by Sybil Bartel
“Of course they do. And I suppose you’re fluent in that too.”
He put the clean pans on the drainboard then turned. His hip hit the counter, his arms crossed and he fixed his gaze on me. If his stare wasn’t so absolute, the bulge of his biceps would be almost comical. “Yes.”
He was so damn distracting, I almost forgot I had a question. “Russian, Danish and English. Is that all?”
“No.” He didn’t elaborate.
“Said the man of many talents.” I gestured dramatically at the plate of food he’d made me.
His eyes didn’t waver from mine but it felt like he not only scanned the length of my body but saw right through my bullshit. “If you are asking a question, I will answer it.”
I rolled my eyes because I could. And then I amped up the attitude because I’d never been so uncomfortable around another human being in my entire life. “Gee, where are my manners? Please, tell me, how many languages do you speak, Mr. Christensen?” Every second in his presence made me more aware of my sheltered life and barely passable high school grades.
“Seven.”
“Bullshit.” The swear popped out before I could stop it and Conner giggled. I couldn’t even name seven different languages but Viking started rattling them off like this was normal as shit.
“Danish, Finnish, Norwegian, English, Russian, Bulgarian and Arabic. But swearing in any language in front of a child is inappropriate.”
Mentally counting, I ignored his jab. “Where did you learn so many languages?” Fuck, that was seven.
“The military.”
“Say something in Bulgarian,” I challenged.
When he spoke, harsh consonants and a clipped staccato filled the kitchen.
I stared at his lips in fascination until he stopped speaking. “Now Arabic.”
Exotic words floated on soft sh sounds, and hard Hs cut through the lilting flow as Viking spoke a language I’d never heard in my life.
“What did you say?” My own voice breathy and soft, I sounded exactly as I felt, more impressed now than I’d ever been with Viking.
“Which time?”
“The first time.”
“Your food is getting cold. You need to eat.”
“And the second time?”
Viking stared at me.
My heart started to pound erratically, a lump lodged in my throat and it felt like I’d crossed a line I didn’t know existed. “Never mind,” I quickly backtracked.
“I said you look beautiful when you wake up in the morning.”
Heat hit my cheeks and the air in the kitchen changed in a nanosecond. Charged and untouchable and so damn thick, I wanted to sink into it, but I’d never received a compliment I could trust less. I dug my nails into my palms to remind myself that this wasn’t my reality and lowered my gaze. Dropping to the chair he’d pulled out, I picked up my fork and shoveled in a bite of cold eggs. “Thanks for breakfast,” I muttered, never taking my eyes off my plate.
“You are welcome. I will let myself out.” He switched to Danish and said something to Conner. At least I assumed it was Danish, but now I’d never know. His hand briefly touched Conner’s shoulder then he was halfway to the door in two strides.
I swallowed past the congealed lump of eggs in my mouth. “Wait.”
Viking turned.
His expression impenetrable, he didn’t look patient or curious or even angry. I’d say he looked fierce but this morning, a half hour before the sun was due to rise, he wasn’t that either. He simply looked exactly like what he was—a warrior in civilian clothes. “Thank you.” I inhaled past the shame. “And thank you for feeding Conner. He likes you.” I regretted the last part as soon as the words left my mouth but I didn’t fully understand why until he replied.
“I am not looking to be a father figure.”
My traitorous heart took his honesty as a crushing blow and for the second time in his presence, my ego took a hit. I straightened my shoulders and grasped at what little pride I had left. “I wasn’t asking.”
“Good.” With a single nod, he decimated my illusion of dignity. “Text me your preference for a television size.”
The door closed quietly behind him.
“Neil,” Conner whispered.
My new cell phone buzzed with a text.
Davie: Short 2 girls. Be at the club by 7. You got a double shift tonight. You’re welcome.
SHAKING MY ARMS OUT, I pulled my left leg up behind me and pushed it to my ass. I stretched the muscles out like I was runner, which was a total joke. I rolled my shoulders and my song came on.
I hated stripping but I needed the money, bad. I’d been trying for three weeks to pick up a couple shifts at my old job but until tonight, there either hadn’t been any or the new owner had it out for me. He didn’t know what happened with Jimmy, no one at work did, but the new owner had been pissed when I told him I could only be a sub because I’d gotten a day job.
Even though I was tired as shit from my early morning Viking visit, I strode out on stage like I owned the damn joint and let the music take me into my routine. I shook my ass and pushed my tits together and counted off the steps. Each one meant I was a second closer to going home to Conner. It was fucked-up that I was thinking of my son while I was strutting my pussy wares, but that was exactly what I was doing when I spun to show off my ass and saw him.
I stumbled. I fucking stumbled.
All six feet six inches of Viking was in my strip club. And he was staring me down.
Goddamn it. How the hell did he know I was here? I tried to wipe the shock off my face but I’d never felt more naked in my entire life. Fighting the urge to cover my tits, I looked away and told myself I didn’t have anything he hadn’t seen a thousand times over. I wasn’t shy. Men paid good money to see my assets but for some reason, having an angry-looking Viking watch my every move made me feel like shit.
Fuck him.
I stuck my ass out and ground my hips but instead of the routine flowing, my rhythm was off. Worse, my legs were quivering, my heart was pounding, and my stomach was fluttering.
Three strides away from the end of my routine, I gave up and walked off stage. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I scanned the end of the bar but he was gone. Air whooshed out of my lungs and I rushed backstage.
An arm’s length from the dressing room, the new owner, Davie, caught up with me. “What the fuck was that? You didn’t even finish the song. You think you’re too good for us now that you got a day job? I did you a favor tonight giving you these shifts.”
“I know.” I pulled the bills I had out of my G-string and quickly counted. Damn it, barely forty bucks.
He threw his hands up. “Then what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Forty bucks wouldn’t even pay for the babysitter. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried like hell not to lose it. I’d been in worse shape than this, far worse. I’d figure it out. But one double shift stripping wasn’t going to fix shit long-term.
“Am I fucking talking to myself? Get your ass back out there and sell some goddamn drinks!”
“Fuck off.” My mouth got the best of me.
Davie’s hands went to his hips and his voice turned menacing. “What did you just say to me?”
I could skip paying the rent on my current place and use what I had for a deposit on the studio apartment I’d looked at yesterday. The neighborhood was ten shades past sketchy but the place had bars on the windows and I hadn’t seen any gangbangers around when I was there. I could make it work. Ignoring Davie, I reached for the dressing room door handle and he grabbed my arm.
I turned to let loose on him but the sight of Viking standing behind Davie made my words stick in my throat.
“Let go of her.” Deep and quiet, his voice rocked through the hallway a thousand times more threatening than if he’d yelled.
“Who the fuck…?” Davie’s eyes traveled up the height of Viking and he stopped talking.
“Do not make me repeat myself.�
�� Viking’s accent thickened and became as scary as his presence.
Davie dropped his hand from my arm and held it out to Viking. “Dave Castellano. You ever thought about being a bouncer?”
“Step back,” Viking warned.
Davie lowered his outstretched hand. “Right, sure, I get it, personal space and all that.” He took a giant, theatric step backwards. “This good?” He spoke as loud as if he’d crossed the room.
Viking spared me a glance. “Get dressed.”
I crossed my arms over my tits. I wanted inside that dressing room so bad I could taste it, but I wasn’t about to let Viking think he could tell me what to do. “No thanks, I’m enjoying the sideshow.”
One of his nostrils twitched.
Davie looked between us. “Hey, is this some kind of lovers’ quarrel? Because that shit stays outside the club.”
Viking slowly turned to Davie and issued a single command like he was the fucking Terminator. “Leave.”
Davie puffed his scrawny chest and because he had no self-preservation, he stuck his foot in his mouth. “If you’re harassing one of my girls, you can get out of here right now before I call security.”
Viking took a step toward Davie. “She is not your girl.”
Davie’s hands went up and he backed up so fast, his ass hit the wall. “Easy there, killer. I wasn’t saying that she was mine mine. I was just saying—”
Viking took another step.
Davie turned and ran. Actually ran down the hall.
“You have two minutes. Put clothes on.”
I turned back to Viking and my breath caught but I still managed to throw out some attitude. “Are you telling me what to do?”
His penetrating gaze was even more potent than this morning. “Yes.”
My nipples hardened and a rush went through my body. Part of me, the survival instinct part, told me to run like hell. The other part, the traitorous female part, wanted to launch myself at him. “Does that usually work for you? Telling women what to do?” If he weren’t so hot, I’d be shitting myself right about now.
“Yes.”
I mentally shook myself out of my stupor. “So that’s why you’re here? Out of all the strip clubs in Miami, you came to this one so you could push me around?”
He didn’t respond and his silent stare made my knees tremble.
“Fine.” I managed to huff. “I was getting dressed anyway.” I walked into the dressing room and went to slam the door behind me but it hit a distinctively solid mass. I turned and put on my best fuck-off face. “Show stops when my ass leaves the stage.”
With one step, he caught my chin. “Why are you working here?”
All of my attitude dissolved into a puddle at my feet with his single touch. His hand warm and calloused, his grip commanding, he wore alpha like an advertisement for bad decisions. Not to mention he smelled amazing, like heat and spice and man. He was everything I didn’t need in my life. “It’s called a job.” My stupid voice wavered.
He studied me like he could see right through my bullshit. “You have a job.”
“Buying me a fancy phone and groceries doesn’t give you the right to intrude on my life. I don’t have to justify shit to you.” Answering phones wasn’t paying my bills and the two times I’d taken Conner to the doctor last month had sunk me deeper, but that was none of his business. I pulled out of his grasp and turned my back on him like I didn’t give two shits what he did. “You can wait in the hall.”
The door shut but his scent didn’t leave the room.
“You’re still here.” I didn’t bother looking. I knew he was standing there like you knew when a hurricane was coming. The air snapped, your skin crawled and the pit of your stomach refused to settle down.
He didn’t answer and I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of verbally squirming. Ignoring him, I put my tips in my purse and pulled out my next outfit. Hands shaking, my back to him, I stepped out of my G-string. I’d been naked so many times I’d lost count, but this? This felt like I was stripping down to my fears and revealing my soul. Insecurities I thought I’d buried floated to the surface as I tried to pull up a white thong without giving him an eyeful.
Pissed that I was letting a man get to me, I yanked up the stupid underwear, tugged the short white skirt over my hips and put on the white lace bra. It wasn’t until I had one arm in the tight nurse’s top that Viking stopped me.
His huge hand cupped my nape and his breath touched my ear. “You are not wearing this.”
I flinched but my voice still came out defiant. “Yes, I am.”
Without touching my skin, his other hand dragged the top off my arm. His voice lowered and his accent got even thicker. “Take your skirt off.”
The hair on the back of my neck rose. “I’m gonna. In about five minutes.” My heartbeat in my throat, I turned up the attitude. “Grab a seat and pull your wallet out. You can watch the whole damn show.”
The air shifted and his scent got stronger. He reached around me and slapped a wad of money on the makeup counter. “Take it off.”
My stomach lurched and bile rose. “I’m not a whore.”
His body stiffened and I braced myself for the worst. My arms went protectively across my chest and I curled in on myself.
Slow and deliberate, as if he knew he’d frightened me, his thumb dragged up the side of my neck and his voice turned gentle. “Did I ask you to fuck?”
My whole world tilted when he said fuck. Desire mixed with fear and my thighs clenched but my shoulders went rigid. My mouth dry, my breath coming in short pants, I threw his arm off me. “Get out.”
“Get dressed.”
I grabbed the money off the counter and spun. My hand and the cash hit his solid chest but he didn’t flinch. “Keep your fucking money. You can’t tell me what to do.”
His fingers wrapped around my wrist and pulled. I stumbled in my five-inch heels and fell into him as his gray-blue eyes turned to ice. “You are taking the money. You are getting dressed and we are leaving.” He released me as quickly as he’d grabbed me.
I threw the wad of cash back on the counter. “I’m not your fucking slut. I don’t have to listen to you.”
His voice dropped to a deadly calm and his accent enunciated his words with tight control. “Outfit off. Clothes on.”
My temper threatening to unleash, my tits covered by scraps, I stupidly taunted him. “Or what?”
“Test me.”
It was a warning I should’ve heeded but smart choices were never my strong suit. “Go home, Neil.” I yanked the door open.
A hand larger than my face hit the old warped wood and slammed it shut. “No.”
I SHOULD’VE BEEN PISSED AT his alpha bullshit. I should’ve given him an earful, but suddenly my day caught up with me and I was just too damn tired to care. Resigned to let this play out, I leaned my forehead against the door and sighed. “What do you really want?”
“You do not have to work here.”
My head still against the door, his hand braced inches from my face, I turned and followed the bulging muscles up his arm, past his huge shoulder to his impenetrable stare. “Seriously? Out of all the strip clubs in Miami, you came to this one? To tell me that?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t know what to make of him. Why did he even give a shit? “How’d you find me?”
“Babysitter.”
I wanted to be pissed at her but Viking would’ve intimidated my sixteen-year-old self into telling him whatever he wanted to know too. “And you went to my place, why?”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t even blink.
Shit. “Is this about the groceries?” Or the phone? I really didn’t want this to be about the phone because I didn’t want to give the stupid thing back. “And don’t even bother mentioning the TV. I don’t want one.” I totally wanted one. A big giant one with a thousand channels, but you’d have to torture me to get me to tell him that.
“This is not about food.”
/> No intonation, no change in his expression, no nothing. I knew he had shit brewing in that head of his but he was the master of exclusion. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”
He stared at me.
Case in point. “Fine.” I pushed off the door. “I give. You win. I work at a shitty place, doing a shitty thing for shitty tips and I’m a crap mom. Did I forget anything?” I scooped the nurse’s top off the floor and shook it out.
“Ariella.” My full named rumbled off his tongue like moving earth and shuddered through my resolve.
My hand about to go through the sleeve, I paused. “It’s Ariel.” I should’ve questioned what else he knew about me besides a name I never used, but I didn’t. I was too busy trying not to lean into his stupid, ridiculously built chest just to smell him.
“Put clothes on.” It wasn’t a quiet demand, it wasn’t coaxing, it wasn’t even a whisper because his voice was too deep to whisper, but it was the single sexiest thing I’d ever heard him say.
“I am.” I pushed my arm through the sleeve and turned my back on him. If he said one more thing to me in that tone, I’d probably drop to my knees and beg him to take me out of here because nothing about Viking was ordinary. He didn’t even speak like a normal person. It was as if his voice commanded the air around him to move out of the way so he could own it.
“Do not fight me on this.”
I sucked in a breath and forced myself to remember why I was here. Viking was just a man—a man who wouldn’t leave my head or my dressing room—but I had a job to do. And if I stood here another minute, he’d make me forget my promise to myself. I’d sworn off men for a reason. “Screw you.” I buttoned up the top.
The stale dressing room air moved with a swirl of spicy musk. His body heat left my back and his voice took on a tone I couldn’t decipher. “As you wish.”
Thumping bass from one of the stages filled the dressing room as the door opened. Regret hit the pit of my stomach and I turned to say something, anything, but my gaze caught the wad of cash on the counter.