Between Us

by Christine Bell

  “He’s not my type,” I said, picking up a white rag and wiping down the already-clean countertop with it.

  Dee let out a low whistle and clapped her hands together. “Excellent. Because he is definitely my type so if you’re sure you don’t want him…”

  Stomach acid bubbled up to burn my throat but I swallowed it back.

  We hadn’t slept together yet, and already he was making me question myself and rethink decisions that were already made. This was for the best, even if it didn’t feel like it right now. I forced myself to think about autumn in New York. The buzz of a new city. The bustle and life of it all.

  “I don’t want him.”

  “Sooo…can you hook me up?”

  I wanted to hook her up, all right. To an anchor and toss her off the side of a boat. But that wasn’t her fault. None of this was.

  “Sure,” I bit out with a nod. “No problem.”

  No problem at all…

  * * *

  Reid

  The last of the sunlight faded as I peered out my bedroom window, feeling about as settled as a caged bear.

  This was none of my business. Lo had a job to do, and she was going to do it. Hell, she’d managed at the clubs for the past six months and nothing bad had happened. It was one predatory asshole. That didn’t mean it was going to happen again.

  And still, as I paced the floor, I couldn’t deny the feeling writhing inside me. One that made me want to break shit at the thought of someone touching her like that again.

  I stopped pacing and ground the heels of my hands against my eyes, willing the memory of her with her ripped, bloody shirt to fade.

  It was going to be fine. She was on high alert now. She’d already told me when we’d talked about it after the fact that she was going to be twice as careful, and stick to a buddy system if she left the club.

  How sick that she even had to do that? None of this was her fault, but she was the one who had to adapt. Sad fucking world. One that made me want to walk in the place, and carry her out of there.

  But that’s not your job.

  Buddy.

  Which brought me back to the second reason for my foul mood. I yanked out my cell phone and glared down at the message blinking there, reading it over for the fiftieth time.

  Dee asked for your number. Is it okay if I give it to her?

  I ground my teeth together and finally decided to answer. Abrupt and to the point, in keeping with my mood.

  Yup.

  Because, fuck it. If this was what she thought she wanted, let her get a look at it, up close and see how well the idea really sat with her.

  In the meantime, I sure as hell wasn’t about to hang here all night. Whether she wanted to see it yet or not, no matter how annoyed I was at her, Lo meant something to me, and there was no way I was going to let her face her first shift back in the club alone.

  I prowled to the door and pulled it open, making a beeline for my keys.

  “I’m going out,” I called to the living room at large. My brothers were piled up with their girls, knee deep in a horror flick and muttered noncommittal grunts.

  By the time I got there, there was a line to get into the place, and I waited not so patiently, glancing at my watch every two minutes. Half an hour later, the steely-eyed bouncer waved me through the door, and I resisted the urge to ask him how come they didn’t keep a better eye on the dancers.

  It wasn’t his fault any more than it had been Lo’s. I pressed my way through the crowd, jostling people as I got closer to the stage.

  And there she was. Dead center.

  She wore a butter yellow bustier that framed her breasts beautifully, and a pair of frilly white bottoms with fringe that shook when she shimmied.

  There was no denying it, she was good at her job. The same magic about her that had sucked me in that first night threatened to sweep me away now. Except something had changed.

  There was a subtle wariness in her eyes. A tentativeness to her steps. The playfulness seemed just a little forced.

  She didn’t want to be there.

  Maybe that had always been the case, but it was truer more now than ever, and all I wanted to do was shove my way to the stage and let her see me. Give her an out.

  Instead, I hung back. She wanted a friend, and approaching her in the middle of a number was definitely not within my rights.

  A guy next to me planted his pinkies into the corners of his mouth and whistled, sending my already jacked adrenaline even higher.

  Lucky for me—and him—the number had been coming to a close, and she rushed off stage before I lost my shit entirely.

  I didn’t go right away. I gave myself a minute to think it through, but for whatever reason, rational thought had taken a short vacation, and all I had left was instinct. And everything in me was telling me to go to her and straighten her ass out. Challenge her to be honest with herself and admit a few things.

  She didn’t want to dance here anymore. And she didn’t want me as a friend.

  And she didn’t even want to get me started on this bullshit with this Dee girl.

  Pressing her was a risk. She could tell me to get out and slam the door in my face. Or, she could wake up and smell the coffee.

  Whichever way it went, I had to do something because this…the not knowing?

  It was killing me.

  Chapter Eight

  Lola

  I stared into the mirror and sucked in a breath.

  This was harder than I thought it was going to be, but I was proud of myself. I’d made it through everything but the finale, and had kept it together. If this was a game, I was winning.

  But it wasn’t a game. And while I didn’t feel threatened by the attention on stage, it left a greasy feeling in my stomach. One that made me want to gargle with mouthwash, and go for a long swim in a clean pool.

  The thought of which only brought memories of my night with Reid rushing to the surface again.

  I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands with a groan.

  It was a done deal now. I’d told Dee he was cool with her calling him, and she planned to ask him out for tomorrow night.

  Success had never tasted so bitter.

  I straightened and lifted my chin, locking gazes with my reflection. I’d gotten exactly what I’d wished for. There was no point in crying about it now. Too bad that was exactly what I felt like doing.

  A low knock on the door sounded and I pushed myself to my feet.

  Probably Sugar wanting the vanity to freshen up for the finale.

  I swung the door open and there stood Reid McDaniels. Dark eyes blazing, black hair a little disheveled, and a wry smile that seemed so unlike him twisting his lips. My heart gave a flutter, and I wet my suddenly dry lips.

  “Hey.”

  I tugged the silk robe I’d slipped over my shoulders tighter around me and took a step back to make room for him.

  “Did you want to come in or?”

  He tipped his head in a curt nod and brushed past me, his muscled chest barely touching mine. I shivered and closed the door behind him with a click.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked softly.

  His concern only made me want even more to melt into his arms and soak him in. So I did what anybody would do in that situation.

  Threw up a wall.

  “I’m fine, thanks. Have you heard from Dee yet?” I asked brightly, gritting my teeth to get the words out but managing nonetheless.

  His lean jaw flexed and he shook his head slowly. “Nope.”

  I could feel my throat tightening, and I started to babble in a shrill voice, “Well, keep your phone handy because she’s totally going to call you and see if you want to go out to eat tomorrow night. She’s really nice. And smart. And she’s got a good sense of humor. She was top of her class in—”

  “Stop.” He took a step toward me and held up a hand.

  “Stop what?” I asked stupidly, trying not to get lost in his eyes. Scrambling for some sort of s
table ground.

  “Just stop it, Lo. I don’t care about her. I care about you.”

  He took another step toward me and I edged around him, away from the wall, toward the middle of the room. If he got too close…close enough that I could smell him, or feel the energy pouring off him, I was doomed.

  “Look, I—I have to get ready for the finale in a few minutes. You should probably go and we can talk about it later, okay?”

  When I don’t have to be in the same room, close enough to touch you.

  He shook his head, and took another step toward me.

  "Not until you talk to me, Lo. Why didn't you return my calls?” His perceptive dark eyes pierced into my soul and I looked away, focusing instead on a spot behind his head.

  It was one thing to ignore his calls, but for some reason, lying about it while looking him in the eye seemed to be my breaking point.

  "I just didn't feel like it."

  I wheeled around clumsily, like a broken marionette and sat on the tiny stool in front of my vanity. Anything to get him to stop looking at me. Seeing through me, to the heart of me.

  I reached for my makeup brush and made a show of stroking it over my nose as if his presence was the least of my concerns, but all the acting classes in the world couldn't disguise the pounding of the pulse in my neck.

  "Bullshit," he murmured, his voice a low rasp as he stepped closer, gaze locked on my face in the mirror.

  "You did feel like it. In fact," he reached out his index finger and skimmed it across my shoulder and I shivered involuntarily, "you've been thinking of me every night for the last three days. You can't eat. You can't sleep. And when you do, you wake up in the middle of the night, bathed in sweat, wanting. Aching. Wondering what it would feel like to have me inside you."

  "How do y-" I broke off, swallowing hard.

  "How do I know?" His short laugh was harsh and held no humor. "Because that's what my week's been like up until now, and I wasn't alone in that pool, Lo. You were with me, every fucking step of the way. Now, you and I both know one thing. For a guy like me, no means no. I'm going to ask you if you want me and if you say no," he bent low and leaned close enough that his minty breath brushed my ear, "then it's no."

  He tipped his head to press a sucking kiss to the nape of my neck and I shuddered, but I didn't pull away. Then he met my gaze in the mirror as he rested his hands on my shoulders, inching slowly, inexorably closer to the swell of my breasts beneath my robe.

  "Do you want me, Lo? Yes or no?"

  If I could tear my gaze away from the sight of those strong hands on me, of the almost pained expression on his face as he touched me, I could force the lie from between my lips. I knew I could.

  "Reid…” I whispered.

  "That's not one of the options," he ground out, the bass in his voice more pronounced as his fingertips trailed over the top of my lacy bustier.

  "Yes or no.”

  His eyes glittered like two chunks of onyx, burning with banked need and I tried again to say it.

  "I-" And again, the words stuck in my throat.

  "Yes or no," he demanded, his voice a whip-crack in the room that resonated with power and need, forcing me to clench my hands to keep them from closing over his and cupping them to my aching nipples.

  He didn't need the encouragement from me, though. He'd finally gotten there all on his own, and the heat of his calloused fingertips sliding under the fabric, dragging over my skin to cup my bare breasts, elicited a long groan from me.

  "Oh, god," I gasped, leaning into his touch, still captivated by the sight of him behind me, jaw clenched with desire.

  "I can't stop thinking about you. Every time I walk past that pool, my balls get tight and I feel like a god damn animal. Then I close my eyes, and you're still there. Like your image is tattooed on the inside of my eyelids or something. Why can't I get you out of my head, Lo?"

  He pinched both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, and I gasped as a blast of need shot through me.

  "I don't-"

  "Forget it. Don't answer that. You only have to answer the one question."

  Yes or no.

  I was supposed to say no. It would only hurt us both more in the long run if I said yes.

  But, god, I wanted to say yes.

  His fingers were plucking at my sensitive nipples in rhythmic tugs now that was making it hard to even think, never mind talk.

  The fight, if there'd ever truly been any, drained out of me and I let my head loll back against his chest. I could hear the pounding of his heart and it warmed me to my core.

  The room was silent now but for the sound of our labored breathing and the distant music from the club and I found myself thinking that, if I never heard another sound again, I could die happy here.

  "Yes or no."

  He unhooked the front closure of my top and my bare breasts sprang free, full and aching. He took a second to take in the view and then came around to my side and tugged me to my feet.

  A fleeting sense of victory flowed through me. He was taking control, surely that meant he wouldn't stop now.

  Please don't stop now.

  I moved to turn in his arms. To make sure he was too distracted to do anything but continue, but he held me firm. Then he pressed a hand to the center of my back until I was bent at the waist, my face just inches from the mirror, and my ass out.

  It was such a vulnerable position to be in, but I felt no fear. Only need. Please don't ask again, just-

  "Yes or no, Lo,” he demanded. He fumbled behind me, and the sound of his zipper reverberated through the room. A second later, my vision blurred as he tugged my bottoms to the side and stroked the thick head of his cock against my ass and then lower, sliding it against the slickness of my folds.

  "Please," I murmured, bouncing on my toes now, straining to get closer.

  I thought I had him then, because he pressed in, just a little, just enough that I could almost taste the rest of him, thick and hot, stretching me, owning me.

  "Reid-"

  His free hand came around to cup one of my breasts and he plucked at it, working the nipple until I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

  "Yes or no." His voice was all grit now. Surely there was no way he could stop, even if he wanted to.

  "Shut up. Shut up," I panted, rocking forward and back, ready to scream or explode from want, or both.

  "Say the word, Lo. Give me that much. One word." It was right there. Every bit of it, just waiting for me to take and my brain short-circuited.

  "Yes, god dammit. Yes, please, yes!”

  There was a tear of foil as he shifted behind me. Then, he pulled back and plunged forward, all eight inches of him, thick and hot inside me all at once.

  "Jesus!" I couldn't hold back the scream as I came hard, clenching and pulsing around him, tremors wracking my body.

  "Ah, fuck, Lo. So tight," he grunted behind me. His face was contorted in pleasure, and that only sent me flying higher. I held the vanity tight and snapped my hips back into him so he sank deeper and could feel me over him.

  "I don't want to come yet," he growled, but his body told a different story.

  His hips moved slowly at first, the drag of his huge cock inside me sending me spinning out again, on the edge. But it was the grip of his fingers on my hips, guiding me over him, faster, deeper with each thrust, that really did it.

  The blood rushed to my ears. My vision went hazy and then, I was flying, head first off the cliff into oblivion.

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he muttered, his hips slamming into mine now, the slap of skin on skin creating a sensual song to this carnal dance. We locked gazes and he froze behind me as his cock jerked hard inside me.

  "Fuck," he snarled, and his body spasmed behind mine, his eyes snapping closed as he came hard, his muscles standing out in stark relief.

  He was still twitching inside me when there was a knock on the dressing room door.

  “We’re on in five,” Sugar called through
the door.

  I glanced at the clock on the wall and gasped.

  “Holy crap, Reid. I have to go."

  His dazed eyes connected with mine in the mirror again and he nodded, and then pulled away. I hurriedly re-fastened my top as he cleaned up, and not a minute later, we faced off in the center of the room.

  Already, even with my legs still shaking from our mind-blowing encounter, the panic had started to set back in. He made me so weak. It had taken him four minutes to break down the resolve it had taken three days to strengthen. Even now, just being near him made me want to give him whatever he asked for.

  A low buzzing sound broke the almost palpable tension and he tugged his phone from his jeans pocket.

  He looked down at the backlit screen, and shook his head slowly.

  “How’s that for timing. It’s your friend Dee.”

  I pursed my lips and nodded.

  “You can take her call if you want. I’ve got to get on stage anyway and—”

  “Tell me you’re not serious right now, Lo,” he snapped, the languid satisfaction in his eyes displaced by disbelief. “You still expect me to go through with this farce?”

  Tears rushed to my eyes at the thought, but nothing had really changed, unless I was counting that the past ten minutes had only made things infinitely worse. It was better this way.

  “Yes,” I whispered. This was it for me. The last life raft, rolling by on a swollen sea, and I grabbed it with both hands.

  If Reid was with Dee, he would be off limits. Exactly where I needed him if I had any hope of staying in control of my life and my heart.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game here,” he murmured, shaking his head in disgust. “Have you ever heard the phrase, be careful what you wish for?”

  I had, but I stayed mute, my throat too achy to talk anymore.

  As he bit out a muffled curse, his long strides cutting a path to the door, I could almost hear the bell tolling.

  He was so right. He’d tried but I’d pushed him and pushed him.

  Whatever happened next was on me.

  And something told me it was going to be sheer hell.