Risky Gamble

by Vivian Ward

  “Talk to me?” I echo his words, surprised by them. “About what?”

  “Rumor has it that you’re after one of the girls who works here. What’s going on with that?” he asks.

  “Jesus,” I run my hand through my hair. “Word sure gets around here pretty fast. Let me guess: Jenna?”

  “You know her too well. What’s her name?” Tyler asks as he smiles and nods at the brunette.

  “Ally. Allison Hart,” I answer him. “I hired her to help lighten some of the load since Angela is out on maternity leave.”

  “Oh, she’s a new barkeep. How long has she been working here?”

  “About a week.”

  He spins around, facing me. “A week?! Damn, you move fast.”

  “You haven’t seen her,” I counter.

  “Are you going to share her?” he chuckles. “I might want in on that action.”

  The thought of sharing her makes me see red. I can feel my cheeks flush at the thought of it, and for a second, I want to punch him square in the jaw. But I know he means no foul; we’ve shared plenty of girls. Ally will never be one of them.

  “Not this one,” I say, brushing a piece of lint off my lapel, trying to keep my cool.

  “No?” I can tell he’s genuinely shocked. I’ve never told him no before. “What makes this one so special?”

  There are a million things that make Ally unique. For starters, her innocence; she’s not like any of the girls in here or the ones either of us have met before. She’s also not out for my money, unlike most women. Ally even carries herself differently than most women. If you were to see a hundred girls walking down the sidewalk, you could easily spot her with a passing glance.

  Then there’s her gorgeous face; it’s almost angelic, and not to mention her smoking hot body. She has curves in all the right places and the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen. There’s no doubt in my mind that she could be a model if she wanted to, but for some reason, she writes mundane articles for a paper who could never appreciate her the way that I do. Nobody ever could appreciate her more than me.

  But if I could have things my way, in my fantasy world, Ally would be at home—my house. She would never work, and she would greet me at the door every night, wearing a sheer nightgown with a silk robe. She’d be ready and waiting for me, and I would do naughty, dirty, unspeakable things to her body.

  “A lot of things,” I finally say after thinking about how perfect she is and how our lives would be different if she were mine.

  And she will be mine once she signs that NDA.

  “When does she work next? I want to see this girl.”

  “She comes back to work on Valentine’s Day,” I answer him.

  I’m hoping that she’ll use these next two days off to go over the NDA’s and return them to me on Valentine’s Day. I’ve got a surprise planned and her doing on that particular night would make it so much better.

  “Oh, party night,” he grins at me. “I’ll be here, too. You can introduce us.”

  As much as I like Tyler, I’m less than thrilled to introduce him to her. When he sees her, not only will he know how beautiful she is, but he’ll also see her striking resemblance to Mel and that worries me. Anyone who knew me before I opened the club knows how hard I took Mel’s death, and he’s one of them.

  I’ll have a hard enough time not screwing things up with her on my own, I don’t need his help, especially with the NDA on the line. She’s the first girl since Mel that I’ve really wanted, and I mean really.

  All of the others were just play things. They didn’t mean much to me, but not Ally. Ally means everything to me, and I will get her—one way or another. She won’t have a choice.

  “Yeah, I’ll have to do that,” I grit my teeth and nod for another Scotch.

  Chapter 16

  Ally

  No matter how much work I do, I don’t seem to be getting ahead. My stupid editor said that she wants me to revamp the entire Mardi Gras piece that I’ve been working on because she wants it to sound more like last year’s article.

  Well, I wasn’t here last year and, newsflash, I’m a completely different intern! Whatever intern they used last year isn’t here and everyone has a unique writing style. It’s what makes their work different. Otherwise, we’d all sound the same and nobody would ever read anything because it would be boring.

  But I guess it’s a good thing that I’m as busy as I am because it’s helped keep my mind off of Colton. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. Every time I walk past the breakfast bar in my apartment, I eyeball the NDA that he gave me. My mind hasn’t shut off about the possibilities it could bring.

  Part of me says to go ahead and sign it. See what he’s about and find out what mischief I could cause. I’ve been so good for so long that all I want to be is bad, but then I stop and ask myself: Do I really want to be bad with him? He’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever been with, and he kind of scares me.

  Okay—not kind of—he does!

  After the things Jenna told me about him, the way he kept testing limits with me while we were having sex, and the things he said to me on the phone? I can only imagine what he’ll do to me when we’re alone. Pictures have been running rampant through my mind. Everything from me being tied and tortured to being chained and choked. Okay, maybe things wouldn’t go that far.

  Maybe.

  But I kind of want him to.

  I was surprised that things didn’t go further when we were having sex, but I wonder why. What made him stop? Why didn’t he keep squeezing my neck? Why didn’t he leave bruises on me?

  Maybe I’m different from the other girls, somehow. But is that in a good way or a bad way?

  Then I remind myself that he owns a sex club and is much more sexually experienced than I am—not that it’s a bad thing. Some people just have more experience than others. The thought of the things he could do to me is so exciting, even if they’re completely out of my league.

  I’ve always wondered about men like Colton and what it’d be like to submit to one of them, what it’d be like to be powerless, how far would I let him push me, and how sadistic he could be. The thought is thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

  And then there’s the logical part of my brain that says, “Ally, do whatever he wants to get the story.” I want to write that story, I need to write that story, but I’m afraid that story might be the end of me. What if I can’t handle any of the things that he wants to do? What if I get hurt? I don’t care what the NDA says, people can get carried away, shit can happen, and there’s no guarantee or promise that I’ll always be safe.

  By lunch, I’ve got myself worked up into a frenzy. Between rewriting the entire article and thinking about Colton, my brain is complete mush.

  Sitting in the lunch room, I pull my ham sandwich out of my paper bag and open my bottled water. My stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour and I thought for sure that it was going to eat itself as angry as it sounded. Just as I begin biting into my sandwich, Darcy walks in. I want to roll my eyes but think better of it.

  “Well, well, well,” she says, placing her elbow on the table as she rests her chin in her hand. “Did you have a busy night last night?” she asks.

  Thinking fast, I ask, “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I saw you leaving the Kaswell Cocktail Lounge. You were dressed to kill! Who were you there with?” her eyes light up as she waits for my response.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Now she’s the one rolling her eyes. “Last night. I saw you leaving the Kaswell Cocktail Lounge in a skin tight leather suit. That’s definitely not the same stuff you wear here.”

  At that moment, both of us take a moment to examine my clothes. I’m wearing a pair of black yoga pants with a long, baggy blouse and my fuzzy winter boots.

  Okay, maybe I do dress a lot differently between my two jobs.

  “Yeah,” I say, trying to make her shut up. I figure if I admit to leaving
the building, she’ll get off my ass about it, but I have no such luck.

  “So, who were you there with? Everyone knows that not just anyone can walk into a place like that, so either you were on a date—and dating a very prominent figure—which I doubt, or you were there snooping for a story.”

  Taking another bite of my sandwich, I actually do roll my eyes at her this time. She’s so damn annoying. She has her own story to work on. Why doesn’t she just mind her business?

  “Well?” she presses. “Which is it?”

  Swallowing my sandwich, I take a drink of water before finally answering her. Looking around the lunch room, I make sure that no one is within ear shot.

  “Why couldn’t I be on a date?” I ask, offended. We stare at each other for a few moments before I finally cave. “I’m working on a story,” I say.

  “Yeah? About who? What’s it about?”

  Has she ever heard of the word boundaries before? I don’t go around asking her about the story she’s working on to open doors in her writing career.

  “The owner,” I say, hoping she’ll let it go.

  Her jaw drops open and her eyes bulge out of their sockets. “You’re doing a story about Colton Kaswell?”

  “Maybe,” I say, trying to answer without really giving an answer.

  “You are!” she squeals. “What’s the story about? I heard he’s involved in sex stuff, but I’m not really sure what that means. Is that what you’re trying to dig up?”

  I feel the need to defend him. The way she’s putting it makes him sound like he’s a bad guy and it pisses me off.

  “I don’t know where you’re getting your info from, but he’s actually a great guy,” I explain.

  “Yeah, a great guy who’s into sex stuff,” she giggles. “Wait! That is what you’re covering, isn’t it?”

  I want her to know that she’s not the only one who can dig up a good story. Wanting to show off some of my own talent, I say, “Maybe,” with a little smirk on my face.

  I’m actually very proud of myself for coming out of my shell to write about something like this. It’s not me at all, but if I want to go anywhere in this field, I figure I have to pull out the big guns. We’re not in third grade anymore and swear word bribery will get me nowhere in this job.

  “Ohhh, what’s it about?” Grabbing a chair, she takes her seat beside me and is firmly planted in it.

  “Well, I found out that he co-owns a club with his business partner and that’s what I’m trying to learn more about,” I explain as I take the last bite of my sandwich.

  “A club? Do you mean the cocktail lounge that he owns?”

  I shake my head and swallow my lunch. “No, he owns the cocktail lounge himself. He has a business partner for the sex club that the two of them own.”

  “A sex club?!?” she exclaims.

  “Shhh,” I warn her, looking around to make sure that nobody else heard her. “Be quiet!”

  “But Ally, you said he owns a sex club,” she whispers. “What the hell? Have you seen it? Is it real?”

  “Seen it?”I laugh. “Hell, I work there.”

  “Shut up!” she punches my arm. “You do not!”

  I nod and grin, “I really do.”

  “So is that what you were doing there?” She asks. “But wait, where is the sex club? Is the cocktail lounge a cover-up?”

  “No, the cocktail lounge is legit. It’s his second business, and the sex club is his third.”

  “Interesting,” she says.

  I can see the wheels turning in her head and decide that I probably shouldn’t tell her anymore information. Even with the tiny bit I have told her, she could steal the entire story from me and then I’d be back to square one, which would really piss me off.

  “Yeah, but there’s not much to tell just yet,” I lie. “I think it’s more of something that he created but it never took off much. I don’t know though, I’m still doing research while I work there.”

  “Well, keep me posted,” she says.

  “I will.”

  I feel so sick to my stomach knowing that she’s onto me and what I’m working on. It’s my luck that she would see me leaving. I always have the shittiest luck, but hopefully, my answers curbed her hungry appetite and now she’ll leave me alone so she can go work on her own project.

  It doesn’t help that I spent my night off staring at that NDA’s that Colton gave me, trying to figure out if there’s a way to make them work; signing them, getting my story, and getting to experiment with him.

  I keep telling myself that I can do this. I can let my hair down to play with Colton, even though I’m terrified. My curiosity outweighs my fear, and if I’m that curious, I think I should put on my big girl panties and do it, see what it’s like.

  And now that Darcy knows that I’m working on a story that involves him, I don’t want her making any moves on him and trying to steal my idea.

  If my future depends on Colton, I better sign those papers before I go in to the club tomorrow. My heart skips a beat as I think about what his expectations of me will be, especially since it’s Valentine’s Day.

  Chapter 17

  Colton

  Sipping on Scotch, I sit patiently waiting for Ally to come in for her shift this evening. She’s been on my mind all day, and my cock twitches just thinking about all of the naughty times that lie ahead of us.

  “Colton,” I hear my name as a pair of black leather dress shoes make their descent on the staircase.

  I know those shoes and that walk anywhere.

  “Over here, Tyler,” I say, gulping down the rest of my drink. As he approaches me, I notice he got a new haircut and shaved off his goatee. “Look at you. You clean up nice,” I tease him.

  “You like?” He asks, running his fingers along the edge of his hair. “That little brunette told me that I’d look better if I did my hair like this. I think she’s right.”

  “The girl from the other night?” I ask.

  He nods, “We’ve gotten very acquainted with each other.”

  Right on cue, she makes her descent into the club and waltzes over to us, taking a sit on his knee while she wraps her arm around his neck for balance.

  “Hello,” I nod to her. “Care for a drink?”

  “Just vodka with a splash of club soda and lime, please.”

  I motion for one of my girls to come over to take her drink order. We’re expecting a huge turnout for tonight so I’ve got all of the help here.

  “So, where’s Dream Girl?” Tyler asks. I know he’s talking about Ally, but I hate that he’s referring to her that way.

  Number one, she’s mine. Number two, she’ll never be his. Number three, she’s deserves more respect than any club member who possesses a keycard to get into Club Kaswell.

  “Ally,” I correct him. “She should be here any minute. I told her she didn’t have to come in until six since she spent so much time organizing, planning, and prepping everything.”

  Tyler possessively wraps his arm around the girl sitting on his lap, and that’s when it dawns on me that I don’t know her name. It makes me wonder who she is because I know all of the members, unless she’s a new one that he invited.

  “Colton,” I say, extending my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Thank you,” she smiles at me, taking my hand. “My name is Micah.”

  “Lovely name,” I say.

  Then, ten minutes to six, the basement door opens and a pair of expensive stilettos, supporting sexy legs begin to make their way down the staircase. Grinning, I look over at Tyler who’s visibly holding his breath his breath.

  Yes, and she’s all mine, is all I can think as I watch his reaction to her.

  But when Ally makes her way to the bottom of the staircase, I gasp at the sight of her. She’s pulled out all the stops tonight and looks fantastic. Instead of letting her work, I’d rather take her back to my office or in one of the private rooms.

  Her crimson, crushed velvet dress is dangerously low-cut a
nd extremely short. A thin gold necklace is hooked around her neck with a tiny diamond pendant that rests just above her cleavage.

  The damn thing barely covers her thighs, and all I can picture when I look at her thighs is how amazing my dick looked between them two nights ago.

  Black, thigh-high stockings run up the length of her legs, the lacy top showing just below her dress. Right now I would empty my bank account to run my hands from her petite ankles all the way up her sexy legs and reach under her dress.

  A rosy glow spreads across her cheeks as Tyler and I drink in her appearance. Making her way over to us, she smiles and says, “Hello.”

  “Well, hello,” Tyler says, almost damn near throwing Micah off his lap.

  “Tyler, this is Ally, our new bartender that I told you about,” I introduce him to her.

  “It’s my pleasure to meet you, Ally. Colton’s told me a lot about you.”

  Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open. I quickly shake my head no to let her know that he doesn’t know anything intimate about us, and she quickly closes her mouth.

  “All good things, I hope,” she says, shaking his hand.

  “Only the best,” Tyler kisses the top of her hand.

  “Well, I best get to work,” she says.

  Turning away from us, I take a look at her ass and I immediately regret it. My cock instantly gets hard as I picture fucking her from behind with that perfect ass and those lacy stockings rubbing against my skin. Those black, thigh-highs have a thin line that runs up the center of her legs, and I want to touch that line; trace it with my finger until it disappears inside her.

  Tyler can’t believe his eyes and shoots me a look of awe and whispers, “Lucky bastard.”

  I smile, because if she signs that agreement, I know I’ll be the luckiest bastard. After she clocks in for her shift, she takes her place behind the bar and begins delegating tasks to the rest of the help. I’m completely mesmerized by her.

  As soon as the doors open, the upstairs and downstairs are completely flooded with people who are eager to celebrate a night of love. Upstairs, all of the women are decked out in their sweetest, most expensive gowns, handbags, and accessories. The husband’s match their attire with formal wear to compliment such pretty dresses.