by Leigh, Mara
Leaning back against the bar and leaving one foot on the stool’s rung, I swung up my other leg, bringing my shin near my nose. I held my leg straight and pointed my toes. My thigh muscles shook, but I was still pretty bendy and strong, considering I hadn’t been anywhere near a gym since my foray into high school gymnastics.
Transferring all my weight to my hands, I pushed my butt off the stool and leaned my head back, striking a pose I’d seen Melodie perform on stage with a chair. Bending and straightening my extended leg, I turned my head to the side, flirting with an imagined audience.
Could I actually do it? Dance at this club? Get naked in front of strange men? It was supposed to be illegal to have nude dancers in a club that served alcohol, but that didn’t seem to stop this place. Stan probably paid off the cops.
I wasn’t sure I had either the guts or desire to dance on stage, but it felt good to stretch after hours of carrying trays of drinks while walking on six-inch platform heels.
After doing the same motions with the other leg, I set my butt back down and split my extended legs in a deep v-sit, my splayed limbs almost crossing the same plane as my head. It was hard to balance on the stool, but I felt pleased by how wide I could still split. I brought my legs together, lowered them, and touched my toes to the floor. Then I slithered off the stool, grabbing it from behind as I swiveled my hips.
I had no idea how I looked, but it felt kind of sexy. Was it? Maybe Melodie would give me a few pointers.
Rising, I turned to face the stool. From there I let my gyrating hips lead my body into a deep crouch, then straightened both legs quickly, ending up bent over the stool.
Someone coughed.
In a heartbeat, I came out of my lewd pose.
Nick stood close by, his expression dark and heated, the crotch of his jeans straining. Had I done that to him? Maybe I could be a dancer.
“Is that another way to show your gratitude?” He took a step forward.
“Dream on.” I gave him the finger.
He stepped closer. “Believe me, I’m dreaming.”
My breath caught in my chest. As hot as he was, there was no way—not a chance in hell—I was going to add sexual favors to this unholy arrangement between us. But I couldn’t deny that his gaze, his words, his physical presence made my girl parts all kinds of needy.
Stupid girl parts.
I snapped my eyes up, realizing I’d been focused on his package.
Angel had said something about a huge dick, and if Nick was anything close to proportional, his member must be massive. I couldn’t help but picture his cock—long and thick and hard, like the rest of him.
Looking into his eyes, I couldn’t break the intense connection between our expressions, and my insides contracted, pulsing, pleading with me to do whatever it took to get that man’s dick inside me.
I needed to get away from Nick before I did something stupid like turn these unwanted fantasies into something real. Swallowing my lust, I turned away and picked up my bag. The last bus arrived at the stop down the street in ten minutes, and although I’d planned to wait in here until the last possible moment, it felt safer to risk a little stranger danger than risk more alone time with Nick.
“Jade. You want a ride home?” A female voice pulled me out of my lusty stupor. Melodie walked in from the back hallway, wearing her hoodie and sweats, and jangling her keys. “The Shitty Melrose express is about to depart.”
Melodie had a car! I felt immediate relief. According to Google, the public transit route home this time in the early morning was going to take eighty-seven minutes—if I made all the connections. With Jade driving, we’d be home in less than fifteen.
“Ready, Nick?” she asked, and he nodded.
Nick was coming in the car, too. My girl parts sang hallelujah, but my brain took control. “I’ll take the bus.”
“Don’t be silly,” Melodie said. “Are there even buses running this time of night?”
“Yup. There’s one leaving soon. It connects with one that goes out to the airport, and I can catch one there that gets me within four blocks. I’d better get going or I’ll have another thirty-minute wait for the next one.” I started for the door.
“You’re coming with us.” Nick planted himself in front of me.
“No. I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Look, obeying your every command is not part of our deal.”
“Deal?” Melodie asked.
“This has nothing to do with any deal,” Nick said. “It’s my job to keep the dancers safe.”
“I’m not a dancer.”
“Waitress, then. If you’re taking the bus home, so am I.” His chest expanded as he drew a deep breath.
I could tell by the way he’d set his jaw he was not going to bend—and in spite of how stubborn I could be, I didn’t want to take the bus when there was a ride on the table. Melodie would be in the car. I could control my libido.
“Great.” I turned to Melodie. “Thanks so much.”
* * *
Jade
I slid behind the driver’s seat of Melodie’s car. Of course she had a vintage VW Beatle. Of course.
“This Bug was my grandma’s,” she said. “It’s from the sixties.”
I tried not to grin as Nick wedged his body into the passenger seat that was pushed so far back it was flush against the seat next to mine. Even still, his legs were bent into his body and he had to keep his head bowed. No way was he going to be able to put on a seat belt. Then I realized these old cars didn’t even have such a thing. Not the shoulder strap kind, anyway, and not even a lap one here in the backseat.
Melodie started up the car, and the engine rumbled behind me. She peeled out of the parking spot and swung around a corner, throwing my body in the opposite direction.
My right boob struck Nick’s shoulder.
I looked for something to grab onto to keep it from happening again.
Still horny, I hoped what promised to be a rollercoaster ride home would be the cure.
“How do you like Shitty Melrose so far?” Melodie asked as the car shot up a steep hill, throwing me back in my seat.
“I can’t get over the space, especially for the price,” I said. “Or is that just mine and Nick’s?”
“Been spending some time at Nick’s?” She looked into the rearview mirror and winked.
“Look out!” I yelled and she screeched to a stop at an intersection, barely missing a car crossing in the other direction.
“Traffic,” she said. “Don’t usually see many cars on the road this late at night.”
“Early in the morning,” Nick said.
“So, Jade,” Melodie continued, “what brought you to Shady Oaks, anyway?”
“My dad set it up.”
Nick turned his head slightly, but he was so wedged in, he couldn’t twist around to make eye contact.
“I landed there when I started dancing at the club.” Melodie ran another stop sign with barely a glance and we started down a hill. “Not that all the girls at Solid Gold get an apartment. I got lucky.”
She glanced at Nick and he was giving her a look, too. Had Melodie done something—um, special—to get her apartment? None of my business, but for some reason I cared.
“Okay,” she said, “there was more to it than luck. Let’s just say moving into Shady Oaks saved my life.”
“Mine too.” I gripped the edge of the seat.
“How’s that?” Nick asked me.
“Never mind.”
“No, really. I want to know.”
At the top of another hill, I glanced out of the window and caught a view of the San Francisco airport, then the Bay Bridge in the distance. “It’s nothing that dramatic,” I said. “I used to work four jobs and they barely covered my rent and my sister’s tuition. This new place and the job… I might actually get to save.”
“You pay your sister’s tuition?” Melody asked. “That’s generous.”
Nick nodded, the back of hi
s head rubbing on the car roof. “Very.”
“Yeah, well, she wants to be a physical therapist, and you need college for that.”
“And what do you want to be?” Nick asked.
“A cocktail waitress in a strip club,” I answered. “All my childhood dreams are coming true.”
“Glad to be of service,” he said, a playful tone to his voice.
Laughing, Melodie took another sharp turn.
Not expecting it, I was thrown against Nick.
“If you wanted to sit in my lap,” he said, “you could’ve just asked.”
I reached forward, making sure my middle finger landed in his limited line of vision. He chuckled.
“No college for you?” Melodie asked, looking at me in the rearview mirror.
“Couldn’t afford for both of us to go.”
“So your sister came first?” Nick asked. “How come you had to sacrifice for her?”
“I don’t mind.” Truth was, it wasn’t an either/or choice. Even if she hadn’t wanted college, no way Crystal would have ever earned enough to reverse our arrangement. It wasn’t like my sister was lazy, she just… Well, I’d taken care of her for so long it felt natural.
Melodie pulled into a parking spot on our hilly street, angling her tires so she wouldn’t roll, and pulled on the parking brake, hard. Nick opened his door and started to extrude himself from the small space he’d been squished into, and I followed Melodie out her side of the car.
“I’m starving.” My stomach grumbled as we walked up to the gate. “I’ve got eggs and bacon. Anyone want breakfast?” It would be nice to cook for more than one person, and Melodie would provide a great buffer.
“Sounds delicious,” Melodie said.
“I never say no to food,” Nick added, as we rounded the pond-scum pool and started up the stairs.
But when the three of us got to the third floor, Melodie headed the other direction. “Breakfast,” I reminded her. “Just come on over whenever you’re ready.”
Walking backward down the hall, she shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m beat. Think I’m gonna crash, then eat when I wake up.”
Anxiety accelerated my heart. The way I was feeling, I did not trust myself alone with Nick. “You sure?” I yelled across the open courtyard as she headed down her hall. “If bacon and eggs are too heavy, I could make you a salad? Some pan-roasted veggies? An egg-white omelet?” I thought through my limited pantry.
“Thanks anyway.” She stopped at an apartment door and waved. “What time’s your shift tomorrow?”
“Seven.”
“Want a ride in?” Her voice carried easily across the open space.
“Sure. Thanks. And thanks for the ride home tonight.”
“No sweat!” She opened her door and stepped inside.
Suddenly the air felt thicker, and the space on the balcony-like hallway shrank. Even though neither of us had moved from where we’d stopped at the top of the stairs, it was like the air and concrete had conspired to force me closer to Nick.
My breathing felt labored, and I couldn’t bring myself to look directly at him.
“Your place or mine?” His deep voice rumbled through me.
“What?” I glanced up.
“Breakfast?” He took a step toward me. “I’m starving. Unless you’re taking back your offer. Maybe you think you’ve already shown me enough gratitude.” He was grinning, his tone teasing. And even though his words could be interpreted as a threat, they didn’t come off that way. At all.
I dug for my keys as I headed for my apartment. “One breakfast, coming right up.”
“Fantastic,” he said but stopped at his door. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower. I’ll come by in ten?”
“Sure.” I shot into my place, trying not to imagine his naked body under a stream of hot water.
Crap. I leaned back against my door. If he was going to shower, did that mean I should too? First things first. Get some biscuits going, because I hadn’t yet baked any bread.
Nine
Nick
Showered and starving, I knocked on Jade’s door. It was quarter to four in the morning, but I noticed some movement across the courtyard on the second-floor hallway. If NYC was the city that never slept, Shady Oaks was the apartment complex that didn’t.
No one came to her door, so I knocked again.
I was starting to think that she’d backed out or fallen asleep, when the door opened. Her head was wrapped in a towel, her body in another.
I grinned. “You didn’t need to get all dressed up for me.”
“Hardee har har.” She gave me the finger. “Come in. I’ll just be a minute.”
It was all I could do to keep from grabbing her, kissing her, taking a good look at what was under that towel, but I got distracted by the scents filling the room.
“Something smells great,” I said, as she tucked into her bedroom.
Her place was similar to mine except that she barely had any furniture and, well, had a lot less mess. But then again, the mess was gone from my place now, too.
A tiny old sofa sat in front of her fireplace, and she had what looked like a folding card table with two mismatched wooden chairs by the kitchen. That was the sum total of her furniture.
She came out of the bedroom, her long dark curls wetting her baggy T-shirt, below which she wore a pair of plaid men’s boxer shorts. If I had to guess, she was purposefully trying to look unsexy after her night in that skimpy uniform, but she might as well give up on that. Jade couldn’t pull off unsexy no matter how hard she tried. At least not from where I stood.
Her legs looked hot and strong, stretching out from the baggy boxers that were loose enough that I’d be able to push my hands up her thighs and…
Great. Now all I could think of was doing just that.
Fuck, I wanted this woman.
She turned on the flame under what looked like an antique frying pan, one of those super heavy ones a cartoon character would use to hit an enemy over the head.
“How do you like your eggs?” Bending to peer at the flame under the pan, she adjusted the knob, then straightened.
“Doesn’t matter,” I answered. “Sunny-side up?”
“Sunny-side up it is.”
She bent again to check on whatever was in the oven. I smelled bacon but couldn’t see any on the stove. What I could see was how tight her rounded ass looked. Fucking hot, even in those plaid boxers. Especially in those boxers.
I forced myself to look away. “You don’t have much furniture.”
“No kidding.” She grabbed a stick of butter and a carton of eggs from the fridge. “It was you who claimed this place was furnished.”
“I did?”
“Well, whoever talked to my dad said it was furnished.”
“Oh.” I winced. What else had the person she’d mistaken me for told her da? “Some of the furnished units have more stuff than others. Looks like someone cleaned this place out.”
“Who lived here before me?” She dropped a huge chunk of butter into the pan, and it started to melt.
“Barely saw him. He must’ve worked during the day because we never crossed paths.”
Using a dishtowel to protect her hand, she lifted the frying pan and let the butter roll around until the surface was coated. Once again, I admired her strength, her arm muscles firing as she manipulated the heavy pan. Who needed a gym when you had a frying pan like that?
“It’s okay about the furniture,” she said. “I have a foam camping mat. Plus beggars can’t be choosers, right?” Grinning, she looked over her shoulder. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“You don’t even have a bed?” I walked toward the bedroom.
“Stay out of there.” Her tone stopped me short.
“So that’s where you’re keeping the contraband and gold bars.”
“That’s right.” She turned back to the stove and expertly cracked an egg into the pan, then another.
“How do you do that with one
hand?” I strolled back toward the kitchen. My hands were twice as big as hers, and no way could I pull that off.
“Practice,” she said. “I like to cook.”
“Right. You want to work for a chef.”
Adding a fourth egg to the pan, she nodded. “Someday.” She cracked a fifth, then turned to me. “Three eggs enough? There’s plenty of bacon and biscuits too.”
“Three sounds great.”
After adding the fifth egg, she bent over and took a pan of biscuits from the oven. The scent was almost enough to distract me from the sight of her ass. Almost.
I started to drool.
As if I wasn’t already turned on by this woman, she’d fucking made me biscuits! I was rock hard. Hard at the sight of biscuits. What a pervert.
I tucked behind the counter, hoping my dick would calm down as she took a pan of bacon out of the oven and then started to put food on plates.
“Take a seat.” She nodded toward the table and chairs. “I didn’t make coffee, but there’s beer if you want one?”
“Sure. You?”
She nodded, and I opened a couple of beers and set them on the table just as she set down a plate with three eggs, about eight slices of bacon, and three biscuits for me, and one with two eggs, slightly less bacon, and one biscuit for her.
“Sit. Eat.”
I wasn’t going to say no.
She added pepper to her eggs, then handed the grinder to me. Using her fingers, she dug into a tiny ceramic bowl and pinched out a tiny amount of a pink flaky substance, and then rubbed it between her thumb and finger, letting the crushed powder fall onto her eggs.
“Salt?” She passed the tiny dish to me.
“Sure.” I’d never seen salt served that way, but followed her example, the edges of my finger and thumb barely squeezing into the little dish. Once my eggs were salted, I tucked into the food.
I groaned with pleasure. “This is so fucking good.”
She smiled her thanks through a mouthful of food.