Trick

  Harlow stands on her tiptoes and presses her mouth to mine.

  “I love you,” she says on my lips.

  “Harlow Mills, I never stopped loving you.”

  I pull back just enough to see a smile creep across her face, and also to see Rochelle slipping out the front door to a waiting cab. I momentarily contemplate going after her, offering to drive her home, but it may just start shit with her all over again. Besides that, some tool in a suit is eyeing Harlow from across the room. I can feel his stare boring into her.

  “Come on, let’s go to my office,” I say, pulling her behind me. “Do you have another performance?”

  “Nope, I’m finished for the night.”

  I close the door behind us, and lead her over to my desk. I sit down on top of it and pull her in between my legs, running my hands up and down her thighs, wondering what kind of panties she’s got under that tiny skirt.

  “You want to head out, then?” I pull her earlobe into my mouth and nip at it with my teeth, hoping to entice her to leave with me. To get away from this group of assholes.

  “ I do. But not yet,” she says.

  “You’re killing me, Harlow.”

  “I know.” She reaches up under my t-shirt and runs her palm over my chest, fingers splayed, tracing the contours and driving me fucking crazy. “I just have this rush from performing. I want to stay out a little longer. This night feels amazing! Please,” she coos, while she’s unzipping my pants.

  “Fuck me, Harlow. You know I’m going to give you whatever you want, kitten. You want to stay, we’ll stay. I just don’t like the way all those assholes are looking at you.”

  “Who cares,” she says. She gives my jeans a tug till they are at my knees. “They all know I’m here with you now.”

  I like the sound of that.

  “I know, but some of those jerks might not respect that.”

  “They will. And if they don’t, I can take care of myself, you know. I did it for the last three years just fine.” Her voice wavers, though, and I feel like the moment is lost between us.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been there with you.”

  “You’re here now,” she says. She unbuttons her silky blouse. I run my hands up her stomach, across her chest, then push the shirt off of her shoulders and unhook her black, lace bra.

  “That I am,” I moan. I pull at the zipper on the back of her skirt and let the scrap of material fall, finally giving me a peek of what’s underneath. The black lace panties hug her ass in a way that should be illegal. “Let me see these, spin around.” I guide her, with my hands on her hips, in a circle. There’s a keyhole-shaped cutout on the back of them, tied together with a light pink bow. “These...” I swallow. “These are incredibly sexy. You are incredibly sexy.”

  Harlow turns back to me, hooks her fingers in the sides and slides them down the length of her legs, then steps out of them. The woman of my fucking dreams is standing in front of me in nothing but fishnet knee-highs and high heels. I am not worthy, I know this for sure. I hop up off of the desk and try to pull her into me, but instead, she reaches inside my boxers and grips my dick, which is already throbbing at attention.

  “So, I was thinking,” she says, staring up at me as she strokes me. “You’re going to have to back off when it comes to my work. This wasn’t the gig I thought it was going to be tonight, but it’s still a job. I need to get all of the experience I can now so that when I move to New York, I’ll have an entire resume, not just a pipe dream.”

  “New York?” I grunt. I’m trying to pay attention, but god, this feels good.

  “Yes. That’s my dream, you know that.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “I want to make the move soon. And when I do, I hope you’ll come with me. But if you can’t right away, I don’t want you starting stuff with me because you think I’m out sleazing it up. This is just a job, Gunner. A job I love. You just have to trust me.”

  “I trust you,” I say. I do. But even if I didn’t, I’d tell the woman anything she wanted to hear right now just to make sure she didn’t stop touching me.

  “Promise?” she asks.

  “Promise, baby. I promise to always do whatever makes you happy.” God, I mean it.

  “Good,” Harlow says. She smiles, then drops to her knees. She takes my dick into her perfect mouth and sucks on me hungrily.

  “Oh, Jesus, Harlow, you’re a goddess.”

  She takes me deeper into her mouth, while one hand strokes me softly. I knot my fingers into her hair and watch as she bobs back and forth. She lets out a small noise that sounds like a purr and the vibration on my dick drives me crazy.

  “I am not going to last long, baby,” I say. I feel like a fifteen-year-old, but the sight of her like this—it’s impossible.

  Harlow looks up with those gorgeous blues and locks eyes with me as I pump in and out of her mouth. Her tits bounce and I can see the perfect curve of her ass sticking out. I love that a skimpy pair of fishnets on those long dancer’s legs and a sky-high pair of heels are all that’s covering her body.

  “That is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  She keeps her eyes and her mouth on me as she cups my balls and strokes me, then takes her free hand and reaches down to slowly rub her clit.

  “You’re going to be the death of me, kitten,” I pant.

  Harlow moans as she simultaneously pleasures both of us. I can’t take it anymore.

  “I need you,” I say.

  I scoop her up and slam her back onto my desk.

  “Fuck me,” she murmurs.

  “Baby, we may like it rough, but what you and I do is never a fuck. I love you too much for that.” I thrust into her, and know that this is exactly where I belong.

  CHAPTER 13

  HARLOW

  “Well, I guess we could have gone home earlier like you wanted. It looks like the party has died down,” I say. The bar is still busy, but not nearly the flurry of people that were there before Gunner and I snuck off to his office.

  “I know you wanted to enjoy the party, but I can’t say I regret the choice to have our own, uh, private soiree.” Gunner’s voice is low and sexy, just like it was when he was telling me how sexy I looked while we had sex on his office desk.

  I grin and Gunner wraps a protective arm around me and pulls me close into his side.

  “Where you been, little brother?” Ryker yells from behind the bar.

  Gunner’s face falls and his body goes stiff. “What are you doing back there, Ry?”

  “Jared looked beat. I told him to head out. Figured that was okay since you were here and all.”

  Gunner runs his palm across the stubble on his cheeks. “Not cool, dude. You don’t even have a liquor license, I could get in major shit for that.”

  “Sorry, bro,” Ryker says, throwing his hands up in surrender.

  Gunner sighs. “Whatever, just get out of here. I’ll take care of the drinks. You’re about done, right?”

  Ryker pulls his phone out of his back pocket and checks the time. “Hardly, brother, it’s still early!”

  Gunner stares back at him. “No, you’re almost done for the night. Bro.”

  Ryker glances back and forth between Gunner and I. “You’d think that hitting that fine piece of ass would make you less of a dickhole,” Ryker says.

  Gunner wastes no time. He has Ryker by the shirt and is in his face before I blink.

  “Gunner, calm down, he was just joking,” I say, pawing at Gunner to let his brother go.

  Gunner releases the fist full of shirt, but doesn’t unlock his eyes from Ryker’s. “I said get out of my face. I’ll handle the drinks.”

  “Whatever,” Ryker mutters and starts to walk away.

  I smooth down Gunner’s t-shirt. “Oh, and Ryker,” Gunner calls. “My register better be to the penny.”

  “Fuck off,” Ryker mutters under his breath as he stalks away.

  “Gunner,” I say, my voice low and soothing. “You did
n’t have to be so upset with him. He’s just having a good time.”

  Gunner leaves my side to walk behind the bar, not making eye contact when he answers me.

  “Ryker is nothing but trouble. We all are.”

  I roll my eyes. “Alright, Exaggeration Hunt.”

  “I mean it.” Gunner looks up, his green eyes dark. “This is what I was talking about all the times I tried to warn you about my family. I can’t help that Ryker’s an asshole. I can’t help that I have a mad jealous temper. But I can help that you have to be subjected to it.”

  “What? That they try to help out so your staff can leave early? Oh, no!” I give a crazed hand gesture and face and Gunner cracks a smile.

  “Just trust me on this one. I used my money to try to better myself. Even if this is just a dive bar, it’s mine. My house is mine. No one can take it. Ryker and the rest of my family are just pissing their shares away.”

  Gunner slides an Amaretto Sour toward me and I take a sip through the tiny straw.

  “That’s good,” I say, gesturing to the glass. Gunner nods. He takes pride in this place, in his skill, even if he doesn’t like to admit it.

  “So,” I say. I pull the cherry out of my cup, and bite it off of the stem. Gunner watches me like I’m going to disappear if he blinks. “When you say that your dad gave you a share of the money from the...indiscretion, how much are you talking about?” It doesn’t matter. I’d take Gunner penniless, it’s strictly curiosity.

  He pulls his brows together. His signature sign of not really wanting to talk about something.

  “It was...it was a decent amount. I invested my share well, thanks to the help of some people who are a thousand times smarter than I’ll ever be. I made a nice profit and decided, what the hell, I’ll buy this place.”

  “Wow. That’s impressive, Gunner. When I left town after...”

  “I’m sorry,” he says, as if he’ll never be able to say it enough.

  I shake my head. I’m being ridiculous. I’ve got to let the past stay there. What Gunner and I have now is real, and so damn good. “When I left town, you were on the verge of sleeping in your car, Gunner. You’ve really turned your life around. I’m proud of you.”

  “You don’t have to say that, love.”

  “I mean it. I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Who you are.”

  “I’m proud to be with you.” Gunner nods shyly. He’s not entirely comfortable talking about himself like this. He doesn’t know how to take credit for what he’s accomplished.

  “What made you decide to buy a bar?”

  Gunner smiles as he wipes down the grimy counter. “Why not? I spent the better part of a year trying to drink away the memory of you, so I was experienced and good at pouring booze.”

  “And Old Daniels’s place?” I lean forward and love the way he looks down my shirt.

  Gunner runs a hand through that gorgeous hair.

  “I know the farm isn’t really my style, but I love that place. And I loved Mr. and Mrs. Daniel’s. And, fine, so maybe I was secretly or subconsciously hoping if I bought it, someday it might be a proper home for me...and the woman I love.”

  “Me?” I ask, my smile so wide, it hurts my cheeks.

  He cocks and eyebrow and gives me the sweetest half grin. “Always you.”

  “I love you,” I mouth, loving the way he watches my lips.

  I lean in and kiss Gunner, not caring that we’re in a room full of people. He slides his tongue between my lips and his warm breath fills my mouth. Ecstasy.

  “How much longer till we can leave?” I ask between kisses.

  “Soon, kitten. So soon. Let me just run out back and make sure the dumpster is unlocked, since tomorrow is trash day. Then I just gotta close out the register. Won’t be long.” I can tell from the way his eyes look me up and down hungrily that he’ll make sure it doesn’t take long at all.

  “Good.” I sip my drink and wink at him.

  “Alright, everybody! Last call!” Gunner yells. A chorus of moans and curses fills the room and a line develops quickly. Gunner mixes and pours drink after drink until the line has dissipated.

  “I’ll be right back, gorgeous,” he says. Gunner kisses me quickly, then walks to the back of the bar. I love this new level of responsibility he has. It’s not only good for him, seeing him stable and in charge of his life is a major turn on.

  “I was hoping I’d get a chance to talk to you alone,” a man’s voice says. I look to my left and there’s now a stranger sitting in the barstool next to me. He’s in his late thirties, I’d guess. A nice-looking man, in a dress shirt and loose tie. His hair was probably combed nicely earlier, but at this late hour, and probably one-too-many, it’s falling in his face.

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?” I ask, using my best business voice.

  “No, no. I’m Jim. Jim Lawson. I saw you dance.” His tongue darts out of his mouth and he runs it along his upper lip. Gross.

  “Well, I hope I did okay. I was nervous,” I say. I’m trying to be polite, just like I was always taught.

  “Darlin’, you were more than okay. You were incredible. You were energetic and lively...and I hope you don’t mind me saying—I mean, of course you don’t, you girls know what you do—you were very sexy up there.”

  I stare down at my fingers in my lap. This is definitely one of those times when I think I’m being complimented, but I’m so skeeved out, I just want to dart away. “Thank you.”

  “Now, don’t misunderstand, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, darlin’.”

  “No, no, it’s not that,” I rush to say. Even though it is that.

  He tosses his head back and polishes off whatever dark liquor he’s drinking. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.

  “No, no thank you.” I shake my head adamantly. Even though my warm buzz is gone, I wouldn’t drink a sip this guy offered. I look around for Gunner, but he must still be caught up in the back.

  He leans closer and runs a finger along my arm. “You sure? I’d really like to.”

  I yank my arm back and pull it close. “My boyfriend owns the place, so it’s not necessary.”

  “I see.” He nods, dropping the low talk and smiles all of a sudden. “Well, then I’ll get straight to my point. I own a large car dealership, you see. And I’ll be honest, business isn’t what it used to be. But honey, if one thing is true forevermore it’s that sex sells. I’ve been thinking about paying to have some nice, professional commercials made up to help with sales and all, and I sure would love it if you would be on them, dancing how you do.”

  “Sir, that’s, wow... That’s very flattering, but I don’t think burlesque dancing is going to help you sell some trucks.”

  “I don’t sell trucks, sweetheart. I sell Ferraris. Did you know that over ninety-percent of the customers are men? And, with all due respect, ma’am, I think you moving around like you do could convince any man to buy anything.”

  His eyes travel down my neck, and settle on my breasts. I wish I’d buttoned this shirt up to the very top button. But I was with Gunner up until a few minutes ago, it wasn’t a problem then.

  I feel the heat on my face spread down my neck.

  “We can switch up your dancing and costume to whatever you’re comfortable with, of course. And you’ll be compensated well, I promise you that.”

  I try to swallow, but there isn’t much moisture in my mouth. I clear my throat and manage to warble, “I don’t even know what to say, I’ve never really thought about commercials.”

  “I understand. You can take some time to think it over. It wouldn’t be just limited to this one commercial, though. I’d stake my company on it that business picks up after seeing you in the commercials.” He leans away from the bar and I feel his eyes on my bum.

  Mr. Lawson pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and blots his mouth with it. Is he drooling? “I’m thinking we’ll make a new one every season, maybe even for holiday sales, too. A new costume, a new dance routine. I’m telli
ng you, I bet those Ferrari’s will be flying off the lot.”

  “That’s quite the offer.” I swallow hard.

  “Then there’s also the charity functions. My wife and I are on the board of several different committees and we're always looking for entertainment for the gala’s and banquets. I feel sure you would help increase donations and overall support, darlin’.”

  “Wow, you’re putting a lot of confidence in me, Mr. Lawson.”

  “I’ve been known to go after what I want,” he says. He pulls a business card holder out of his front shirt pocket and slides one of his cards my way. “When I know it’ll be worth it. And it’s Jim, please, call me Jim. I have a feeling you and I are going to have a great...partnership.”

  He pats me on the leg and lets his hand linger a little too long on my thigh. I’m about to pull back, to politely tell him that I’ll consider his offer and get the hell away before he gets grabbier, when something causes Mr. Lawson to fly off the stool, his arms and legs in the air, a startled scream breaking from his lips.

  Gunner has the man in a headlock, his powerful arm hooked under Mr. Lawson’s chin, his fist raised above his face.

  “I’ve been watching you undress her with your goddamn eyes all night, you fucking pervert!” Gunner screams. His fist snaps forward and it connects squarely with Mr. Lawson’s nose. Blood spurts everywhere. “You wait till I’m not around to start pawing all over her? You’re gonna regret you ever looked her way, fucker!”

  Gunner punches him in the face again, and Mr. Lawson groans.

  “Gunner!” I yell. “Stop it! Please, dear god, stop!” I try like hell to pull him off of Mr. Lawson, but I’m no match for his strong arms on a normal day, never mind when he’s in a fury. “Help! Someone please help!”

  Ryker is the first one to reach Gunner’s side and yanks on his brother with all of his strength. Gunner fights it, but Ryker is able to get him off of Mr. Lawson.

  I rush to Gunner and immediately start pounding on his chest with my own fists. “What the hell are you doing?!” I scream.

  “He was touching you, Harlow!” His eyes are glazed with some kind of crazy madness that makes him look like someone I don’t know.