by M Dauphin
Emily blasts the radio and starts dancing around the bar, cleaning and wiping tables from the night before, and before we know it, the place is pumping. It’s noon on a Saturday, but it might as well be midnight. The girls in this party are no joke, and when they whip out the inflatable penis, I can’t help but laugh.
I’ve never wanted marriage or the typical ‘American dream’ but the partying beforehand I can get down with.
By the time my shift is over it’s already dark outside and I’ve fielded twenty texts from Leigh about Knox’s move. Leigh helped him today since I had to work. Apparently he only had a small amount of things to bring since he’s not staying long. This is just a stepping-stone in his business venture. Something about clubs or something. I’m not too sure what he’s doing honestly, the texts were very vague. All I know is I’m going home to an apartment with a super sexy stranger and I’m tired as hell.
The walk home I slide my keys between my fingers, just in case some asshole decides that tonight’s a good night to fuck with me. Five blocks in this part of the city, even though it is a college area, still isn’t safe. By the time I make it to my apartment I’m tired but on full alert. It’s only ten but there are already too many sketchy people out there.
Momentarily forgetting about the new dweller in my apartment, I unlock the door and slip in, quickly locking all the locks on the door. I typically don’t feel like such a pansy walking home, but I also typically have someone with me. With Leigh gone and no one else available tonight, the walk alone really put me on edge.
“Someone chasing you?” His voice startles me and makes me turn and slam against the door, looking frantically to find out where he came from.
I swear he wasn’t there when I slipped in the door.
“Sorry for startling you.” He chuckles. “You ok?” He sets down the dish in his hands and walks over to me. “You’re white as a ghost,” he whispers, his hand coming to gently caress my cheek.
“Um, yeah.” What the hell is he doing touching me, and why the fuck am I still letting him? “You scared me,” I whisper in a trance as I stare into his beautifully dark brown eyes.
He grins and drops his hand.
“No need to be scared, Harper. I’m not a bad guy.”
I’m not a bad guy.
Honestly, I’m not. I won’t kill her, I won’t ruin her life, I’m not here to harm her. I’m completing a task. A very different task that I typically wouldn’t even dream of if the offer wasn’t perfect, but this offer, I can’t refuse. What I’m aiming for here is pleasurable for all of us. I just need to continue to talk myself into it and we’ll be golden.
She can’t know why I’m really here. No one can. I have to play this game just perfectly to get the outcome that I need.
An outcome that will get me exactly what I want.
Right now she’s staring at me, with that same look on her face that she got the first time she laid eyes on me and I can’t help but smile. She’s seen me a few other times in the past six months since I’ve started watching her, but she doesn’t know this. All she knows is I’m a good friend of Leigh’s and I won’t be here long.
And neither of those are lies.
I found her one day at a coffee shop and I knew she was the one. I still remember that day like it was yesterday.
“Boss?” John’s voice breaks my stare on the beautiful woman across the room from us; the blonde with the exquisite curls. She’s half sitting on one of the bar stools, leaving one of her feet solid on the ground but the other dangling, swinging back and forth. Her bare legs teasing me to walk over and see if they are as soft as they look.
It’s just starting to get warmer around here, even though the winter months in this region of the country don’t get too cold anymore. I can’t take my eyes off her. Her smile is hiding something, but it’s more than that. I don’t really even care about that. What I really care about are those legs.
Jesus those legs.
They’d look perfect wrapped around me. And—
“Knox,” John’s voice booms again, and finally the use of my first name makes me spin to glare at him.
“Did you have to yell?” I grumble, tearing my eyes from her.
“Yeah, well I’ve tried getting your attention every other way and you’re locked on Harper over there like she’s your last meal.”
I furrow my brows at him and lean in.
“Harper? You know her?”
He grins and leans back in his seat.
“We really need to get to work on this project. Construction is starting next week and there are still some grey areas.” He points to the blue print on the table and stares at me. I turn and look at her again, leaning against the back of my seat.
“How do you know her?” The more I look at her the more I get the feeling that she’s the one.
She’s the one I’ve been looking for all this time.
She’s perfect.
So that’s when it all started. I started getting closer and closer to John. I met Leigh and buddied up with him, and when the time came for me to need a place to stay for the grand opening of the club, I made sure that Leigh would be vacating the apartment right at the same time that I’d need an apartment.
It worked out all too easily, really.
The move today couldn’t have gone smoother. Leigh helped, as expected. John was there; he and Leigh are becoming inseparable. Not that I mind. It was nice to have an extra pair of hands to help carry the few items I brought with me on this little endeavor. John knows better than to tell Leigh what the business really is. He’s not into that type of stuff. John is my right hand man, and the best there is. He should be for the amount of money I pay him. I met him when I opened the business and brought him on with a hair of trust. In the years we’ve spent together he’s proven himself ten times over that he’s the most trustworthy man I could have on the job.
Of course, even this job I’m currently staring at is a little too much to share with John. I can’t say he’d take a liking to it if he had to keep something this big from Leigh, or Harper for that matter. Damn her. The minute she spoke to me yesterday was like a punch to the gut in the best way possible. Now she’s staring at me after I just invaded her space with a very personal touch, and she’s not certain what to think.
Good.
“Come on, I was just making dinner.” I walk towards the kitchen, letting her follow me.
When she doesn’t, it just gives me the reassurance that she’s the perfect girl for what I need. Stubborn, holds her own…just fucking perfect.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she says in a much more tired tone than I received from her yesterday.
I smile to myself as she locks the bathroom door.
She doesn’t trust me. That’s fine. I appreciate a girl that’s not throwing herself at a man like me. She’s cautious. That’s perfect. I’ve never done something like this before. Some people would call it crazy and try to lock me away. Hell, the first time this task was given to me I turned it down due to those reasons.
Then the club was put on the line and everything changed. I can do this job. I have to.
My phone rings as soon as I hear the shower turn on. Perfect.
“Knox.” I clip, not bothering to see the name on the screen. Not many people have this number.
“How’d today go?” Kayla’s voice over the phone is just as seductive as it is in person.
“Perfect. Did you expect anything else?” Slipping out the front door, just in case these walls aren’t sound proof, I lean against the banister and glance up and down the street as Kayla sighs. This definitely isn’t the safest of streets in the area. I make a mental note to looking into a less… expensive… car. Something that won’t attract the wrong crowd.
“I just don’t understand why you needed to move in, Knox.”
“You don’t have to, Kayla.” I roll my eyes. She’ll never understand this part, but she sure as hell will be enjoying the benefits from it.
“I’m your—”
“What?” I bark, standing up straight, cutting her off from finishing her sentence. This shit isn’t going to fly for me.
“Nothing,” she says, quieting her tone.
“That’s what I thought. Just let me do what I need to in order to get this job done,” I huff.
“I miss you, though.” I hear the pout in her voice and roll my eyes. No she doesn’t. She hasn’t ‘missed’ me for a while now. She’s just needy.
“I’ll call tomorrow.” I hang up before she can get any more words out. She’s the reason I’m here. She’s the reason I’m putting myself through this. I don’t want to move in with a stranger. I don’t want to uproot myself from what I know and enjoy. I want to be in my own home, but instead I’m making this tiny ass apartment in the middle of the ‘hood of St. Louis home for the next few months.
It’ll be worth it, Knox. The end result is worth it.
Sliding the phone into my pocket after silencing the ringer, I walk back into the apartment.
The bathroom door is open but Harper’s bedroom door is closed, and more than likely locked tight.
I smile and chuckle lightly. She’ll have to warm up to me at some point.
Grabbing my laptop, opting to wait to make dinner until she’s out of her room in case she’s hungry, I sit on the couch to start some work. I’m not just here for pleasure. I actually do need to be in town for business. Just for a few months while the club is being finalized. Driving from Springfield to St. Louis every day to oversee renovations isn’t very cost effective. Nor is it time effective. Being in this apartment, merely minutes away from the club, makes things ten times easier.
Things couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. Pieces of the puzzle fell into place so easily that I probably should be leery of something going wrong, but I’m not a worrying man. I’m the type of man to grab life by the balls and make it my bitch, even when I’m not a hundred percent certain it’s going to go as well as I need it to. That’s what I’ve been doing since I graduated college. I moved home and got a job immediately. Quickly, I moved up the ladder and took over the small accounting firm I started out in. Now, years later I’ve sold the firm and started my own very successful chain of clubs that appeal to a very different type of clientele. Of course, I did have help in the whole thing, but I like to think I helped her just as much as she helped me. I own a very lucrative club, covered up by piles and piles of non-disclosure agreements and a name like “Come” that reads more like a hotel chain than what it really is. Our marketing is very discreet. I’d rather Harper not know what goes on behind closed doors until the time is right.
“Hey,” Harper says from behind me. I spin to see her, fresh faced and grinning. Fuck I can’t wait to see what else that mouth is good for other than spouting off smartass comments.
“What’s up?” I close my laptop, not wanting her to see what I’m working on at the moment. I’d rather she didn’t know about my lifestyle. Telling someone you just met and are trying to win over that you own an almost illegal sex club that specializes in voyeurism probably isn’t the best thing to do.
Not yet.
There’s a time and a place for that. Tonight’s neither of those.
“I’m hungry now. Wanna grab some food?” I notice she’s wearing her purse already, and the grin on her face tells me she’s expecting me to go with her.
Perfect.
I’ll have her eating out of my hand… and then some… way sooner than I expected.
“Let me just grab my wallet.” I stand and she smiles, letting go of a breath she probably didn’t want me to notice she was holding.
We walk outside in silence and she heads down the street, but I stop in my tracks.
“Car?” I ask, already knowing her answer. In the few months I’ve been keeping track of her there’s one thing that’s shined above every other little detail of hers; she hates riding in cars with strangers. No cabs or Uber for this girl. She rides with Leigh when she needs to but the majority of her time she travels by foot.
“Nah. It’s close by, we can walk.” She keeps walking, expecting me to follow.
I grin and shrug. I knew that was going to be her answer. She never accepts rides. Not unless they’re from close friends, and since she doesn’t know me, I knew she was going to decline.
No skin off my back.
We walk down the street and take a left. The Saturday night crowds at the local bars are hopping and loud. Passing by a few of them on our way to our destination, I have to dodge Harper out of the way of a patron that had a little too much to drink and was throwing up as she walked out the door.
Fucking kids. At what age does someone realize there’s more to life than partying until you can’t remember what you did the next day?
“Here,” I say, holding out my hand to help her step over a puddle. She narrows her eyes at me, but silently takes my hand as she steps over it. We keep walking and she slowly takes her hand back, making me grin as the redness flushes over her cheeks. I love how easy it is to get to her. She’s going to be perfect.
“Here we are.” Her voice sounds relieved as she opens the door to the small Italian eatery.
She walks to a table in the back and slides into the booth, smiling at the waitress as she brings us water.
“So, you hungry?” She says, not looking at me yet. Come to think of it, she hasn’t really, truly looked at me since we left the apartment. I take my time answering, making her look up from her menu, and when she does I make sure to make eye contact.
“Not really for Italian.” The low growl to my voice is meant to get to her, and it goes perfectly. I grin as I watch the redness flush over her cheeks for the second time tonight. Getting her to put her trust in me is going to be way easier than I expected.
“Well,” she sighs. “I’m starving.” Her eyes move back to the menu and I watch as she peruses her choices. I’m sure she has the entire menu memorized and is just staring at the menu at this point so she doesn’t have to look at me. She seems pretty comfortable here.
After the waitress takes her order she smiles at me and I feel myself getting hard for her. She’s so fucking sexy even when she isn’t trying. The way my body reacts to her this early in the game should set off warning bells but all it does is make me that much more driven to get to the next step of my task.
“So, Knox, tell me a bit about yourself.”
“Well…” I trail off. I’ve always hated talking about myself. It comes across as bragging and I don’t like to brag. Just because I had a privileged upbringing doesn’t make me any better than anyone else. “I have my business degree from Stanford.” Not a lie. “I own a company in Springfield, but I’m currently opening one here in the metro area, hence the short stay,” I say, grinning at her, happy at myself for not lying yet. If there’s one thing I am, it’s honest… ish. To a certain extent. I used to be at least. This task is taking a lot out of me morally though. She’s locked onto every word I’m saying. The faster we can get these niceties out of the way, the faster I’ll be able to get her where I want her.
Underneath me.
“Impressive,” she says with her eyebrows raised. “I feel very insignificant right now.” She chuckles lightly. Nervously.
“Why?” I know my face looks tense right now, but if she’s insinuating what I think she is, we’re going to have problems.
“I’m a waitress and my roommate owns companies, and is opening more. How old are you anyway?”
Bingo.
“Does that matter?”
“I guess not.” The sarcastic tone in her voice angers me. She needs to lose that attitude, and quickly, or else she’s going to meet a part of me she doesn’t want to meet.
“No, really…why would it matter?” I push.
“It doesn’t,” she says, shrugging her shoulders and smiling at me. “Not at all.”
“If you’re asking because you’re curious that’s one thing. If you’re asking because you’re abou
t to put your life against my accomplishments I’m not going to tell you.” I fucking hate pity parties. I don’t know what she’s done in her life, but I do know she’s not a failure and that’s exactly what she’s making herself out to be.
“I wasn’t comparing us.” She mumbles.
“Great.” I sit up and smile a cocky smile at her. “Then I’m thirty.”
She nods silently for a while, watching me closely. Her eyes a bright shade of blue, her hair on top of her head in one of those messy buns girls her age love so well. She didn’t try hard tonight to impress me, but dammit she is.
“So, other than working at a bar, what else do you do, Harper?”
“Sleep,” she deadpans, making me smile.
“That’s it?”
“No,” she sighs. “I like to paint. Art has always been a huge release for me.”
Interesting.
“Are you an artist, then?”
“It’s a hobby. Of sorts. My dad always said I was good at it, but I never really took it anywhere.” She shrugs and stirs her water with her straw.
“Why not? Why not turn your hobby into something you love?” I don’t know why I’m pushing her like this but the more we talk the more she opens up to me.
“I’m not that good,” she says, grinning at me. “It’s like a three year old got a hold of a paint brush.”
“Some of the most famous artists look like a two year old spit up on the canvas. You’ve got something on them.”
“Oh yeah?” She grins. “What’s that?”
“An entire year.”
She barks out a laugh and I smile the most genuine smile I’ve had in a long time. She’s easy to be around, that’s for certain.
“So why this neighborhood? You go to college at the University?” I know the majority of these answers, but if I come across as uncaring I’m never going to get on her good side.
“Uh…no. I’m taking a little bit off.” She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and looks at the waitress as she brings her the burger and fries she ordered. “Thank you,” she says, smiling at the girl. “God, I’m so hungry.”