Chapter Four
Despite the three drinks earlier, I remained sober. Without a word, I left Cort’s side and as if pulled by an invisible string, walked off the stage, directly to the man’s table. His laser-sharp focus remained on me, and a curl of something unknown and frightening twisted through me. The music boomed like a mountain of sound as I came face-to-face with the man who’d sabotaged my sleep for months.
“Hello.” His gentle voice with its light accent set my nerves tingling. It was at such odds with the power of his large frame. I held my head high and hoped my voice would remain steady.
“Hello. Do you want a dance?”
“Not now. How are you, and how was your week?”
I blinked at him. Was he teasing me? The slight smile tilting his lips was unmistakable.
“Why?” I tossed my head. “We aren’t friends. I don’t—”
“We could be,” he said, interrupting me. “I’d like to be your friend.”
This was nuts. “Look. I’m here to work. Do you want a lap dance?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I gnawed on my lower lip, annoyed at my hot flare of disappointment. “Okay, well…I have to go dance, then.” I turned to go.
“I want a private dance.”
A dangerous thrill showered through me, and I raked my waves back off my face, saying with a nonchalance I didn’t feel, “Okay. Follow me.”
We walked to the back, my heart thumping almost as loudly as the music. Remembering the most important thing, I stopped so suddenly, he almost ran into me.
“Changed your mind?”
I had to raise my eyes to meet his. I grazed six feet, but this man topped me by several inches.
“Private dances are expensive. I have to tell you before we start. Those are the rules. There’s a bottle charge and a one-hour minimum. It’s $400 per hour.”
That slight smile reappeared, and he reached out his hand to brush the curls from my face. “Let’s go. There’s no price tag you can put on how you make me feel.”
For a moment I allowed myself to be drawn in and swayed toward him. It would be easy to let him take the lead. A noise caught my attention, and I saw Frankie in the arms of a man, walking out the door of his assigned room—his pupils dark, face flushed, looking thoroughly owned.
Not me. No. That put my head back together, and I waved my hand.
“Fine. Let’s go.” I heard his footsteps behind me, and occasionally his suit jacket would brush my naked skin, but I refused to let it affect me. We reached my assigned room, and after he entered, I closed the door and turned on the one lamp, which sent a spill of golden light across the richly carpeted floor.
A large sofa, big enough for two to recline on easily, took up the back wall. A low coffee table sat before it on squat legs. There was a music center on a table to the side, and a large-screen television hung on the wall next to the door.
“What would you like to drink?”
“I think it’s here already,” he said, pointing to the bar in the corner, and he was right. Platters of shrimp and fresh cheeses and fruit flanked a bottle of scotch and a bucket of ice. A vase of crimson roses perfumed the air. A creeping suspicion hit me, and I whirled around to face him.
“What would you have done if I said no?”
He crossed over to the sofa and unbuttoned his suit jacket. “I would have had to persuade you.” With casual grace, he sank into the sofa and unknotted his tie while my insides did a flip and I struggled to maintain control. “Pour me a drink, please, and come sit down.”
“What’s your name?” I asked, staying where I was.
“May I have that drink?”
I added some ice to the cut-glass tumbler, poured him the scotch, and brought it over to him. “Why don’t you want me to know your name? I’ll tell you mine.”
“I already know.”
I took a guess. “You’re a friend of James’s, aren’t you?”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment and sipped his drink.
Frustrated by his silence and growing tired of his games, I walked over to the music system and fiddled with it for a moment until I found what I wanted. The driving beat changed the mood in the room from thick with untapped desire and tension to one where I was in control.
“You asked for a dance, and that’s what I’m here for. Nothing else. I don’t have to kiss you or touch you.” I spoke more bravely than I felt because there wasn’t anything I wanted more than to have him put those hands on me.
His smile remained faint, almost mocking. “I never said I wanted to kiss you.”
My cheeks burned at his words, and in that moment I hated him and wanted to hurt him. “I’ve kissed a lot of guys. Maybe you think ’cause you’re rich, I’ll lie and say you’re better than everyone else. I don’t play those games.”
He set his glass down and stood, his movements fluid and quick, surprising me once again. He plucked a fresh red rose from the vase on the table and joined me by the music system. The room shrank down in size until it was him and me staring at each other with our hearts in our eyes.
“Then what game are you playing?” He reached out and trailed his fingers across my jaw, leaving a line of fire behind his light, teasing touch.
“I-I’m not.”
His fingers grazed my chin and dipped into the curve of my cheek. The velvet rose petals glided against my shoulder. My unsteady breathing roared in my ears, and I wanted to both run away and crush my lips to his.
“You’re the one playing games. Watching me all these months. Sending gifts. Refusing to tell me your name—”
“Rhoades.” He stopped me midsentence. “My name is Rhoades. Rhoades MacKenzie.”
Giving me his name made it more personal between us. The music swirled its beat around us as we stood in that room, our bodies inches apart. Men put their hands on me all the time, and it meant nothing—merely a way to let them think they knew me. But no one did. For as much as I danced half-naked, I hid my heart.
“Well, Rhoades. Do you want that dance now?”
He nodded, and I drew the tie off his neck, draping it around my own. The long silken tails caressed my stomach.
“Thank you for the presents. I want you to know I appreciate it.” I smoothed my hands down my chest and abdomen. “I’m wearing one of the oils now. Sandalwood.” I rocked my pelvis and thrilled at his dark, ravenous gaze. “It smells like you.”
Bolder now, I pushed my hands against his chest. “Sit down so I can do this right.”
He circled my wrist with his hand, and I shivered at its strength, knowing he could crush my bones beneath his fingers. “Everything you do is right.” He dropped my hand and returned to sit on the sofa. I followed him and he sat back, legs stretched out. That devouring stare never left my face, and I swayed before him. He handed me the rose then, and I took it automatically, bringing it to my nose to sniff its rich scent.
“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” I straddled him and began to dance. The fine wool of his suit brushed my skin, and heat poured off his muscular thighs. I didn’t dare grind down against his lap, fearing if I touched him, I might lose all willpower.
“Then you haven’t been with the right men.” He placed his hands on my hips, his touch on my naked flesh shocking me. Rhoades’s thumbs tickled my hip bones, and my breath caught as an unaccustomed yet undeniable wave of lust slammed into me. I grew hard under his gentle touch, my surprised gaze flying to his even as I couldn’t help but rock my hips. Seeking. Needing.
“You’re so hard inside that jockstrap, aren’t you?” His eyes narrowed when I didn’t answer. “Aren’t you? Hard and wet. I bet it’s soaked right through.” He inched lower until his fingertips slid along the elastic of my shorts. I wanted to tell him to stop. To not touch me there. But I couldn’t speak the lie. I wanted those strong hands on my body, wrapped around my cock. I bit back a whimper of frustration at my capitulation and remained silent.
“You don’t have to answer. I can tell. I can smell how much you want me.” He breathed deep, and his thick cock swelled beneath my legs. “Do you know how much I want you? How many nights I sat watching you dance, your body moving with the grace of a swan gliding in the water?” His voice took on a hypnotic quality, entrancing me even as his fingers teased my burning skin.
“I imagined how smooth your skin would feel under my fingers. Like the finest silk.” He rubbed the top of my groin, and I shuddered. “Your hair here too would be soft and silky to the touch. My touch. And I thought about how I’d like to put my mouth on you here.” He circled my pubes with his index finger. “Taste you.” His fingers slid under my shorts, and a triumphant smile lit his face as he discovered how wet that jock truly was.
“Your lips would open, and I’d slide my tongue inside your mouth and you’d suck it. Your mouth is made for love.”
He left my shorts and touched my mouth, playing along the plumpness of my lower lip. My breath came fast, and I sighed as his finger slid inside. My tongue licked and suckled his finger, and he slowly pumped it in and out of my mouth. Never would I have imagined this to be me: perched on a man’s lap, holding a rose, sucking his finger, breathless with passion.
“Beautiful.” He withdrew his finger, and I panted, no longer ashamed. My body felt curiously free yet tense with a thrumming need running beneath my skin. I dropped the rose on Rhoades’s lap and put my hands on his shoulders, light-headed with desire.
Rhoades pulled my head down to his and spoke against my mouth. “I want to kiss you.” My lips throbbed where he touched them, and this time I couldn’t silence my groan.
The first touch was gentle…like a feather brushing my skin.
“Please,” I whispered, unsure what I was begging for but needing whatever he would give me. “Please.” He lay back on the sofa and took me with him in his arms.
In his deliberate, unhurried manner, Rhoades kept his kisses light and soft at first as if to gauge my reaction. When I didn’t protest, he delved deeper, his kisses turning fierce and possessive. I quivered and pressed my mouth harder to his, clutching the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. The shock of Rhoades’s lips on my skin lit my body on fire, and I writhed in his arms. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I touched mine to his. It couldn’t have been more wrong…what I was doing. Others might do back-door sexual favors, but not me. The first thing James warned us all about was that we shouldn’t get so intimate with a client. Yet every sweep of Rhoades’s tongue and brush of his hands on my skin made me feel real, important, worthy. Not that I needed him for that, but his respect for me, his obvious pleasure in my body gave me power.
When this night began, I couldn’t ever have imagined I’d end up lying on top of Rhoades, kissing him with quiet desperation, sucking his full lower lip into my mouth. A greedy hunger built inside me, and I arched against him as he nibbled at my ear and sucked my neck. Everything I promised myself had changed when he put his lips on mine. I wanted to hold hands with him on the street, to hear him laugh in my ear. I wanted him inside me. I struggled to stem the rising wave of anxiety that crashed over me.
“What’s wrong?” Rhoades’s hands cupped my ass and his cock pressed hard against my thigh. I swore I could feel the pulsing down his shaft. My blood raced, my breathing short and unsteady. The room spun, and I lay shaking, dizzy from a combination of desire and fear.
“No. I don’t know.” I pushed myself off and away from him and stood swaying until my vision cleared. “I can’t do this. I’m not going to get on my knees for you or fuck you in a club.” I scrubbed my face in my hands, and that helped clear my head. I didn’t know what it was about Rhoades that caused my body to take over my brain, but I wasn’t about to let lust for a stranger ruin my independence. I pulled his tie from around my neck, the heaviness of the silk smooth and luxurious in my hands. I remembered my father had ties exactly like this, and it convinced me even more I was doing the right thing. I wouldn’t be bought. I’d already turned that down once before.
I draped the tie over his shoulder. “Here. If you want, I can tell James to give you back your money for the time. I can pay him back.”
Harsh lines scored Rhoades’s face, and his eyes narrowed. A coldness swept through me at his look, and I shivered, imagining him in a business deal. I’d seen that look before. On my father’s face.
“Fuck the money. I don’t give a damn about it. What the hell happened? I thought…” Red patches stained his cheeks, and curiously, I was happy to see him show an emotional side.
“Nothing. I told you. I’m not going to fuck you because you’re a rich guy with money. That shit doesn’t mean anything to me.” Not after I’d spent years hiding who I was. Having money didn’t make life better, only easier to take. Or to find the ways and means to forget.
“I never…”
At his step toward me, I took two back. He put his hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you, goddammit. Is that what you think?”
“I think it’s time to leave.” The rose he’d given me lay bruised and broken on the floor. The best I could do at that point was take short, deliberate steps that would get me to the door without falling to my knees. I wrenched it open and waited for him to leave. But of course, a man like Rhoades didn’t listen to what people told him to do.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what happened. If I hurt you, I’m sorry, and you have to give me a chance to make it up to you.”
“Is that what you do in real life? Refuse to accept when someone says no to you? Well, understand me clearly”—my chest hurt from holding my heart so tight—“I don’t care about your money or what you do for a living. I’m not impressed. I’m not going to change my mind, no matter how much you beg.”
That got to him. He tugged his shirtsleeves.
“I don’t beg for anyone, Austin. And it’s time for you to stop doing what you do, running away instead of facing up to your problems.”
What did he know about me? I wasn’t interested—or was too scared—to stay and find out. “I gotta go. You know your way out.” I hurried away from him, not stopping even when I heard him call my name. I saw James out of the corner of my eye but didn’t stop. If he came after me and fired me, so be it.
I reached the dressing room and closed the door behind me, grateful it was empty. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my waist and huddled in a chair. My body ached, a bit from the dancing but mostly from the tension with Rhoades. Why he set me on edge and on fire at the same time I had no clue, but it had been years since any man affected me. I had to run. I had no choice. To stay would mean I’d give in to him. I was scared to death of letting go and losing myself.
The door opened, and Frankie poked his head in. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” His eyes narrowed, and in two seconds he crossed the room and joined me in the chair, snuggling close to me. “What’s wrong? Was it that guy?” He sat up and took my face between the palms of his hands. “Did he try and hurt you? Lemme go get James.” Frankie kissed my cheek. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you. We’re blood brothers.”
Yeah, I thought bitterly. Our blood’s been spilled enough.
“No, he didn’t. But…I-I let him kiss me, and touch me, and fuck it, Frankie…” I stifled a sob. I was the strong one, yet here was Frankie comforting me. “I wanted him to. I didn’t want him to stop.”
“Oh, honey, it’s about time.” Frankie held me. “It’s about damn time, is all I have to say.”
The two of us sat curled up in that dressing-room chair for I don’t know how long…until a knock sounded on the door. Fear trickled down my spine in a shower of nerves, and I shivered and huddled closer to Frankie. If it was Rhoades at the door, would he go away if I didn’t answer? Or would his anger at my rejection push him to force the door open?
“Austin, are you in there? Austin.”
Frankie regarded me with those big brown eyes. “Do you want me to open it? I’m sure he knows we’re in here.”
Did I? Rhoades wouldn’t do anything with Frankie here. And I wasn’t some sniveling kid. The years had proven I could handle whatever life threw at me. So fuck him. I’ve got nothing to be afraid of. If he comes in, I can tell him to go to hell and be done with him for good.
“Yeah. Let him in.”
Austin and Rhoades’s story continues in Rhoades—Undeniable.