“And like I said downstairs, she’s not the only one.” He lobbed his cell toward her, the device fumbling in her fingers before coming to rest in her grip. “Check the messages. See just how many women from the Vault are trying to ride my dick.”
“I don’t—”
“Fucking look.” He didn’t care if she thought he was irredeemable. But he sure as shit wouldn’t have her thinking the women down there were all sweet and virtuous.
She raised a haughty brow and cocked a hip as she unlocked his screen and navigated to the texts. She scrolled and scrolled, her eyes skimming messages he knew were as vulgar as they were annoying.
“Your girl may not have been a serial offender. But it was only a matter of time.”
“She’s not like that… Holy shit, I can’t believe Elise sent you a nude selfie.”
He nodded. Elise had a fine rack, but he would still delete the pic and place her firmly on his shit list. “One of many.”
She winced and handed over the phone. “It doesn’t mean you have the right to take your frustration out on Pamela. Her involvement was my fault.”
“Shay admitting guilt?” He pocketed his cell, along with his keys and wallet. “You must really like this woman.”
“I feel sorry for her. She’s too young to be a widow.”
He’d almost forgotten about the dead husband. Didn’t matter, though. The only thing worse than a pushy woman was a pushy woman with baggage. “She’s attractive, and new men continue to join the Vault. She’ll find someone to suit her soon enough.”
There was no doubt. Apart from her beauty, she was passionate and sexual. The top three checkboxes on any hot-blooded male’s list.
“And what about you?” Shay crossed her arms over her chest. “After your demeaning display, I think you’re going to find it hard to get laid in the Vault. Female solidarity can be a bitch.”
“Female solidarity can kiss my ass. It’s my club. If I want to wipe the slate clean of women members and start fresh, I will.” Culling members seemed like a damn good idea.
“You’re not the only one who owns the club. It’s Leo and T.J.’s, too.”
He growled, his teeth clenched tight. He loved this woman. Really, he did. But holy fuck, he hated her at times. “Tell Leo I’m leaving.”
“I don’t think—”
He held up a hand. “When it comes to me, don’t think. Ever again. You hear me? Stay out of my sex life unless you want me meddling with yours.”
Her chin hitched, the expression held for a brief second before she nodded.
“I’m glad we’re finally on the same page.”
Those arms remained locked tight over her chest as he walked from the office.
He strode into the hall and down the stairs to the bar. The club was in full swing with loud music and a packed dance floor. His peripheral vision caught sight of the opening Vault door, and he paused to make sure he didn’t have to hide in the crowd to save himself from another female leech.
The guard manning the entrance stepped aside to welcome someone from the darkness.
Bryan should’ve kept walking. Should’ve gone straight to the parking lot without giving a fuck about anyone from the private club. But then it was too late. Ella strode from the shadows, wearing a silky dress barely covering the scant lingerie beneath.
She gave a half-hearted smile to the guard, then worked her way across the dance floor, heading toward the main entrance to Shot of Sin.
“You can’t let her walk out on her own.” Shay’s raised voice came from over his shoulder, having the effect of a surprise enema.
“I’m on it.”
There was a reason they’d renovated the Vault to have a parking lot exit. Escaping through a mass of drunken revelers at the front of the club wasn’t an option, especially for a woman on her own. She’d have to walk around the building unattended. Unprotected.
“Goddamn it.” These women would be the death of him. Or at least his libido. He turned to face Shay. “Go back downstairs. I’ll make sure she gets to her car.”
“Will you make sure she gets an apology, too?”
He scowled. Apology, my ass. “Good night, Shay.”
She smiled, big and wide and full of spite. “Night, Brute.”
Finding Ella again wasn’t hard. She parted the sea of pussy-starved men with a whiplash effect. He followed, hanging back at least ten feet. He wouldn’t talk to her. She wouldn’t even know he was there. All he would do was shadow her to her car and kiss her annoyance goodbye once she safely drove away.
She reached the club doors, tipped her head so she didn’t make eye contact with the bouncer, and walked into the night.
He did the same, approaching Greg a few seconds after.
“Everything okay, boss?”
“Yeah. Heading home.” They both stared after Ella.
“A friend of yours?”
“No, she’s from downstairs.”
Greg nodded, lowering his attention to her swaying ass.
Nobody inside the club knew what lurked behind the guarded Vault of Sin doors. Not the bouncers, not the Shot of Sin staff, and definitely not the crowd who continued to carve up the dance floor on a weekly basis. There was only Bryan and his business partners, along with very minimal bar staff. To everyone else, it was an exclusive VIP area, with the people coming in and out carrying the intrigue of celebrity status.
“Keep your eyes on the door,” he growled. “I’ll make sure she gets to her car.”
“Sure thing.”
Ella gained distance, and two men waiting in the crowded line for a cab stepped back to follow her along the building. They framed her, leaning close, making their intentions known as Bryan lengthened his stride.
To her credit, she didn’t slink away. She stopped, faced one of the men with a jut of her chin, and announced loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’m not interested.”
He could’ve laughed at the parallels of their earlier situation. Then again, it made him think of the differences, too.
Her position contained vulnerability. His hadn’t.
She needed to use aggression to get them to back off. He’d merely done it to cause a scene.
The men took the rejection, chuckling to themselves as they made their way to the end of the cab line. Bryan slowed, waiting to overhear a derogatory comment, a snide remark, anything to give him the justification to break a nose or crack a jaw.
Nothing came.
The men were harmless as well as tactless.
Ella continued along the building, her heels tapping with her sure stride. Once she turned the corner of the building she’d be out of sight from club security. From anyone. Except those who thought it might be a good idea to follow a gorgeous woman into a private parking lot in the early hours of the morning.
With a quick glance over her shoulder, she took a hard left and disappeared from view.
She hadn’t seen him. Hadn’t paid enough attention to her surroundings to notice he’d followed. Her main focus was on the cab line and the men who had approached her.
Big mistake.
She needed to pay more attention.
He increased his pace, wanting to make sure nobody waited in the darkness. Once he turned the corner, his feet hit the gravel of the parking lot. The crunch beneath his soles was unmistakable.
She heard it, too, if the way she gripped her handbag and riffled through the contents was any indication.
Fuck.
If she turned, he’d have to talk to her. And if she didn’t, he’d be stuck with the guilt of knowing he’d unintentionally scared her. Maybe he should call out. Say a quick, “Hey, you fucking idiot, why didn’t you use the other exit?”
But he didn’t want to speak to her again tonight. Or anyone else, for that matter. The thought of socializing had the appeal of a drug-free circumcision. Not that the feeling was a stretch from any other moment when he had to be chatty.
He ignored the crunch of his footsteps and followed,
closing in on her. His pace hadn’t increased. Hers had slowed. Why the hell had she slowed?
He was about to announce his presence in an effort to ease her fears, when she swung around, raising a pocket knife in his direction.
Her lips parted at the sight of him, the determined squint of her eyes changing to a widened stare of confusion.
“You plan on using that?” He focused on the knife, the blade barely long enough to cause significant damage. Didn’t stop her from squinting at him as if planning the best way to slash and dash. “The Vault has an exit to the parking lot for a reason. You shouldn’t be out here on your own.”
Her cheeks darkened, in embarrassment or anger, he wasn’t sure. But she kept wielding that knife like she had every intention of using it. “You followed me all this way to give me a lecture?”
“I followed you to make sure you got to your car safely.”
She scoffed, closing the knife with a confident flick before throwing it back into her handbag. “Chivalry doesn’t suit you. It doesn’t even make sense, seeing as though you’re the reason I felt too humiliated to walk back through the Vault.”
The pang in his chest wasn’t appreciated.
“Go back inside.” She swiveled on the toes of her shiny black shoes and continued along the building. “I don’t need your help.”
She walked away from him, striding in the opposite direction when every other woman seemed to salivate over the ability to have a conversation with him. Maybe Shay was right. This woman might not be a leech after all.
“That wasn’t the case two weeks ago.” His retort came from left-field. An unscripted retaliation he didn’t see coming.
She kept walking. One step. Two. Then she gifted him with another swirl, rounding on him, spitting contempt in his direction. “You know what?” She snapped her lips closed.
“What? Let me have it.” He shouldn’t have found her fury humorous. “Get it off your chest, princess.”
Her eyes flared. “Oh, buddy, I don’t know where you get off speaking to me like that when I’ve done nothing wrong. Tonight, you treated me like I was trying to tattoo myself on your charcoal-riddled soul, or steal your cherished bachelorhood.”
She stepped forward, straightening her shoulders. Women really needed to get a clue that thrusting their breasts didn’t work in their favor. It only made men feel like they’d scored a triple-point bonus during battle.
“Let me assure you,” she spat, “I’m not interested in either. In fact, if you were the last man on Earth, I’m pretty sure I’d start fucking livestock to get my kicks just so I didn’t have to deal with your bullshit attitude.” Her mouth remained open, gaping a little.
Yeah, sweetheart, your diatribe did include a reference to bestiality.
“Good to know.” His lips kicked into a smile, and the flare of her nostrils announced she didn’t appreciate it.
“This isn’t funny.”
No, it wasn’t. Apart from the enjoyment he received from her annoyance, this wasn’t funny at all. He didn’t like having his enjoyment of the Vault washed out from underneath him by disrespectful women. He didn’t like being railroaded. And he certainly didn’t like the reminder that he had a family back in Tampa, ignoring his existence. “No, you’re right. After the day I’ve had, your lack of interest is a fucking relief.”
“Well,” she grated, walking away, “I’m glad I could ease the tension.”
He didn’t follow this time. The nagging throb in his chest increased. It wasn’t his fault she’d been caught in the line of fire earlier. She’d been collateral damage. A tiny blip on the casualty radar.
All he’d done was announce his disinterest. Loudly. While deliberately drawing the attention of other club patrons.
Fuck.
“I had a shit of a day, okay? I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
She froze, her back still turned. “Was that an apology?”
If it was, it was a shitty one, but coming from him, it was the holy grail of remorse. “It’s whatever you need it to be.”
She released a sardonic laugh and pounded out the distance to the end of the building.
The ache beneath his ribs grew, demanding more. More what? He didn’t know.
“Look, I shouldn’t have directed my rant at you.” He jogged to catch up, chasing the wanted distraction.
“So you don’t regret what you said, just that you included me in it?” She approached the line of cars and slipped between a polished SUV and T.J.’s new BMW.
“Hell, no, I don’t regret it. It was a long time coming.” He followed her into the small space and stopped a foot away, at the start of her door. “You don’t think I have a right to tell women to back off? If it was your private number being distributed around the club and guys started texting at all hours, asking to hook up, while also sending unsolicited dick pics, I’d make sure those fuckers never stepped foot in the club again. Yet, when it happens to me, I’m supposed to be happy about it? Come on. Cut me a break. I enjoy unwanted attention as much as you do.”
She opened her door and he retreated a step, not realizing how close they’d become.
“Tell me, Ella. Don’t I deserve a break in my own club, or do you think I should keep letting it slide?” He wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical. The only thing he was aware of was the unfamiliar need to keep the conversation going. “Should I keep rejecting the same women over and over again every time I enter the Vault, even though they already know the score?”
“How do they know the score?” Her voice softened, the bitter edge of spite seeping away.
“I always make it clear I don’t sleep with the same woman twice. I never leave any doubt.” That hadn’t changed since the first night the Vault doors had opened.
“You never made it clear to me.”
No, he hadn’t. Their position was different. “We haven’t slept together yet.” Yet? His subconscious tacked on the additional word without his approval.
“Well…” She lowered her gaze to his shoes. “I guess addressing the issue wasn’t uncalled for. But you could’ve handled it better. You should’ve been nice.”
“I don’t do nice.”
Her grin produced a dimple, and soft laughter followed.
“You’re laughing at me now?” He should’ve been annoyed. Instead, he found himself grinning back at her. It didn’t make a lick of sense. Then again, he rarely had women making fun of him. They were always making plans to fuck him. “I thought we weren’t allowed to do that.”
“I can’t help it. You sound like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum. I can picture you using the same tone to say, ‘I don’t do vegetables.’”
“I do do vegetables,” he countered. “What I don’t do is put up with people’s shit. I’m just sorry you got caught in the crossfire.”
“Really?” She quirked a disbelieving brow.
“Yeah. Really.”
She gave a soft snort and threw her handbag onto the passenger seat. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Does that mean we’re good now?”
She nibbled her bottom lip. There was no seduction. Only contemplation. And holy shit, it was worth more on a sexual scale than any lip bite he’d previously witnessed. The sight sent his mind into a rapid rewind to the night in the locker room. Her body resting against his. Her moans filling his ears.
“I suppose so.”
His dick started cashing checks his mind wasn’t willing to pay. “I’m glad to hear it.” He backtracked, getting out of there. Fast. “I’ll see you around.”
“Nope.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “I won’t be back.”
“Then, I guess it was nice knowing you.”
She chuckled again and began closing her door. “I wouldn’t go that far, either.”
Chapter Seven
A shitty mood didn’t come close to what Bryan sported when he shoved past the glass doors of the Taste of Sin restaurant the following day. The scheduled lunch shift wasn’
t the issue. The problem came from his phone.
He’d expected the sperm vultures to have left a message or two while his cell lay dormant overnight. The snatch pics that filled his text box hadn’t been a surprise. He’d also expected the abusive message from Leo over what had happened last night.
What he hadn’t predicted was the message from Tera—If you change your mind and want to talk, please call me.
Oh, hell, no. He wasn’t going to let her fuck up another day. As far as he was concerned, his parents were already dead and buried. He assumed the feeling was mutual.
The reminder to change his cell number had him in a shitty mood. But from the sight of his business partners standing beside a table in the empty dining room of Taste of Sin, the worst was yet to come.
T.J. maintained his usual friendly expression—casual smile, laid-back posture. On the flip side, Leo scowled, eyeing him as if eagerly awaiting the start of whatever intervention was on this week’s agenda.
“What are you doing here?” Bryan veered to the left, cutting through the tables toward the storage room behind the bar. “I thought you were both working tonight.”
“We are.” T.J. cleared his throat and shot a glance at Leo. “We have a few things we wanted to discuss with you beforehand.”
“Right…” He continued walking, unsurprised when they both followed into the small enclosed area behind the bar. They hovered inside the doorway as Bryan dumped his wallet and keys in the safe. “Hurry up and get it over with.”
“You went too far last night.” Leo stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind them. “I had no idea of the extent of what happened until after you bailed. Then all hell broke loose, and I had a mass of women nagging me about how I was going to address the situation.”
“Address the situation? You’re joking, right? I followed club rules. I did everything by the book. The women in the Vault were due for a reminder on club etiquette, so I made a public announcement.” No harm. No foul. At least from his viewpoint. “If you’d been getting snatch pics every five minutes and throaty voice messages the next, you would’ve done the same damn thing.”
The Vault Box Set Page 39