She ran the tip of her index finger along the corner of her mouth, wiped excess gloss on her napkin and shut the compact. “I have something for you.”
“Give it to me at home.” Beau slid out his chair, stood and buttoned his suit jacket.
She looked up, and a smile spread across her face. Now, she seemed the complete opposite of nervous. “What’s the rush?”
“Weeks, Lola. It’s been weeks.” The waiter headed back toward them with something in his hand. “I’m dying here.”
“Sit down, Beau. I promise you’ll like your gift.”
He unbuttoned his jacket again, ran a hand through his hair and sat. Unless his gift was Lola spread eagle on the restaurant table, he doubted it was worth another few minutes of him not having sex. “All right. Where is it?”
Lola’s cheeks turned pink. “It’s already here. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
The waiter returned to the table and set the check in front of Beau. Next to it, he placed a flat, white box tied with a red ribbon.
Beau tilted his head. “What’s this?”
“Your gift.”
“I thought it would be—” He stopped. He didn’t know what he’d thought, but he hadn’t expected it to come in a box. He looked up at her. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to get you anything.”
“There’s no better gift you could give me than what will happen tonight. Please, open it.”
Beau pulled one end of the bow, and the ribbon fell away. What could it be? He already had plenty of cologne, and an enviable collection of Montblanc pens. The box was the wrong shape for those things anyway. He listed in his head the things Brigitte or ex-girlfriends had bought him over the years—cufflinks, courtside basketball seats, a sterling silver money clip. He lifted the lid.
It took a moment to register what he was looking at. He picked up a headband topped with a pair of jet-black, furry cat ears. Each one had a smaller pink triangle in the center. “What is this?”
“It’s what I’m going to wear when I dance for you tonight.”
Beau’s eyes jumped to hers. “Dance for me? Tonight?”
She nodded. “We’ve been through a lot. I want to go back to where it all started.”
“The only place we’re going is home.” Beau tossed the ears on the table and scribbled his signature on the check. He leaned across the table toward her but didn’t bother lowering his voice. “You think I’ll last two minutes watching you dance for me? You’ll be lucky if I don’t jump across this table and give this entire restaurant a show they’ll never forget. My patience is gone, Lola.”
“Beau—”
“Tomorrow, I’ll lounge on the couch all day long while you twirl around wearing whatever you want on your head. And I’ll love every minute of it. But right now, I’m going to fuck the living daylights out of you faster than you can say pussycat.”
Lola leveled her eyes on him with a playfulness that hadn’t been there before. She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “Pussycat.”
Beau rose from his chair so quickly, it almost toppled over. “We’re leaving.”
Lola also stood, quietly placing the cat ears back in the box and covering them with the lid. “Our date isn’t over. Like I said this morning, I’ve planned it all out.”
“And I appreciate that.” Beau took Lola’s hand and walked away from the table, pulling her along. “You can tell me all about it on the way home.”
He opened the door to the restaurant, ushered her out. One nod, and the valet took off down the sidewalk, remembering Beau and his car without prompting.
Lola yanked her hand from his. He looked back at her as she clutched the box to her chest, her breasts rising and falling. “I didn’t wait this long just to have you ruin everything because you can’t wait a couple more hours,” she said, her face flushed, her words clipped. “Do you have any idea what tonight means to me?”
“Yes. Of course I do.” Beau sighed and ran his hands over his face. “I’m going to take my time and appreciate you like I did before. I promise. But I’ve thought of nothing else since you told me tonight is the night, and I’m at the end of my rope here.”
She approached him slowly, as if he truly might pounce. He opened his arms to show her he wasn’t angry. He wasn’t—just really goddamn horny.
She walked into his embrace, looking down as she played with a button on his shirt. “You’ve been so patient, but I want to do this one, very special thing for you first. Just one more stop. Can you give me that?”
He rubbed his hands up her back between her shoulder blades. The Lamborghini’s engine rumbled as it rounded the corner. “All right, pussycat. You have me in the palm of your hand, you know that? Where are you taking me for our last stop?”
She blinked her almond-shaped blue eyes up to his, and her nose twitched. She looked remarkably feline in that moment. “I already told you. We’re going back to where it all began. We’re going to Cat Shoppe.”
17
Beau wasn’t easy to catch off guard. The incredulous expression on his face excited Lola—she would’ve been disappointed by anything else. The Lamborghini’s growl, quiet but distinct, was the only sound. It idled at the curb where the restaurant’s valet had parked it.
“We’re going where?” Beau asked finally, his arms loosening around her.
“Cat Shoppe.”
“You’re going to wear those,” he nodded at the box in her hand with the cat ears, “and dance for me?”
Lola grinned. “Surprised?”
“A little. Yes. That night you want to recreate wasn’t exactly our best moment.”
“I don’t know,” Lola said softly, fixated on his shirt button, circling her fingertip over it. “You and I remember it different.”
“We do?” His chest rose with his inhalation. “You never mentioned that.”
She blinked her lashes up to him again. God, those green eyes, when he focused them on her—a tornado could hit, and she wouldn’t even notice. She stopped her fluttering and blinked hard, getting back on track.
She wasn’t a liar at heart. With Beau, she’d been dealing words like cards from a deck, checking them close to her chest before setting them down. But this story? She didn’t need to edit or tweak it. It was all true.
“A handsome stranger comes in to my shit job and demands to have me all to himself. We flirt. I brush against his leg on purpose, even though we could both get in trouble for that kind of thing.” Lola leaned in and nuzzled his Sandalwood-aftershave-scented neck. “While we talk, I think to myself—this is the first time in here I’ve ever wished a man was just a man. Not a customer. I wonder how I can even bring up the idea of leaving with him without it sounding bad.”
He looked down at her. “Is any of that true, or are you just trying to get me to agree to go?”
“Are you agreeing?”
“I had no idea you felt that way.”
He would’ve if he’d asked, but he hadn’t. She dropped her hand from his chest. “I did. I liked you. But I know that night was awful for you, and that’s why I want to replace it with this one. That’s your gift.”
“I don’t want to replace that night. I loved everything about it right up until you turned me down.” Beau put his knuckle under her chin and ghosted his thumb across her bottom lip. “And we wouldn’t be here right now if it hadn’t happened.”
Lola almost moved away from him—it never got easier, hearing him say the things she deserved to hear. But Beau was nothing if not observant when it came to her. One misstep, and he’d suspect something was wrong.
He turned first, opening the Lamborghini’s passenger-side door for her. “Coming?”
She stood in place a moment, collecting herself. His spell was strong tonight—or maybe she was getting nostalgic. She could call everything off, and he’d be none the wiser. Go home, give in to the love she’d been fighting, let him take from her what he wanted. And take, take, take, always without consequence.
She got in the
car. On their way to Cat Shoppe, he took her hand in his as he sometimes did when he drove. She doubted he even realized it. Like the time he’d found her in the Four Seasons lounge and wrapped her jaw in his hand. By his firm grip and unforgiving tone, he’d meant to be threatening, but he’d gently rubbed his thumb against her skin. As Beau’s guard lowered, his body language became easier to read every day.
Lola glanced over at him. And every day he somehow got more handsome. Once or twice, at night, when he’d assumed she was asleep, she’d peeked at him poring over his laptop, sheets of paper all over the comforter. He’d said bringing his work to bed was a new thing for him, but either he did it there next to her or alone in his study. It was a sweet threesome—her, him and his mistress, the Bolt Ventures quarterly report.
Then, in the morning, they’d wake up together, even if she wasn’t getting out of bed. Without fail, he’d lean over and whisper hotly in her ear, “Shower with me.” Lola knew better than that, though. She’d been strong so far, but she wasn’t made of steel.
“What’s wrong?” Beau asked.
Lola blinked several times, clearing the haze of her thoughts. “What?”
He looked at her from the driver’s side. “You’ve been staring at me.”
“Oh.” She sat back in her seat. “I was just thinking about how this is our last night like this.”
“Like what?”
Out the windshield, Hollywood’s bright lights blurred, stars pinholed the dark sky. She’d given so much thought to the details of their date that she hadn’t had time to consider the next morning. What would he do?
“Never mind,” she said. “In case I forget, I did laundry today, but I didn’t get a chance to fold it. It’s in the dryer.” She picked at her fingernail. “And I moved the glasses and bowls back into their own cabinet.”
“But you like them with their matching dishes.”
“No, you were right. It makes more sense to sort them by type. It’s your kitchen, after all.”
Beau laughed harmoniously, squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips. “Relax.” He pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. “Don’t be nervous. You already know how this goes.”
She tilted her head in his direction. “Do I?”
“I’ll do the work. I already know every single thing I’m going to do to you tonight. You just get to enjoy the ride.”
He looked back at the road, but she studied his profile. Once in a while, it took all her strength to remember how she’d gotten here. It’d been a dewy Friday morning before most of the city had been awake. He’d crushed her without mercy. He’d ripped away something she’d finally let herself have—hopes and dreams for an extraordinary future with him. He was beautiful, and she loved him, but the only thing that would ease the constant throb of her broken heart was his suffering.
Lola was closing in on him. At the dinner table, she’d sensed he’d been about to tell her he loved her. It was the validation she’d been hoping for, but she’d interrupted him, suddenly terrified that if he said it, she wouldn’t be able to go through with tonight.
She didn’t need to hear it anyway. She already knew he loved her—she just wanted him to know it too. If he didn’t, he would soon.
“Enjoy the ride?” she whispered to herself. “I think I will.”
* * *
Typical for a Friday night, Sunset Boulevard was clogged with traffic. It was a small detail that hadn’t crossed Lola’s mind, but as they crept down the street toward Cat Shoppe, then passed it, her spine lengthened.
“What’re you doing?” she asked Beau.
He flipped on his blinker, waiting for the cars in front of them to move. “Parking around back. There weren’t any spots on the street, and I don’t have the patience to wait for one.”
Her throat went dry. The first time he’d brought her here, he’d slid into a front spot. That was how she’d envisioned this going, and it could pose a problem later. She craned her neck, praying for an open spot. “You don’t want to leave your car in back.”
“Why not?”
She adjusted her buttoned-up collar, already dampening with sweat. The air was cool, but it suddenly seemed fucking stupid to have worn a coat she couldn’t take off until they were alone. “Shady characters. There’s, like, no lights in the parking lot. A car like this won’t last five minutes.”
He laughed as traffic opened up, allowing him to turn onto a side street that led to the back. “There’re lots of people out tonight. It’ll be fine.”
She rubbed her hairline. If she pushed it, he’d ask her why it mattered to her. She’d just have to work around it.
Beau pulled into a spot and shut off the car. They sat there for an unusually still moment, a dreamlike state, Lola still not sure she could pull this off. Maybe if she didn’t move, she wouldn’t have to. She shook her head quickly to shoo the ridiculous thought. This was what she’d wanted for weeks, and she wasn’t turning back now.
Beau looked at her in the dark. “Thank you.”
“For what?” she asked, keeping her eyes forward.
He reached over and turned her head to him. He leaned in, pulling her closer by her chin, and kissed her once on the lips. “Sometimes I forget how it feels to receive a gift without a price tag. I know you put a lot of thought into this.”
“I did.” Lola forced herself not to look away. Was he just figuring out that what made something special was the thought behind it, not the dollar amount? Sporadic comments like those made her think Beau was changing in little ways, that maybe he wouldn’t always put money and work first. She hoped he’d keep going down that path. “There’s something else.”
“More?”
Lola removed the lid from the box in her lap and held up the cat ears. “As soon as I put these on my head, I’m no longer your girlfriend. I’m a stranger. A—sex worker.”
The corner of his mouth crooked into a smile. He dropped his hand to one of her thighs, squeezing it right under the hem of her coat. “Is it bad if that excites me?”
Lola removed his hand by his wrist and placed it back on his side of the car. “That means absolutely no touching tonight. You’re getting an authentic experience. You’re my customer, and you’ve hired me to dance for you, just like you did that first night. Which means keeping your hands to yourself.”
Beau sighed up at the roof. “I’ve come this far—what’s a little longer?” He looked back over at her. “Anything else, my queen?”
No—there was nothing else. Except that she couldn’t seem to move from that spot and get out of the car. He was being so good tonight. Attentive. A real boyfriend—better than Johnny, even better than Beau at his best. “Yes,” she said softly. “Kiss me.”
Beau put his hand to her cheek without hesitation. He inclined over the console and brushed the tip of his nose against hers. He pecked her once, but she put her arms around his neck before he could pull away. They opened their mouths to each other at the same time, their warm tongues meeting in the middle. It wasn’t in her plan. It wasn’t even her parting gift to him. This one was just for her.
He inhaled and separated from her but kept his forehead pressed against hers. “You sure you don’t want to just go home?”
She hesitated to seem genuine, but she was ready. She was picturing ahead to being inside, dancing close to him, turning him raw and defenseless. She lifted the cat ears on her index finger and dangled them in front of him. “Want to do the honors?”
He took the headband and placed it over her hair. “Perfect.”
Beau got out and rounded the car to get her door. He held out a hand to help her, but she shook her head at him.
“Right,” he said, dropping it back to his side. “No touching.”
She unfolded out of the Lamborghini, and they walked around to the front, shoulder to shoulder.
The bouncer took one look at Lola and opened the velvet rope for them. “Evening, Miss Winters.”
“You really went all out, didn’t you?” Beau
asked behind her.
She ignored him and passed through the entryway into the club. The music hit her like a fist to the gut, uglier than usual, all hard bass without any detectable rhythm. Or maybe her brain was jumbling things that didn’t matter, unable to afford the extra attention. Kincaid was at the bar, watching over things like he sometimes did. Neon streaks cut through the dark like they were trying to dismember him. They exchanged a nod.
“Follow me,” she said to Beau over her shoulder. She was in charge for once. That was how she knew she had Beau. He was letting her get away with more than he would anyone else, especially tonight.
She walked him down a long hallway until they reached the last door. There, Lola took a moment to herself. With a deep breath, she adjusted her headband and smoothed her hand over her trench coat. What had Kincaid called her earlier that day?
“The cat that swallowed the canary.”
She liked that. She’d have to remember it.
Lola opened the door and led Beau into their final moments together.
18
Cat Shoppe’s VIP room was more than familiar to Lola and Beau. After all, this would be their third time renting it.
“VIP?” Beau asked from behind her as they entered.
“It was either here or out there,” Lola teased, nodding toward the main stage.
Beau stepped so close to her, she felt his heat on her back. “You don’t think I’d let you dance out there, where anyone could see. Do you?”
Lola walked deeper into the room to get away from him. Just being back there, remembering how she’d gotten to her knees and sucked him off, was enough to make her heart beat a little faster. She gestured toward the red-velvet couch, which curved around the circular room. “Sit.”
He obeyed, easing into the seat, looking amused as he crossed an ankle over his knee. “If I’m the customer, aren’t I in charge?”
“If it makes you feel better to think so.” Lola took her time unknotting the belt of her trench coat. “Sometimes I’m not sure which one of us is in charge—but I guess that’s just the dynamic of our relationship, isn’t it?”
Explicitly Yours Series Page 42