Not very long but long enough to get the information she needed for her story. Guilt ate at her but she shoved it aside. “And when am I supposed to have my…uh…date?”
“This coming Friday, so that gives you seven days to get to the spa and get all your girlie parts properly attended to. Plus, Jenna can figure out what she’s going to put you in. We’ll get you directions on time and place and we’ll only have a week to keep you from freaking out.” Cyn nodded when she finished speaking as if it were all said and done.
Laila guessed it kind of was.
She opened her mouth to haggle over details, cold feet already making an appearance, when a man stepped up to their table.
“Hello, ladies,” a cultured voice spoke above the din of the bar crowd behind him.
Laila looked up and her mind blanked.
One of the other men who had been standing beside Douglas behind the bar earlier, now stood close enough that she could smell his expensive aftershave.
She studied him while all the rest of the girls said their hellos and he kissed the back of each of their hands.
He was tan, as in natural tan, as in he’d look perfect on a deserted island with no clothes on tan. The graying at his temples made him look distinguished and oh-so sexy and Laila couldn’t find her voice, even when he turned his brown eyes on her.
“And you are, mademoiselle?” His faint Latin accent was charming as well as enticing. “Certainly I would have remembered meeting a woman as lovely as yourself.”
She lifted her hand, placing it in his even though she still couldn’t speak.
He brushed his lips over the back of her hand and she could have sworn his tongue made the briefest appearance on her skin.
“This is Laila, Hector. She’s visiting for a little while and we met her at the strip. We’re giving her the grand tour a little at a time and of course CJ’s is on it.”
He bowed in Jenna’s direction then brought his attention right back to Laila. He hadn’t let go of her hand yet and interestingly enough she decided she kind of liked it.
“Laila? As intoxicating as wine.” The meaning of her name. “Woefully inadequate description in your case, pretty lady.” He kissed her hand again and pulled her to her feet.
She was so slack-jawed over the attention and how sexy he was, she stared at him completely forgetting how to speak.
“Would you care to dance with an old-timer such as myself? I’m not as good as I use to be, but I think I can still manage to swing a lovely woman around the dance floor for a song or two.”
One of her favorite bands was playing over the sound system. System of a Down.
Laila’s mind was still blank so she scrambled for something to say. “I’d hate to leave my…” She almost said “friends” but stopped herself. “I would hate to interrupt your night either. I’m sure you have more important things to—”
Skye answered for her. “She’d love to.”
All of the girls shooed them away from the table before Laila could make up her mind either way. Haleigh called out to her. “We’ll watch your purse for you.”
Laila almost gave her a thumbs up behind her back. But being afraid she might flip them off instead for throwing her to the wolves, well wolf, she kept her free hand clutched into a fist.
Hector still hadn’t dropped her hand and he used it to pull her in a small circle and right into his arms. The song playing was fast-paced and she was about to comment about it but as if the music gods read her mind it changed into a slow melody with a Latin beat.
Hector moved her around a small section of the dance floor. It was packed with people but somehow he never nudged her into another couple. He led her exactly where he wanted her to be and she felt beautiful while in his arms.
For parts of it he held her close, pressing on her lower back so most of her body was flush against him. His hard-on between them tucked against her stomach, making her more than a little aware of how virile he was. His lovely voice hummed the melody of the song in her ear and she couldn’t help but melt just a little bit.
“So, how do you like our little piece of Arcadia, Laila?”
The way he said her name made her imagine him saying it against her pussy as he licked her clit on both L’s. She cleared her throat, trying to tamp down the arousal pulsing through her groin. “It’s very pretty. Not what I expected, though.”
“What do you mean? How is it different?” He twirled her around so she could see the girls over his shoulder. They gave her the thumbs up or clapped and Skye put two fingers in her mouth and whistled.
Laila chuckled, looking Hector in the face. “The people have been much more welcoming than I expected.”
He moved them so he could see what she was looking at and laughed. It wasn’t self-conscious or too loud or arrogant. It sounded pretty perfect to her ears. He tugged her close once again. She laid her cheek on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. While he moved her in a slow circle, she nuzzled her nose against his throat, inhaling his scent, wanting some piece of him inside her.
A low rumble echoed in his chest and his hand tightened on her hip.
An answering whimper slipped past her lips and she froze, backing up enough to look into his face. She licked her lips and stared at his mouth, right at her eye level.
“Intoxicating is quite right,” he said as he smoothed the hair in her ponytail, the backs of his knuckles brushing the tip of her breast as he released her hair.
She should be outraged, disgusted at his brazen gesture in the middle of his dimly lit bar. But it was sexy. And hot. And delicious. And she wanted more of it.
His palm found her cheek and he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. Her intake of breath startled her, so she latched onto his biceps to regain her balance.
The world still tilted as he laid his mouth on hers. He kissed her with a passion she’d only read about, slipping his tongue past her lips to taste her.
She moaned and then he leaned away.
Laila blinked several times, trying to focus, and realized someone was speaking next to them. “May I cut in?”
At first she thought it was Douglas but when she looked over she realized it was the other owner. The blond one. “Patrick?” she said out loud, not really meaning to.
“I see your reputation precedes you, my friend,” Hector kidded. “’Til we meet again, my lovely Laila.” He kissed her cheek and then stepped away.
Before she could even process what the hell happened, Patrick had stepped in front of her and taken her into his arms.
“But…”
“No buts.”
She was a well-educated woman. She was. Really. She had a degree in marketing and a master’s degree in journalism. But around these men and the women at the table looking dreamily at her, her brain turned to putty.
Instead of fighting it and her attraction to a third man in one evening, she just went with it. She pressed her cheek on his chest. He pulled her in close, snuggling with her even though they were both vertical. His warm hand cupped the back of her neck, kneading tense muscles she didn’t even know she had.
The song bled into another one and he held her close through the whole song. His cologne made her pussy even wetter and she brushed her cheek against the logo on his T-shirt.
She’d just met these men, had hardly spoken to them, but she felt some kind of connection she couldn’t understand.
When the song changed to an upbeat tempo he stopped moving, firmly grabbing her ponytail at the back of her head, and slowly tipped her head up to look at him.
Her knees were weak, her fingers flexed against his back, scraping her nails against the soft fabric of his shirt. His nostrils flared when her eyes finally met his and her mouth opened. Not to tell him to stop and not to give him permission to kiss her because he already held the reins on her desire.
“Please…” slipped out into the space of the few inches that separated them.
“Fuck yeah,” passed his lips before he took her mouth. He
nipped her bottom lip, making her jump, then tucked her pelvis closer to his so she could feel exactly how excited he was to make her acquaintance.
Yep, that was about all she could take without coming on his leg. She reared back, licking her bottom lip, knowing exactly where he’d nipped her because it was faintly raised, probably enough to leave a mark the next day.
Instead of pouncing on him right there in the middle of his bar she took a step back and blushed. “Thank you, for the dance and the, uhh…welcome?” Her cheeks grew warmer and she actually laid her palms against them and looked around for the first time since Patrick had stepped in. No one seemed to be paying them any mind but to her everyone stared right at her.
“I have to go. Thanks.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he called to her back.
She ran back to the booth. Seriously, she left skid marks on the floor they were going to have to buff out. She grabbed her purse and gave a perfunctory good night to the girls, who were all smiling.
She took her keys and phone out of her purse as she tried to hide her embarrassment.
On the way to the door she saw a text from her boss. “Anything yet?”
Her fingers hovered over the keys.
I need that promotion.
I don’t owe the people of this town anything.
They don’t know me.
“Nothing yet.” Her answer surprised her.
The card in her purse nearly burned her when she slipped her phone back inside the middle section.
Someone’s eyes were on her. She could feel them as she made her way to the door. Before she pushed it open, unable to stop herself, she turned back.
Douglas’ gaze snagged hers immediately. He was still behind the bar but he was breathing heavy. Something primal and dark and delicious passed over his face. The once-over he gave her made her feel naked and vulnerable and so damn sexy.
Could they be the men at The Library?
She shook her head, trying desperately to clear it as she pushed out the door.
All she wanted to do was turn around and run to them, offer herself to them. As in down on her knees for anything they wanted to do with her, to her.
How sick did that make her?
Sex was one thing.
A one-night stand sounded even better.
No entanglements.
No room for heartache or jealousy.
She walked quickly to her car and got in, locking the doors behind her.
Her head hit the headrest before her purse had even settled on the passenger seat.
Three rough and rugged faces swam in her head.
Did they each know the other two were flirting with her, kissing her?
Surely they had to know.
She blew out a frustrated breath, starting the car, putting it in gear. She had a lot of thinking to do.
Chapter Three
One week later almost to the hour, Laila pulled past the security gate after flashing her white guest card.
She drove around a tree-lined curve and if the President of the United States had been bouncing on a trampoline naked on the front lawn of the White House she wouldn’t have been more surprised.
The Library.
It wasn’t a warehouse hidden in the bowels of the city, or an underground room where people huddled like rats in the dark.
The mansion, yes mansion, sat on the edge of town not too far off the beaten path. It looked like any of the other affluent residences she’d passed on her way, following the directions the girls had given her several days earlier when she told them she was really really going to show up.
Her job was the reason she decided to go and not slink away with her tail tucked between her legs.
The reason she spent the day before treating herself to a Brazilian wax and body peel? Yeah. Jury was still out on that one.
She slowed down as the entire house—club—den of iniquity came into view.
Jackson—she thought that’s what the security guard’s name was—had greeted her. He had smiled, checked her card and her ID, then looked at his watch. “Cutting it a bit close for a first time?”
The girls told her she had to be inside the gate by ten o’clock. New security rules in place meant they locked the gate at ten and nobody else could get in.
“I was a bit nervous,” she answered honestly when he’d handed her cards back.
“Understandable.” He had smiled again, told her where to go and that a valet driver would meet her at the front entry.
She’d watched him talk into some kind of walkie-talkie as she drove away.
That was one gigantic dude she definitely wouldn’t want to tangle with. His hands were the size of dinner plates and she shuddered to think what he would do to her if he found out why she was sent there to begin with.
Hyperventilating became a real possibility as she pulled up at the front of the stone building. The valet driver stepped up to her door as soon as she put it into park. He opened it, holding it for her as she grabbed her purse and another small bag. She took his outstretched hand as he helped her step free. He was cute, young and made the butterflies in her stomach dance when she wondered why he worked there. What exactly were the perks of the job when you worked at a bona fide sex club?
Dressed in black pants, a green blouse and silver flats, she turned in a full circle as the valet took her car and drove it farther along the drive, presumably to some type of parking facility. It was well hidden, if nothing else, since she could see nothing but opulent lawns and trees, as well as beautiful landscaping. The splash and gurgle of water drew her attention to a fountain not ten feet behind her.
“Wow,” she whispered under her breath.
A slight “ahem” caught her attention and she faced the front door again. One of the double doors stood open and it was being held by a very handsome man with dark hair.
She took a deep breath and made her way across the concrete drive, up half a flight of stairs until she reached her greeter. “Hello,” she said to him as soon as she cleared the last step.
“Laila?”
“Yes. You are?”
“Nick.” He took her hand and pumped it firmly a couple times, quickly releasing it and motioning her inside the vestibule.
The door closed behind them and he wasted no time looming over her even though he remained a couple feet away. “ID and card.”
The space they stood in was probably a twelve-by-twelve room in a lovely shade of who the fuck cared. The walls seemed to close in on her as she fumbled for what he’d asked for.
He knows, he knows kept running through her mind as she handed them over. Her hands shook and there was no way he could have missed it.
There were paintings on two of the walls and Laila decided the one over his shoulder was fascinating. Could have been a black and white of Miss Piggy doing Kermit with a strap-on for all she actually paid attention to it.
She alternated between holding her breath and wheezing. It was probably not even audible to Nick, who was holding her card between his palms and staring at her.
He glanced at both sides of her membership card again, then handed both cards back. “All four girls. Someone’s quite popular.”
She didn’t say a word, having no clue what answer he was searching for.
“Purse,” he barked and held out his hand.
She handed it over, still clutching her cards in her fist.
He rifled through her purse like she was a thief and she had no reason to tell him otherwise. She started feeling like the room was shrinking when he handed her cell back over to her.
“Turn it completely off and let me watch you do it.”
She pushed several buttons, showing him each fumbling step until the screen went black. He nodded and handed her purse back, seemingly satisfied she didn’t have anything they considered dangerous.
When she went to put the cards back up he stayed her hand and she shivered at his warm fingers on her cold arm. “Not yet. You’ll want to kee
p them handy for the next step.”
“Another one?”
He simply nodded once again but didn’t elaborate. Talk about a man with no extra words to spare.
He went over to another door behind him and knocked. Then he placed his thumb on some kind of fingerprint reader. The door, which had no handle, popped open and Nick pulled it wide, ushering her through. Laila held her breath again, wondering what now?
A woman behind a desk the size of Rhode Island stood and smiled at her like she was the Queen of England. It took her a second but then she hissed out a breath.
“Cyn?” She was hardly recognizable without the khakis and Kinky Pinky V-neck T-shirt she normally had on when she was over at the strip. Not that it made any difference at all, but if she was cute normally, she was a fucking knockout in the leather and lace outfit she had on. Black leather miniskirt, white lace blouse, hair twisted up in some kind of bun with small glasses framing her pretty face.
She came around the desk, revealing stockings and heels. She was like a naughty librarian come to life. Laila was wrapped in a great big hug and Cyn didn’t back away all of a sudden. For that Laila was immensely thankful. There wasn’t a time in recent days when she’d needed a shoulder more than she did right then.
“Sorry for the necessary security. We have people attempting to gain entry all the time.” She gave her one last squeeze then motioned her into a chair in front of her desk.
“Does everyone have to go through all of this?”
Cyn nodded before she even finished asking. “Once you’re a full member you can park in the garage downstairs and come and go as you please but all guests have to use the front entry. One of the heads of security will greet you—”
“Greet? That’s a bit nicer of a description than I would have given to…Nick, was it?”
Cyn smiled with obvious affection. “He can be a bit gruff until you get to know him but he’s really sweet.”
“Uh-huh,” was all she could think to say and finally sat down. Collapsed was more apt a description but she shoved that into the folder in her brain marked you can’t handle the truth.
“Okay, one more step, your final paperwork. You’ll officially be a guest member of The Library and we’ll get your tour underway. The girls and I have been chomping at the bit for you to get here.” The super-hot and amazingly gorgeous woman took her seat behind the desk again. “I’ll admit to being a bit nervous that you weren’t going to show up, the later it got.”
Laila's Lies Page 3