over. Cutter shoved him down onto his knees, twisting his arms behind him.

  A man and woman in evening dress come around the corner just then, stopping in shock at the bizarre scene. As bad as it looked, however, it was clear that Cutter had everything under control. In fact he was managing Jim’s bulk easily. He looked like he wanted to kill the man rather than subdue him, but so far he was restraining himself admirably.

  Things had taken on a surreal aspect, but Emily roused herself to go find a security guard. She found two on the other side of the lobby and returned with them to find that a small crowd had formed around Jim and Cutter. Emily relaxed somewhat as the guards took control, ignoring Jim’s rants about Cutter jumping him.

  “I’m sure you’ll see all you need to know on the security cameras,” Cutter said as he and Emily gave their contact information.

  “What’s the big deal?” Jim yelled, struggling against the guard who held him. “She’s just a stripper for God’s sake.”

  Emily blanched, mortified, and felt Cutter’s arm go around her.

  Soon a couple of police officers arrived and Emily sat down on a chair to fill out a report.

  Finally, after profuse apologies from the manager on duty and assurances that her assailant wouldn’t be allowed to enter the hotel ever again, Cutter took Emily’s arm and led her to the elevator. They rode the twenty-two floors in silence, though she could feel the tension radiating off him. Even so, just his presence comforted her no end.

  They reached her room and stood awkwardly outside her door.

  “Would you mind coming in for a little while?” she asked, hating how vulnerable she sounded.

  “Oh, you mean you’re staying here?” he asked, looking relieved.

  Emily frowned in confusion. “Yes, what did you think I was doing?”

  “I guess I thought maybe you were coming to see a guest. Like, a man.”

  “God, no.” she said, horrified by the thought of him walking her to the door, all the while thinking he was delivering her to some man’s arms. “I’m just…I’m staying here.” She let out a sigh. Might as well tell him the whole truth. “I’m not planning on being around long enough to need a place to live.”

  “Oh. I see,” he said, though she could tell he didn’t. How could he?

  His expression had closed off, like he wasn’t going to give anything away. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, hoping he wasn’t going to change his mind about staying. She breathed a sigh of relief when he followed her in and shut the door.

  Emily set her bag on the dresser and kicked off her shoes, unsure what to do now that they were inside.

  “Would you like something to drink?” she asked. “I’m afraid all I have is grapefruit juice or bottled water.”

  “Water would be great.”

  Emily grabbed a couple of waters from the little fridge and sat down on the loveseat, then held her breath as she waited to see if Cutter would sit next to her or on the armchair. She let out her breath as he sat next to her, though it wasn’t exactly relief. She was suddenly all too aware of how often in the past week she’d imagined him in the enormous bed just a few yards away.

  Her face heated at the thought and she looked down at the bottle in her hand, willing herself to act like a normal person.

  “I wanted to thank you before I left the club tonight, but you were busy. Now I have a whole lot more to thank you for.”

  Cutter sat forward, his hands on his knees, as if ready to spring out of his seat.

  “You don’t need to thank me. The last thing I’d do is let someone hurt you.”

  She felt her throat grow tight and fought to keep her breathing regular. It took a few moments before she trusted herself to speak.

  “So how exactly did you happen to be right outside the elevators when I needed you?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, looking embarrassed. “I wanted to see if you were okay, but you left before I got a chance. I stuck my head out and saw you heading into the hotel and followed you. I guess you didn’t hear me calling. I kind of felt like a stalker until I saw that bastard shove you.”

  His voice was rough with emotion and his eyes held a whole world of doubt and resistance that she didn’t understand. But she wanted to, wanted to find a way through it. Wanted to run her hands along that smooth dark skin, those hard muscles he was so willing to use on her behalf.

  “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come along, but I do know tonight could have been a lot nastier.”

  “I just wish I’d gotten there quicker. When those doors closed on you...”

  “As soon as I saw you I knew I’d be okay.”

  A ragged breath tore from his throat and heat flared in his eyes. Then they were both moving, coming together without another word. Emily heard herself moan, the tension of the entire night igniting as his mouth covered hers, hungry and demanding.

  One big hand cupped the back of her head, the other curved around her hip, holding her to him so that her breasts pressed against his hard chest, abrading her already sensitive nipples. Her hands dove into his hair, held his face in her hands, kissing him in an effort to put out the fire they’d started and scorching herself in the process.

  His tongue sought her out, stroking her from every angle, first shallow and then deeper until she was boneless. He kissed her as if he’d never stop, as if it were all he needed until the end of time. She drank up his urgency and matched it with her own, crawling into his lap to be closer. The heat and scent of him enveloped her, his strong thighs beneath her, his arousal pressing against her through her underwear. All her senses were full of him, her body swept through by its own restless cravings.

  His hand left her hip to cup her breast, a ragged groan coming from low in his throat as she whimpered against him. She was panting now, desperate for him, her mouth traveling down his throat, nipping as she went, loving the sounds she pulled from him.

  Then a cell phone rang, its shrill noise ripping through the roo
m.

  Emily jumped, startled, and slid off him so he could dig the phone out of his back pocket. Cutter looked at the phone and grimaced.

  “Fuck. It’s my sister. I forgot I was supposed to pick her up after her shift.”

  His head fell back onto the sofa and he closed his eyes. After a few seconds of heaving breaths he sat up and looked at her, his expression wiped clean of all desire and need. A dismay so profound it was more akin to grief washed over her at the look of resolve on his face. She watched, incredulous, as he stood up.

  How could he go from the torrid kisses of a minute ago to this dispassionate stranger? Her entire body was still throbbing with need.

  “Maybe it’s for the best,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants. “I should never have let things get so out of hand, not when you were so shaken up.”

  “Cutter, we didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. I’m a grown woman and I know what I want.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched and his eyes flared before he tamped down whatever feeling he’d been about to betray.

  “I just think it would be better if we don’t get involved.”

  “Because you have some kind of policy against dating dancers?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it a policy…”

  “Never mind. I get it.”

  She really didn’t get it, but she wasn’t going to let him know how let down she was. She stood up and followed him to the door.

  “Well, thanks for everything,” she said, hating how inane it sounded.

  “Emily –”

  She looked at him expectantly.

  He hesitated and then shook his head, and whatever he’d been about to say was lost to her. “Sleep well.”

  “You bet,” she said, and watched him walk down the hallway, an ache squeezing her chest as she shut the door.

  Chapter Four

  Cutter pulled up in front of the restaurant where Lisa worked and waited as she climbed in.

  “You’re late,” she said without preamble.

 

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