All that’s left is breathing. That’s all I can hear. My breathing. Her breathing. And in the distance, I can hear her heartbeat, skipping down a paved track of exhaustion.
But there’s something stirring within me. Something that’s screaming: this is my girl. That sounds about right.
I want to protect her.
I want to keep her safe.
I want to own her.
Not because I don’t respect her. Not because she can’t take care of herself. Not because I’m a controlling dick.
But because I protect what’s mine. I cherish it. And bottom line, since the moment I saw her, I feel like Alyssa belongs to me.
Chapter Eight
Alyssa
My mind is dizzy, and my eyes blurry when I awaken from a deep sleep. The best sleep I’ve had on this side of my father’s most recent health scare, to be exact.
A deep enough sleep to escape the reality of the world, where dreams don’t dare interfere with complete solace. But there’s a strange feeling when I open my eyes and see the bed sheets scrunched up beside me.
Axel is gone.
Maybe it was all a dream. After all, what would a man like Axel want with a girl like me anyway? It’s not that I’m not attractive. I am. But waitressing in a strip club is the most exciting thing I’ve ever done.
Axel, on the other hand, is a natural fighter. He prefers to ride a bike over driving a car. He’s a bad boy, and I’ve sworn off bad boys since my mom left me and my dad for one.
Bad boys are no good for you. They’ll drag you into their troubles and upend your entire life. Hell, I stay away from boys in general because they’re nothing but heartbreak and annoyance.
And yet, there is an empty feeling in the pit of my gut when I roll onto my other side, and scan my bedroom. He’s still nowhere to be seen.
I slide out of bed, wrapping myself in a white sheet before making my way out of the bedroom. The front door has been left unlocked, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that he’s long gone.
That’s good, I think. I wanted sex, and Axel was the perfect man to give it to me. What I didn’t want was anything remotely resembling the start of a relationship. Still, there’s an annoying hollow feeling in my stomach.
If I had to judge the previous night on a scale from one to ten, my time with Axel was off the charts. What happened between the two of us—adults and consenting strangers—was the perfect distraction, enough so I could finally get the sleep I so needed.
But apparently, it wasn’t enough to make me feel satisfied.
Even hours later, all I want is more of Axel.
And that is a very dangerous thing.
* * *
After breakfast, I call Marley. When she doesn’t pick up, I text her. Still nothing. I wait for her to call me back, using the time to replay my night with Axel in my head, but when she still doesn’t call, I get dressed. I’d visit her, but she never told me where she lived. I call her again, begging her to get in touch. I run a few errands, and even attend an open audition for a reality TV show. It’s not the part I’ve been dreaming about since I was a young child, but it has the potential to pay well, and in my current circumstances, that’s all that matters. I need money more than I need stardom, and I need it fast. If I can’t get it through acting, it looks more and more like I’m going to have to give stripping a try.
Stripping. It’s such a mild word for what really occurs; it just doesn’t resonate with the emotions, good, bad, and ugly, that must go hand-in-hand with a woman dancing with her tits out, gyrating on a pole. That’s going to be me soon, I think.
I leave the audition with an apprehensive feeling in my stomach, and negativity brewing in my mind. I’m too out of my game, even after a mind-clearing fuck last night. I totally blew the audition, and it was for a damn reality show. It shouldn’t even count as a real audition in my book.
By the time I pull into the gravel parking lot outside Sugar Bare, I’m heading into a grouchy mindset. And I’m heading there fast. The occasional pain in my
not-broken, but fragile
ankle serves as a physical reminder of how much I loathe this place. I realize I never talked to Walt about what happened, and thus, all he thinks is that Marley and I disappeared on him. For all I know, the blonde guy Axel beat the shit out of called the police or told Walt some bullshit story about how Marley and I jumped him and tried to take his wallet.
Like we could inflict the damage Axel had. No, chances are he’d slunk back under whatever rock he’d crawled out from. Even so, I feel anxious as I step out of my car, my tall black heels crunching against rocks, and make my way to the back door. When I touch the doorknob, I hesitate and take a quick inhale, mentally preparing myself to be confronted by Walt.
But nothing can adequately prepare me for what I see when I open the door.
Axel, leaning against the wall with a blank expression on his face, wearing jeans, and another tee and blazer combination.
“What the hell are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”
“Are we really going to have the stalking conversation already?” He furrows a brow. “This is only the second time we’ve run into each other.”
“Cute. Are you going to answer my question?”
“The one where you rudely asked what I’m doing here?”
I nod. “Yeah, start with that one.” I pull the door shut behind me then cross my arms. “I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with a question or two afterward.”
He shrugs. “I work here.”
“Since when?”
“Officially?” He grins. “Tonight.” He points a finger at me, almost accusingly. “
You
could say I technically started last night.”
“So you weren’t just hanging out, like you said you were. You lied to me.”
His expression becomes serious. “I didn’t lie. I
was
just hanging out. I hadn’t decided whether to take a job here. That’s changed.”
“So saving me was just part of a job?”
“Does it matter?”
I swallow hard. “No,” I say, wanting to kick myself for how petulant I sound. “Thank you, by the way.”
“You already thanked me once.”
“Actually, I think, based on what we did last night, I thanked you way more than once.”
His grin returns, and I love how his face can go hard and serious one second, but soft and inviting the next. It dawns on me that he looks most natural when he’s smiling, and I like that. “I’m pretty sure it was just once,” he says, “But I can’t say for sure. I
was
kind of lost in the moment. But if you want to refresh my recollection…”
Boy, do I. Instead of voicing that, however, I force myself to say, “Look, what we had—what we did—last night was great—”
“It was
amazing
.”
“Yes. It was amazing. And if you want more, so do I.” I’m being upfront with him, more upfront than I’m used to being with anyone, but for some reason, it isn’t difficult. “At least, that’s what I would have said before seeing you here today. Now that I know we work together, I’m not so sure.”
“Well, let me assure you, I most definitely want more of you. As for working together, it’s going to be a bit of a distraction, yes, but we’re just going to have to deal with it. Because I’m here to make sure what happened last night doesn’t happen again.”
“You’re a new bouncer?” I question and tap my foot against the floor. “That’s great. The others weren’t cutting it.”
“Yeah, well, don’t worry. I’ve had words with them and Walt. They know what happened last night, and they know neither I nor their boss are happy about it.”
“You know Harvey Prince?”
“I’ve worked for him before.”
“Ah. More security work. You’re good at it.”
“Yeah? When you have muscles like this,” he points to his bulging bicep beneath his black blazer, reminding me how I’d flexed my own guns at him last night in the car, “bouncing is second nature.”
My eyes follow the path of his muscles, starting with the slight pulsing of the veins in his neck, and then down to his biceps and to what I know is a hard-as-steel set of abs. Only my gaze doesn’t stop there; it lingers on his crotch.
He clears his throat. “Um. My eyes are up here, Angel.”
My eyes dart back to his, my cheeks burning. Damn it!
“See?” I cry. “This is exactly what I was talking about. You’re going to be nothing but a huge distraction.” I shake my head and try to step backward, but I’m hit with a quick and sharp stabbing pain in my ankle. I hiss but shake it off. “I see you and I want you. I want you to take me, hard and fast. But we can’t.”
His eyes flare and he steps closer, so that the heat of his breath lands against my neck. It’s hot. Too hot. Too dangerous.
I put my hand on his chest, impeding his advance if only slightly. I look over my shoulder, to make sure nobody is watching, or even worse, listening.
He takes a shaky breath. “If you don’t want me to touch you, then you can’t tease me like that. My control is negligible where you’re concerned Alyssa. Now all I can think about is fucking you, hard and fast. Then slow and soft. And every single way in between.”
I lick my lips, badly wanting to know what he’s talking about. “Why don’t you meet me at the end of the night? Follow me home on your bike.”
“What if I say no?” He smiles, telling me there’s no chance of him doing that.
“You’re not going to say no,” I say, and part of me wonders why. He’s larger than life; I’m just trying to survive. But the sexual chemistry between us is burning a hole right through my common sense.
“I like the confidence. You wear it well.” He leans down and whispers in my ear. “You should wear it more often.”
“Get to work,” I say, but not before I impulsively turn my head and nip at his earlobe, making him hiss in a breath. I push him away, then head toward the dressing room to make sure Marley isn’t there.
“I like bossy women.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave my hand and keep walking.
But there’s a smile on my face and I can’t seem to wipe off even as my mind warns me I’m heading deep into dangerous waters. Already I feel safer just knowing that Axel is here. But feeling that sense of safety comes at a cost, because it requires depending on a man for something, and I don’t have a good track record with men, or much of a record at all, to be frank. In fact, if history is any indication, it will be me who ends up taking care of him. And with each passing day my father is in the hospital, I grow more and more terrified that the care I can give someone isn’t enough. That I’m on the verge of losing someone special to me.
Last night, Axel blew my mind. He took me on a journey of sexual awakening, and I missed him as soon as I opened my eyes to find him gone. I wanted him, and by his sudden appearance at the club, it’s as if I’d conjured his return.
It’s a dream come true.
And eventually, every dream has to end.
Chapter Nine
Axel
I keep my eye on Alyssa at all times throughout the night, but the later it gets, the more bodies that crowd the club. And each extra body is another body I have to keep my eye on. I must remain alert at all times; I’m looking out for all the women who work in the club, but I don’t even try to kid myself. My main concern is protecting her, and it has nothing to do with feeling protective of women in general. I’ve been able to do that in the past without getting personally invested. Without feeling that my very life depended on my ability to keep another person safe. I learned a long time ago the kind of suffering that can occur when I let a woman too close.
With Alyssa, I think of all I’ve lost. But I also think of all I can regain.
Once you’ve lost something you can’t get back, you do one of two things. You give up on getting close to people at all or you only stay close to a select few. I’m close with my friends Slate, Davis, Jericho, and Street. Even a couple of guys from the military. I’d fight like hell to make sure I didn’t lose them.
And I know the same is true for Alyssa.
I don’t know her very well. Not yet. But I know that I absolutely cannot fucking lose her.
I straighten from the bar and walk the perimeter of the room, watching her as she carries a tray of drinks to a table in the furthest reaches of the club. Then I see it. A man in a white T-shirt and jeans with work boots—who shouldn’t have been granted entrance to the club according to the dress code—smacks her against her ass.
She freezes in place.
I’m headed toward her when she catches my eye and shakes her head. She mouths the word “no,” and I hesitate. I know she’s proud. I know she’s strong. I know she has to handle crap like that every day on her own.
She turns to Work Boots, and I pray she grabs him by the shirt and teaches him a lesson or two. Instead, she simply smiles and says something I can’t hear—she’s too far away and the music is too loud. The guy is staring at her lips as she talks, and even I can’t blame him, because when she smiles, it’s pure perfection, a painting from God himself.
I’ve seen many smiles in my life, but hers takes the cake and the icing too. It makes me hard, of course, but I don’t just want her body. I don’t just want to simply touch her in every place there is to touch. I don’t just want to fuck her until she’s unable to stand. I want all that, but I want all that and more. And then I want something else, too.