Knox

“So the party is still a go tonight?” John asks from across my desk. He’s not even looking at me, either. He’s typing away on his tablet, probably doing more work than I’ve physically done in the past week. That’s why I keep him around.

“Of fucking course it is, John. We open soon anyway.  The building itself is ready to go. All we’re waiting on now is the final paperwork. We’re good for a fucking party,” I huff. The fact that the city just now is deciding to give us shit about this club being so close to a college isn’t my fault. They’re the ones that missed it to begin with. I should be grandfathered in.

And if I’m not, I’ll just find some asshole to pay off to look the other way.

“Great. Tents are here so I’m going to go get on with that,” he mutters, standing up while he looks through his phone. “Oh!” He spins and looks back at me on his way out the door. “Bringing someone tonight? For the guest list…” The look on his face is begging for me to punch it.

I narrow my eyes at him. He knows I’m living with Harper. He knows my situation. He also knows I don’t ever talk about my personal life.

Even if it’s been three weeks of living with her and she’s still yet to let me touch her.

Oh, it’s not because I haven’t tried. I’ve made it a point to show her just how good we could be together without even having to touch her. I’ve watched her clench her thighs together while we watch romance chick flicks that get to the steamy parts. I’ve watched her watching me when she didn’t think I was. I’ve counted the orgasms she’s given herself in these past three weeks, probably thinking about me just a room over.

She thinks she’s being quiet.

She’s not.

“So that’s a no?”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be right now, John?”

“Right,” he grins and spins, leaving me alone to my office.

One more month and these club doors will be open. Not open to the public, necessarily, but open for business.

See, Come isn’t your typical club. It’s not a sex club, but it’s damn near close. There’s no rank or hierarchy here. There are no Dom’s and Subs. There are no ‘red rooms of pain’ that that goddamned film portrayed so terribly a few years ago. What there is, though, is a specifically talented set of staff that know exactly what the patrons need and want. Staff that aren’t paid to fuck patrons, just paid to give them the show they need to fulfill their desires.

What happens after that is beyond my control.

Glancing at the clock I realize I only have a few hours until the party and I still have to head home and get changed. I wanted to invite Harper; I feel like we’re getting that connection I’m going to need to keep her once she finds out the truth. Next week I fuck her, and when I do everything will fall into place.

I can’t bring her yet, though. If she finds out too early what this is all about everything will have been for nothing.

I’ve only lived with her for a few weeks but we’ve already got a routine down. Living with a woman has never felt so free. It’s weird. Maybe I know she’s oblivious to what I’m here for, or maybe it’s because she’s not like any other woman I’ve met…but I feel free with her. I never realized how trapped I’ve felt until spending time with Harper.

Gathering my briefcase and other work possessions that I may need this weekend at home, I’m out the door and in my car without so much as a goodbye to my employees. They’re too busy anyway making sure tonight is just perfect for the party.

It damn well better be.

The drive back to the apartment is about ten minutes typically. Thirty minutes in rush hour traffic in St. Louis. These assholes don’t know how to drive. Not like in Springfield. At least in traffic in Springfield people are courteous and don’t ride the brakes. I’m going to be immensely happy moving back home.

Parking and locking my car, since I don’t trust this neighborhood to steal everything but the steering wheel when I’m not looking, I head inside to get ready for the party tonight.

“Hey,” Harper exclaims when her eyes hit mine. Mid stride in the hallway, she pauses briefly and lets her gaze linger on my work outfit. “I’m late. I’m sorry” She shakes her head and rushes past me, heading to the kitchen.

“You working tonight?” I ask, leaning on the doorframe while she searches for something to eat. Finding a corndog in the freezer, she tosses it in the microwave and looks over at me.

“Yeah. They just called and need backup. There’s a shit ton of people in town this weekend apparently and they’re slammed.” She’s talking while tapping her foot and throwing her hair into a messy bun. Her makeup is darker than usual and there’s a hint of red to her lips that makes me want to suck all the color off of them. The white tank top she has on cuts well below where it should, and whatever strappy thing she has on underneath it makes me want to fuck her tits. Hard.

Shit.

“You need a ride?”

She pauses and looks at me, then to her ‘dinner’, then back to me.

“Um,” she mutters. “I can walk. Dinner on a stick and all,” she smiles. My eyes travel to her tits again; perfectly plumped with whatever bra she’s wearing. The strappy contraption under her shirt is still holding my attention. It’s pressed perfectly against her cleavage just begging for me to rip if off.

I notice her hand come to her chest and start absentmindedly running across the fabric of it. I look up at her and the grin on her face as she stares me down tells me it wasn’t absentmindedly done at all. She’s teasing me on purpose.

I growl and shake my head.

“I’m taking you to work,” I say pointedly.

“I can wa—”

I storm over to her, not letting her finish her words before my hand goes around her throat, pressing her collarbone, applying just enough pressure to heighten her senses. She’s glaring at me but she’s not scared. No…the only look on her face right now is pure lust. I’m close enough so she can feel my breath on her ear as I whisper words only meant for her ears.

“You’re not walking around the streets like this, Harper. Not tonight. You don’t know who’s out there tonight.” I do. My club’s too close and I’ve met some of the patrons that will be at the party tonight.

She doesn’t need to mingle with them until I’m in control.

“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?” Her voice is a whisper, but with how many times her eyes flick to my lips I know she’s not going to be putting up a fight anytime soon.

“I’m no one,” I whisper, staring at her lips. My eyes flick to hers and she’s fucking begging me for it.

She’s begging me for more than I can give her tonight, but hell if I don’t want to give it to her.

Maybe just a taste.

Leaning in closer, I press my lips to hers and almost grin mid kiss.

She’s so tense.

I can help with that.

When she doesn’t pull away, I kiss her harder, bringing the hand that was on her throat around her head and pull her towards me. A small moan escapes her lips and her body melts to mine. The kiss quickens and before I know what I’m doing, my mouth is going for her tits.  

“Knox,” she pants as my fingers slide under the straps of her undershirt. Goosebumps rise on her skin and I grin, burying my face between her tits and inhaling her scent.

Jesus Christ. I’m not certain my dick could get any harder right now.

Everything I’ve been working for is so close I can literally taste it but I can’t have it.

Not yet.

Pulling back abruptly, I clear my throat and wait for the onslaught of angry words that I’m certain she’s going to spew at me for that. Any girl would.

What I’m not prepared for, though, is the sly grin that spreads across her face. It reminds me of the Cheshire cat.

“Thanks for that.” She adjusts herself and grins at me. “The hot and bothered look gets me more tips at the bar.” She winks and pushes past me, leaving me stunned silent for the first time in my life.

I hear her leave, but I’m still in shock. What girl in her right mind wouldn’t be upset about that little tease? Is she not interested in me? Have I read her wrong?

No. That’s not possible. I’ve heard her moan my name in her sleep.

She’s just that good of a player.

And I’m going to have to work that much harder to break her.

With an hour to go before I have to be at the club for the party, there’s not time to relieve myself even though my dick is straining to get out of my pants.

Give it time.

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