The Exposé 3

by Sloane, Roxy

  “Do you have someplace to go?” I frown.

  “My sister’s place, in New Jersey.” She looks worn-out. “But then I have to get to work here, every day. Hector!” she yells, to one of the kids playing in the street. “Don’t touch that!”

  I help her load up the car. “I’m sorry this happened. Good luck with the new place,” I offer, feeling helpless.

  She glances past me, and her gaze turns fearful. “You shouldn’t be asking questions around here,” she says quickly, “Come on, kids.”

  I turn to see what made her scared. A couple of guys are loitering on the other side of the street, watching us. They’re tough-looking, muscular and scowling. One of them pulls out his phone and makes a call.

  The woman shoves the kids in the car and drives away, but the men don’t move. They stay there, watching me.

  I quickly start walking in the other direction, but when I turn back to check, the men are following me: slowly strolling, about half a block back.

  I walk quicker, almost breaking into a run as I head for a busier area. One block, two… every step I take, I’m scared to turn in case they’re drawing near. When I see a busy intersection up ahead, I could cry with relief. I turn the corner and quickly dash into a Dollar Store. I hang back in the aisles, checking through the window until the men walk past.

  I sag back, my heart pounding. Who were they? And what did they want?

  Maybe I’m being paranoid, but this Dimas stuff is setting me on edge. The more questions I ask, the deeper I get-- and something tells me, the answers won’t be pretty.

  But I have to keep digging. For Dax.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  DAX

  After blowing up at Dominique, I try my best to keep my temper at the club and not cause any more scenes. I stay in my office, away from the party atmosphere, and think hard.

  Nikolai isn’t going anywhere, but even now that I know exactly what he wants - leverage over this politician -- I’m still no closer to a solution. Sneaking those security workmen in here was a bold move, and it would have paid off for him if I hadn’t caught them at the last minute.

  I came so close to fucking up big-time, and all because I was too focused on Zoe to pay attention to what’s right in front of me.

  Zoe.

  I see a flash of her blue eyes in my mind, and those juicy lips parted in a sinful moan.

  I can’t get her out of my head.

  I pull my laptop closer and run a quick search, typing the name she told me into the search box. For a split-second, I wonder if even that was true, but then the results start piling up. Investigative reporting articles, photos of her on the staff of the college newspaper. No wonder she came up with a fake identity -- I would have busted her in a heartbeat with this résumé!

  Through my anger, I can’t help but feel a stab of admiration. Coming here undercover was a gutsy move. It shows she’s smart, and resourceful too.

  Not to mention lying and manipulative.

  I slam the laptop shut. I didn’t expect to feel so betrayed. Women have tried to screw me over before, and I never dwelt on it. I just put them aside, and move on. But for some reason, Zoe’s duplicity keeps burning at me.

  I saw something in her. A stubborn ambition that just wouldn’t quit.

  It reminded me of myself.

  A knock breaks through my thoughts, and then the door opens. My buddy, Cam, leans in holding a bottle of scotch. “I heard you were sulking back here,” he says cheerfully, then enters the room. “Glenlivet twenty year.”

  “I know,” I reply wryly. “I ordered it in stock myself.”

  Cam pours us both a drink and then settles back in a seat. He looks past me to the two-way mirror I have installed, giving me a front-seat view of the main room of the club. “I don’t see your waitress working tonight,” he says, giving me a sly look.

  “She’s not my waitress, and I fired her.” I gulp the scotch.

  Cam raises his eyebrow. “Damn. I was hoping to watch you guys go another round. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone talk back to you like that,” he adds with a smile.

  I grit my teeth. “It’s not a good thing.”

  “Sure it is.” Cam gives me a look. “When was the last time you dated someone who challenged you?”

  “I date plenty,” I argue.

  “Yes, but they’re all nice, polite girls with a submissive streak.” He grins. “You need someone to push back a little. You’re so used to running the world here, you need a partner. An equal.”

  I try to shut down this line of conversation. “It’s a moot point. She was an undercover journalist, trying to expose the club.”

  Cam hoots with laughter, then stops. “Wait, did she get anything on you?”

  I shake my head, and take another gulp. “I don’t think so. But it was close. That’s the last time I let my dick do the screening on new applicants.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” Cam offers. “But that doesn’t change what I said. One of these days, you’re going to need a real relationship. Nobody should have to carry everything alone.”

  “Wait, wasn’t I the one giving you this talk last year?” I grumble.

  “Times change.” He grins. “Think about it. I know you’ve been focused on building the business, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that all the money and power in the world doesn’t mean a bloody thing if there’s nobody to enjoy it with you.”

  “I’m not short of companions,” I remind him, nodding to the mirror and the view of the club.

  “Something real,” he corrects me. “Someone who makes you feel something.”

  “Right now, I’m feeling a need for another scotch,” I tell him smoothly. “You want to pony up that bottle and pour another drink?”

  *

  I spend the rest of the night making sure everything’s running smoothly, but as I head home in the early hours of the morning, Cam’s words haunt me.

  Feel something...

  Zoe makes me feel, alright: anger and frustration. From the moment we met, she’s refused to let me take the upper hand. The irony is, her mystery is what drew me to her -- and now I’m facing the consequences.

  “Dax?”

  I get out of the car in front of my building, then stop. Zoe is waiting outside the door, wrapped up in a big coat against the early morning chill. “Dax, please, we need to talk.”

  I glare. “I have nothing to say to you.”

  I stride to the door and unlock it, but she follows me inside.

  “Listen to me,” Zoe begs, as I yank the elevator grille open. “I’m sorry, OK? I didn’t think it through. I never meant to lie to you like that.”

  “You mean you accidentally stole your friend’s identity and applied for a job under a fake name?” I say, trying to keep cool. She’s not worth it, I tell myself, even as I register her blue eyes, and the way she pouts her lower lip in frustration.

  She flushes. “I meant, what happened between us.”

  “There is nothing between us,” I lie. “You were just another perk of the job.”

  She looks up, her expression flaring. “That’s not true, and you know it.”

  “Truth?” I freeze. My anger comes, hot and edged with lust. “You’re really going to stand there and talk to me about lying, after what you did--”

  I can’t stop myself. I grab her by the waist, and push her back into the elevator. Zoe gasps as she hits the wall, but I can see the desire written all over her face.

  Her pupils dilate. The heat between us is off the charts. Damn this chemistry, making me want her when I know she’s the last woman in the world I should be touching.

  But I can’t pull away.

  “Dax…” she whispers. “Tell me what I can do to make you trust me again.”

  “Nothing,” I growl. But trust isn’t what I need right now. Not with her tits pressed up against me, her pussy so close I can almost taste it.

  I want her.

  “Please--” she says again, but I don’t
let her finish.

  I kiss her hard, claiming her mouth in a brutal embrace. Zoe tenses, but I don’t relent. With a moan, she submits, reaching up to lock her arms around my neck and press even harder into me.

  Fuck, she feels so good.

  I yank her coat aside and run my hands over her body. Zoe lets out a whimper, eagerly pressing her breasts into my hands. I roughly squeeze her, palming those stiff nipples and grinding my hard cock between her legs.

  My last shred of sense knows I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t stop. There’s an animal need in me, demanding satisfaction.

  I won’t let her get the best of me this time.

  “Turn around,” I growl, pushing her so she’s pressed against the elevator wall. I hit the ‘up’ button then yank her skirt up, reaching between her thighs as I keep her pinned to the wall.

  She’s wet. Slick with desire. The elevator stops but neither of us makes a move to step off.

  “Dax--” she tries to speak.

  “Don’t talk,” I order her. “No more of your lies.” I yank her thong to the side and curl my fingers up inside her, feeling her body clench around me. “See? Your body tells the truth, at least. You can’t hide what you need, can you, Zoe? You want me to fuck you.”

  I rub her clit, and she moans, grinding against my fingers.

  “Tell me the truth,” I demand. “Tell me one goddamn thing that’s true.”

  Zoe twists her head to look at me. Her expression is raw need.

  “I do want you,” she manages to say. “I want you to fuck me, Dax.”

  I grab her hair and yank her head back, so she sees the steel in my eyes.

  “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down without thinking of me.”

  I undo my belt and take out my cock.

  I’m going to possess her, brand her. Bury myself so deep that I forget the lies and betrayal, forget everything except her tight, wet sweetness.

  I spread her legs wider and grip her hips, tilting them up towards me. Her hands are braced against the wall as I rip off her panties.

  “I don’t know if I want to fuck you or spank you.”

  She inhales, her breath catching in arousal.

  “How about I just do both?” I finger her again—she’s wet and ready for me, but before I slam into her I give her a nice firm smack on the ass. She stifles a groan of pleasure, her face pressed to the wall.

  “You like that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she murmurs, sticking her ass out, closer to me. I don’t wait.

  I enter her hard and deep, thrusting into her with a low groan.

  Zoe moans loudly and arches back against me, embedding me even deeper in her juicy, tight cunt.

  Goddamn.

  I pump hard, slamming into her. Zoe can’t get enough, matching me stroke for stroke, bucking and grinding back into me. I drive up inside her harder and harder, squeezing those lush breasts as I thrust. Fuck, I’m getting close. She’s so tight, the friction is incredible, and I don’t want to stop.

  “Dax,” she moans my name. I can feel her cunt clenching around me, her whole body trembling. “Fuck, Dax!”

  I reach a hand between her thighs, rubbing her clit in time with my pounding cock. Her moans get louder, resonating inside the elevator. It’s like I’m listening to her get off in surround sound.

  Fuck. I could lose myself in her like this. In the heat, the tension. The delicious grip of her pussy, milking me for dear life. I can feel my climax building, but it’s too soon. Fuck, I need more from her.

  I pull out, then turn her around, grabbing her ass and lifting her onto me. I impale her with my cock and thrust her back against the wall. Deeper. Harder.

  Fuck yes.

  Zoe clings on tight. I can see her face now, just inches away. The arousal in her eyes, the hunger of her desire. It only makes me harder, so fucking good.

  “Yes,” she breathes, levering herself by my shoulders to sink down on my dick in time with every thrust. “Don’t stop.”

  I stop.

  She gasps for air, her eyes searching mine. “Dax?” Her voice is raw. “What--?”

  “This.” I slowly thrust, using my hips to grind deep, deeper than ever before. I sink in to the hilt, all the way to her G-spot.

  She groans.

  I ease back and then thrust again, slow and sure. A tortuous rhythm, but fuck, the noises she’s making now, low in her throat, it’s a total turn on.

  “You feel that?” I say, panting hard. I’m barely holding on here, but I need to prove it to her; prove I’ll always be the one on top. “That’s my dick going deeper than anyone’s ever fucked you before. I’m taking every inch of you.”

  “Yes.” Zoe’s eyes glaze.

  I grind against her clit as my cock stretches her wide open, claiming her tight cunt like nothing else on earth. Her mouth falls open, her whole body goes tense, and when she comes, I feel the force of her orgasm ricochet through the both of us.

  Her cunt convulses around me, gripping so goddamn tightly I can’t hold back a moment longer. With a grunt, I come, spurting inside her as the climax rips through my body. My anger, the lies, it all drains away as I pump inside her warm, willing body, feeling so goddamn right.

  Like she belongs to me.

  I reel back, pushing her away. Fuck. This was supposed to screw her out of my system, not cloud my judgement even more.

  I yank my pants back up. She looks disheveled and flushed, sexy as hell. I could carry her off to bed and go another five rounds before dawn; mark her body with my hands and mouth, fuck her until we both can’t walk come morning.

  She lied. You can’t trust her.

  I pull the grille open, stepping out into my apartment. Zoe makes to follow me, but I block the door.

  “You already got off,” I tell her, before yanking the grate shut. I hit the ‘down’ button, and step back.

  The last thing I see is the look of pure fury on her face as the elevator rattles down again, out of sight.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ZOE

  Who the hell does he think he is?

  I ride home in a furious daze, my body still humming with pleasure. That was without a doubt, the most sexy, wild, incredible encounter of my entire life. I almost wish it had been crappy and underwhelming like all my college hook-ups, because then at least then I would never want to see him again.

  Instead, the scene replays in my head for days, taunting me with hotness.

  I can’t believe he had the nerve to fuck me like that -- and then send me out the door. I should hate him, but instead, I can’t help getting caught up in memories of his hands, pinning me back against the wall; his mouth, hot and punishing on mine.

  His cock, driving hard inside me.

  It wasn’t arrogance when he said he was fucking me deeper than anyone had before, it was the truth. And now I can’t forget what it felt like, the incredible connection that pushed me beyond any pleasure I’ve ever experienced.

  I want to see him again-- it’s all I can think about-- but he still hates me. My attempt at an apology was an utter failure.

  So what am I supposed to do now?

  *

  My roommate, Tasha, finds me in my sweatpants in front of the TV. The exact same place I’ve been wallowing for three days now.

  “This is getting pathetic,” she says, surveying the mess of junk food wrappers. “No guy is worth it.”

  “You haven’t met Dax.” I reach for another Dorito. I still haven’t told her everything, just that Dax didn’t buy my apology. She thinks it’s just a regular break-up, she doesn’t know how complicated the whole situation is. Undercover lies, deception, and oh yes, incredibly hot sex. It’s nowhere near my normal romantic troubles.

  “Aww, babe.” Tasha gives me a sympathetic look. She’s all dressed up for another night on the town in a slinky cocktail dress and heels. “You can’t let him get to you. There are plenty more fish in the sea!”

  “Really?” I reply. “You h
appen to know any smoking hot, successful, principled guys who can make me come just by looking at me?”

  Tasha stifles a laugh. “OK, maybe not. But you need to get up off this couch and get out there again,” she adds. “You can’t put your life on hold just because some guy doesn’t know how to forgive and forget. Why don’t you come out with me tonight?” she suggests. “I’m working a big party uptown.”

  “Working?” I arch an eyebrow. We both know that Tasha’s Broadway dreams are still going strong despite all the unsuccessful casting calls lately, but she’s been keeping herself in designer clothes and luxury goods by doing more escort work on the side. And I don’t judge, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to follow in her footsteps.

  Tasha sees my expression and rolls her eyes. “Not that kind of work,” she smirks. “Just basic party hostessing. Mingle with the guests, make sure they feel important, get them having a good time.”

  “You mean, so all these guys think that hot girls actually want to talk to them?” I ask.

  Tasha laughs. “Basically. But it’s three hundred for the night, plus extra on every bottle you get them to order. And Dimas is generous with the bonuses.”

  I stop dead, recognizing the name. “Wait, this is for Nikolai Dimas?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s his name.” Tasha strolls to the mirror and touches up her lipstick. “They’ve been throwing a ton of events this month. Lots of boring finance and real estate guys, man, they can’t flirt to save their lives.”

  I think fast. Dax didn’t give me the time of day when I tried to say sorry before -- but that’s because I had nothing aside from my apology to offer him. I remember Tasha’s advice last week: to give him what he wants. And she’s right, Dax is definitely the kind of guy to value hard action over words.

  Hard, deep action...

  “You know what? I’m in,” I decide, getting to my feet. A shower of Doritos crumbles cascades to the floor. “Just, umm, maybe after I take a shower.”

  Tasha claps her hands together. “Yay! This is going to be so much fun. The other girls can be such bitches,” she adds. “Everyone’s trying to hit up the high-rollers and earn more tips. It’s a jungle out there.”