by Lisa Sanchez
Tony, clearly nervous and sweaty, adjusted his suit jacket and ran a hand through his oily hair. His gaze shifted from Ty to Danika, then back to Ty again. “Yeah…okay then. We’re cool.” He snatched up the wad of bills and crammed them into his pants pocket, then gestured toward Danika. “You won’t be needing your mask for the rest of the night, anyway. You’re working the chair. C’mon. Let’s go.”
Danika paled and exhaled an uneven breath. “The chair? But…” Large tears welled in her eyes and she shook her head back and forth frantically. “I don’t work the chair, Tony. You promised me I wouldn’t have to.”
The growing panic emanating from the blond beauty chipped away at the barrier Ty was determined to keep between them. Why was she so upset? What was this chair thing she and Tony were referring to? From her less than pleased reaction, whatever it was couldn’t be good.
“I don’t care what I told you,” Tony said while blatantly leering at his employee. “Alexei Karpos has requested a lap dance from you, and you’re going to give it to him.”
“Alexei?”
Ty followed Danika’s gaze as it traveled toward the club’s VIP section. Her eyes settled on a squatty, pot-bellied thug who appeared to be of European descent. Flanked by two meatheads dressed in matching suits, the man licked a set of thin lips before blowing Danika a kiss.
Gasping, Danika quickly turned her back to the oversexed sleazebag and faced Tony, her ivory skin now a sickly green color. “But…but…he beat Charity last week. And Raven said he held a knife to her throat the two nights ago. He…he hurts women, Tony. How can you—”
The neon lights from the dance floor reflected off the bevy of gold rings gracing Tony’s pudgy fingers as he waved his hand through the air. “Enough.” He stepped forward and placed a hand beneath Danika’s chin and raised a brow. “Money talks, sugar. You want to keep your job, you’ll work the chair and show the man a good time. Capice?”
The tears that had threatened to spill forth moments ago now glistened down the length of Danika’s ivory cheeks in slick, uneven tracks. Breaths coming in shallow pants, she white-knuckled her tray with one hand and covered her mouth with the other, fear shining clear as day behind her sky blue eyes.
Fuck this shit.
A low growl rumbled from deep within Ty’s chest, his beast threatening to spring forth and tear the greasy club owner into a pile of shredded flesh.
He wasn’t about to sit back and allow the slimy douche to bully his frightened angel into performing a kinky sex dance for a known abuser. It was obvious the idea of performing a lap dance scared her to death, let alone performing one for a known monster. Not to mention, the very thought of Danika straddling another man made him want to go on a killing spree. It didn’t matter that she was a stranger to him. The pull he felt to shield and protect her was strong, and he was helpless to do anything but give in to its call.
Great Zeus above! It had been ages since he’d been with a woman. Consumed by his work, he’d no time to dally with the fairer sex. But now… The desire, the burning ache to lay siege to this sweet siren’s body with his hands, with his mouth, was almost too much. What he wouldn’t do to taste that sweet skin of hers, to sheath himself deep within her slick warmth and find comfort, solace from his eternal nightmare, to forget—even if only for one night, one hour.
The idea of being able to ease his burden, the lure of finding a safe place to land for a few hours…shit...for an eternity, was beyond enticing. And Danika… Sweet, Blessed Aphrodite! She was the epitome of perfection. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced such a powerful reaction to a female. In fact, he was damn sure he’d never felt such an elemental pull.
He shook his head and groaned. Stay focused, Ty. Keep to your mission!
Blatantly ignoring his voice of reason and sense of duty, Ty widened his stance, crossed his arms over his chest and inclined his chin toward the greedy club owner. “I’ll double whatever this Alexei character has paid you. The girl stays with me.”
Tony’s eyes widened, appearing as though they might pop out of his skull. The corner of his mouth pulled back as he adjusted his suit jacket and puffed out his chest. “You don’t have the kind of cash it takes to buy her time.”
Ty gnashed his teeth together and spoke through gritted teeth. “Try me.”
Tony tugged at the sleeves of his suit jacket and raised a crooked brow, eyes alight with greed. “Two grand—cash.”
A soft gasp came from Danika’s direction, her empty serving tray clattering to the floor.
Ty bent over and quickly retrieved the wayward piece of plastic. He mouthed the words “it’s okay” and “trust me” as he eased the tray into her shaky hands. There was no doubt in his mind he’d regret his actions later, but right now, his only motivation was to protect the gentle beauty trembling in front of him.
Eyes glassy and full of tears, she mashed her quivering lips together in a desperate attempt to hold in a sob. Her efforts were in vain, a ragged gasp blowing past her lips moments later.
Eager to ease the blond beauty’s fear, Ty focused his attention on Tony once more, his stomach turning the moment he laid eyes on the sleazy owner. The man was a pimp, a Grade-A, money-hungry loser, and it was clear he ran his business by means of fear and intimidation.
With his jaw locked and the veins in his neck pulsating with anger, Ty once gain pulled out his roll of cash, quickly shoving several large bills at the waste of flesh standing in front of him.
Pocketing his newly acquired cash, Tony sneered at Ty. “You just bought yourself one hour in the velvet chair, my friend.” He cast a sidelong glance at Danika and licked his lips. “Make sure you treat him right, sugar, or I’ll ride your ass—hard. You feel me?”
Rage propelled Ty forward, fists clenched, muscles shaking as he fought to contain the beast within. A deep rumble tore through his chest as he towered over Tony, who in turn looked as though he might wet himself at any moment. “I’m not your friend, asshole. And that two grand you just pocketed bought Danika a night of freedom from your pathetic ass. The lady gets to wait tables without any hassle from you.” He jabbed a finger against Tony’s chest and raised a brow. “You feelin’ me?”
A coward to the core, Tony recoiled beneath Ty’s heated stare and refused to make eye contact, choosing instead to stare over his shoulder as he let out a shaky laugh. He held up his hands as if to ward Ty off and painted a fake smile across his face. “Yeah, yeah…all right. All right.” Grasping onto his jacket lapels, he rolled his shoulders and exhaled. “The velvet chair is in Salon #1.” He lifted his arm and tapped his wristwatch. “Clock is ticking. Enjoy your hour.”
No doubt eager to be out from under Ty’s angry stare, he slinked away toward the center of the club, the raucous crowd quickly swallowing him whole.
Ty turned his attention back to Danika, who continued to shake as she gingerly swept at her tears with her free hand.
Danika’s unhappiness sent a searing pain knifing through his gut. What was it about her that affected him so? Why couldn’t he just walk away, leave her be?
Ty cleared his throat and swiped a cocktail napkin off the nearby table. “Here.” He handed her the small scrap of paper, unsure of what to say or how to comfort her. A millennium of battling evil and fighting to survive had left him hard, closed off from any emotions other than rage, lust and the desire to survive. Crying women were beyond his area of expertise.
“Thank you for that…I…uh…think.” She eyed him with what appeared to be frank suspicion mixed with a heaping dose of unease. Fidgeting with her tray, she cast several nervous glances toward the darkened hallway to her left. “This job…I really…” She blew out a ragged sigh and shook her head. “I…well, I really need it, and the idea of dancing for anyone, especially Alexei…really scares me.”
She glanced over her shoulder toward the VIP section once more and exhaled what he assumed was a deep sigh of relief. The squatty thug had moved on to greener pastures. A server in a
mermaid costume straddled his lap, and his face sat nuzzled between her barely-covered breasts.
“Oh, thank God,” she said on an exhale.
A strange sensation filled Ty’s chest, urging him to step forward, to envelope her in his arms, hold her tight. Would she melt into his arms like he imagined she would, or would she run for the hills? Probably the latter. He was a stranger, after all, a customer in a nightclub that peddled flesh along with booze and Gods knew what else. She’d no doubt see his advance as an attempt to get in her pants and run the opposite direction. No good, numbnuts. Slow your roll and chill.
Ty stifled his urge to hold her and instead, waved a hand through the air while casting her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “It’s no problem. Your boss is a real prick. I’m happy to see you free of that POS, even if it’s only for an hour.”
In truth, he’d pay good money to make sure she never squirmed beneath Tony’s deprecating glare again. The guy was a sleaze-bag, the worst kind of scum. And after a few thousand years of chasing after the scourge of the underworld, he knew scum when he saw it.
“An hour…” Danika dabbed the remaining tears from her face and blew out a shaky breath. “I, uh…ugh,” she mumbled beneath her breath. Straightening her stance, she raised her chin, forced a smile and gestured toward the darkened hallway on the opposite side of her section. “You saved me from a horrible hour that was sure to include a beating. I owe you. I’ve never danced for anyone before, but…” She lifted her shoulders and cast him an unsure smile “I’m willing to try…with you.”
Great Zeus above! Was she serious? Did she really intend to take him to this so-called velvet room? Gods! Not only was she innocent, Danika was a fighter, a warrior—a survivor. Though she’d obviously never performed for a customer in such a manner, and though the idea made her visibly ill, she obviously intended to press forward and show him a good time anyway.
Vivid images of her straddling him in a large velvet chair bombarded his conscious thoughts, drowning out the noise from the club along with any and all sense of reason. The mental picture was incredible. Body writhing and slick with sweat, he pictured himself sheathed deep within her slick core, her perfectly rounded breasts bouncing in time with each powerful thrust. Her soft, pleasured grunts filled his head, feeding his desire.
Holy…fuck. An uncomfortable pain tore through his lap, his dick threatening to burst out of his pants and have its way with her.
A deep growl tore through his chest before he could stop it. His beast clamored inside him, desperate to claim the angelic beauty.
Ty swore beneath his breath. Dammit all to hell! What was it about this human that caused him to forget himself? She called to him like the ancient sirens of the sea—dangerous, seductive. Sweet, Blessed Aphrodite! He was powerless against her charms. The pull toward her was primal, innate. Could it be possible? Was she his life mate? Could she be the one woman who could tame his beast?
There were only two ways of knowing if she were truly meant for him. One inspired horror and sent his stomach reeling. He’d never let her alone with his Nemean lion—ever. The beast was savage and unforgiving, and decimated everything it came in contact with. The mere thought of the other threatened to blow the top off his cock. If he followed Danika into Salon #1, if he demanded what his two grand had paid for, he’d know once and for all if she was truly meant for him.
Thing was, as much as he desired to claim her, to lose himself in her sweet perfection, he wouldn’t force himself upon her. He might be a cold-blooded killer, but he wasn’t a rapist and for all of his sins, he’d never forced himself on a woman. He wasn’t about to start now.
Ty sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Control. He needed to maintain control. And to do that, he needed to stay away from Danika. The thought of walking away from the sexy siren pained him, but he had no choice. He knew what he needed to do.
With a quick wave of his hand he took his seat and stared out toward the crowded dance floor. “Not interested, thanks. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”
Fuck. It felt like someone had placed a ten-ton boulder on his chest and then asked him to breathe. He ached.
He was an ass. He knew it. The girl needed reassurance, a comforting hand, and he’d offered neither. Maintaining a healthy distance from the beautiful waif seemed the smartest course of action. If she was, indeed, his fated female, he was doing her a favor by distancing himself. Better for him to turn her down, for her to think him an ass than to allow her entrance into the dark, mythical mess that was his life.
Ty sensed her shock, along with the sour pang of rejection that rolled off her small frame. A mixture of sorrow and relief tore through his chest as she quietly made for the bar. His beast howled from deep within, begging him to go after the female, to claim her, to mate her.
No! I will not damn her. I will not allow the darkness within me to taint her.
Battling a bevy of unwanted emotions, he allowed himself one final look when he was certain she was well out of range and was unable to fight back his appreciative smile. Gentle, sweet, and completely out of place in the den of sin that was the nightclub, Danika was a ray of light in a dark, corrupt world.
He prayed to the Gods for her safety.
CHAPTER 5
What the hell just happened? Shame and regret burned beneath Danika’s skin as she went about taking orders from the rest of her section. Flustered by the fact she’d offered herself to a complete stranger, a customer who’d not only refused to give her his name, but turned her down as well, she ended up spilling two beers and almost took one poor customer’s head off when he asked for a Slow Comfortable Screw. Men!
Good grief! Why was she so upset? It wasn’t like she hadn’t been warned about the man’s nature. Kathi had openly referred to the handsome customer as a “smug bastard.” Danika had meant to steer clear of him, should have steered clear of him. But the small amount of determination she’d mustered had flown out the window the second she’d caught her first glimpse of him.
Devastatingly handsome, the muscular Adonis reminded her of the warriors she loved to read about in her favorite romance novels—fierce, impressive, dominating—Alpha. His blond locks were shaggy in front, short in back, and looked as though he was constantly tearing his hands through them. It was sexy, like bed hair, and Danika wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through it.
Tanned, sun-kissed skin complimented a set of striking, sky blue eyes rimmed with soft white circles, like a cat. Simply put, the man looked like a Calvin Klein underwear model. She could totally picture him half naked and plastered to a gigantic billboard somewhere in New York. And his body! Good, Lord! The man was massive, dwarfing the tables and chairs around him.
With his hard set jaw and predatory eyes, Danika half expected him to crush the table and mount a killing spree at any moment. There was something raw, almost animalistic about him that sent a chill down her spine and bells ringing in her ears. This guy, whoever he was, was dangerous and not to be messed with.
Despite all the warning signs, she felt an overwhelming magnetic pull toward the stranger. She was drawn to him on a base, physical level. A dull, aching need radiated between her thighs, vivid images of the handsome stranger devouring her flesh with his mouth shooting rapid fire through her brain. The call of this man’s body to hers was simply magical, and unlike anything she’d ever felt before. It was as if he’d been placed on the earth specifically for her. The entire thing made no sense and made her more than a little uneasy.
Danika chewed at her bottom lip and shook her head, disgusted with herself and her behavior. It didn’t matter that he’d acted as a buffer between her and her boss, that he’d kept her from performing on the velvet chair, or that he’d freed her from the violent and lecherous hands of Alexei Karpos. Nope. When it came down to it, fretting over Mr. No Name was simply a waste of her time. What she needed to do was focus on her job and her ultimate goal: paying off James’ debt.
Criminy. Wasn’t that what she’d been doing with Mr. No Thank You Leave Me Alone? Focusing on her job, making the customer happy? She’d brought him his bottle of tequila; she’d tried to be friendly, make small talk. Hell…after he’d forked over the two grand she’d even offered to work the chair for him. Despite her inexperience, despite her fear, she’d warmed to the handsome stranger and was completely baffled by his hot and cold reaction to her.
She was tempted to blame the entire debacle on her hideous alien outfit, but common sense told her it was more likely her interpersonal skills that were in desperate need of an overhaul. Her experience with James had left her floundering when it came to men.
The bitter pangs of rejection curdled within her stomach, and she fought back tears of shame. How could she have so clearly misread the handsome stranger? She’d been positive he was attracted to her, so it had come as a huge shock when he’d asked her to leave. And what was with the growling? The guy’s rumbling sounded like something straight out of Wild Kingdom.
Get it together, Danika! She knew better than to open up to anyone and cursed herself for softening toward him. The past year with James had shown her just how heartless people could be, and she was worn, tired, and refused to be a doormat to anyone ever again. Slamming her empty tray onto the bar, she glanced over toward the nameless jerk who’d rejected her and frowned. If Mr. No Name wanted to be alone, then that was fine by her.
“Heads up, Danika!”
Mason, the club’s flamboyant bartender hurried toward her, a worried expression crossing his handsome features. Purposely ignoring the scores of thirsty patrons, he sashayed across the floor like he owned the place. Openly gay and obscenely beautiful, he sported a tall, lean body; a head full of thick, wavy brown hair; green eyes and a spectacular sense of style. He’d offered to accompany Danika to the mall on more than one occasion for a wardrobe makeover, but she’d always had to turn him down. Stylish clothing like Mason wore cost big money, and she’d maxed out her credit cards long ago trying to pay off James’ debt.