Back to TROUBLE | Chapter 1 | Chapter 3
Heat began to build inside her and Samair opened her eyes to scan the mass of bodies on the dance floor. “It’s a bit of a high, isn’t it?” Joey’s voice was husky as she moved closer.
Samair lost track of time as they danced with abandon, bumping and grinding against each other, lost in the flashing lights and loud music. The heat of many eyes landed on her, and she enjoyed every minute of it. Joey’s soft and feminine hands floated over her curves, and Samair shifted closer as one of those hands slid under the cover of her hair. Joey put her forehead against Samair’s, and the women gazed into each other’s eyes.
“It’s been a long time, Sammie.” Joey’s breath floated over her lips.
“It has,” she replied, trailing her own hands teasingly over Joey’s bare back as she writhed against her. “I’m sorry.”
Both of Joey’s hands cupped her head and she spoke clearly. “You never need to apologize to me. I’m just happy to see you.”
The she kissed her. A hard kiss on the lips that lingered for just a second. When they pulled apart, it was to hoots of approval and raucous clapping.
“Welcome back, Trouble.”
They shifted apart, and Joey gave another piercing rebel yell. Samair’s grin was a mile wide as she slipped between the bars of the cage and dropped back to the carpeted floor that edged the dance floor. Her heart was pounding and her breath came in pants, but she couldn’t remember when she’d felt better.
Reaching between the bars she grabbed her backpack from the floor of the cage and pulled out the blouse she’d removed while dancing. After using it to pat her neck and upper chest dry, she reached for the drink she’d set aside earlier. The ice had melted but it quenched her thirst well enough.
A bead of sweat trickled between her breasts and she thought about reaching down to wipe there, but reconsidered when she felt intent eyes still on her. She might not be shy, but she wasn’t tacky either.
“You’d think they’d never seen a woman in a camisole before,” she said when Joey dropped down to the floor beside her.
“It’s not that. My God, look around you. Most of the time there’s more bare skin in Risqué than on the beach.” Joey laughed and threaded her arm around Samair’s. “It’s the fact that your camisole is this virginal white satin and lace thing that looks downright naughty at the same time. It’s one of yours, isn’t it?”
Samair nodded and felt a sting of pride. She’d made the top herself. Since the age of sixteen her passion for sewing, combined with her curvy and slightly disproportionate body, had inspired her to create clothes for herself that fit and looked good, including lingerie.
“You don’t think it might be because you stripped me of my blouse and then kissed me?”
“Ya think?” Joey giggled and steered her to a booth along the back wall where there was small group of people. “What can I say? I’m happy to see you.”
While they walked Samair felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise and glanced around. Someone was watching her again. Closely.
“Everyone, this is Samair. Sammie, this is…everyone.” She laughed and waved at hand at the five others sitting in the booth.
“I’m Rob.” The guy closest to her held out his hand. After shaking her hand, he pointed to each of the others as he rattled off their names. “That’s Tara, Kelly, Jason and Savannah.”
Each of them was dressed to the nines, with a unique individual style that bared a lot of skin and cleavage. Samair figured they were some of Joey’s dancer friends. The waitress arrived at the table and Joey ordered two tequila and water. Samair added her order of two as well.
“One of those was for you,” Joey said as they sat down.
“I know, but I want two, and you’re going to keep up with me.” She met her friend’s raised eyebrows with a grin.
“Not a problem, little girl.” Joey replied smartly. “So tell me what’s new. I haven’t talked to you in almost two months, and I haven’t seen you in — geez! In what? Almost three years?”
“Something like that.” Samair glanced around the table of strangers. Even though none of them appeared to be listening, she didn’t want to talk about how her day had gone.
Hell, she didn’t want to think about how her life had gone. She just wanted to be with someone who knew her, and have a good time. “Can I tell you about it tomorrow?”
“Am I going to see you tomorrow?”
“Sure, I’m staying at your place for a while.”
When Joey grinned and nodded, Samair relaxed and let out the breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding. Joey had been the one who’d tried to keep them in contact. Samair had been too busy to go to the bar with her or even call her back. It was her fault they’d lost contact, and she was thankful Joey wasn’t the type of friend who would hold it against her.
“Excuse me.” The waitress leaned over Samair’s shoulder and she shifted in her seat so the girl could reach the table. She pulled some cash out of her pocket and waitress shook her head. “The drinks are on the house.”
Samair’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. “Really?” she asked the pretty waitress. “Why?”
“Val said so, and what he says goes.”
The waitress walked away before Samair could even tip her. She glanced at Joey. “Who’s Val?”
“Valentine Ward.” Joey raised her glass and nodded at the far corner. “He owns the club.”
Samair’s head swiveled and she searched the corner Joey had indicated, and collided with the super intense gaze of the man there.
Even dressed in crisp pressed trousers and a tailored dress shirt, and with his strong masculine features softened by a small smile, he had a lean lethal look about him. As if he were a barely tamed wild animal. Before she could get a really good look at him he stepped back, deeper into the shadows, but she could feel the heat of his gaze on her.
A shiver danced down her spine.
“He doesn’t mind you drinking while you work?”
He was the one who had been watching her; she knew it without a doubt.
“Not as long as we don’t get smashed. You’re fired if you get drunk, and he always knows when someone does.”
Joey watched as Sammie laughed at one of Rob’s ridiculous jokes. She’d never met the dancers Joey worked with before, but you’d never know it to see the way they all laughed and joked together.
It had always been like that. Sammie could walk into a room full of strangers and fifteen minutes later everyone was in love with her. There was just something about her that made people want to be with her.
Everyone wanted to be with Sammie, but only the guys wanted to be with Joey. For whatever reason, most women didn’t like Joey. They especially didn’t like Joey around their boyfriends, which was stupid because she’d never fool around with a guy who was taken.
Joey cringed inside. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Normally she was positive and enthusiastic about everything, but lately … it was probably just hormones. She’d been feeling a little lonely, so Sammie’s timing was perfect.
It would be nice to have someone around to talk to. Someone who saw beyond the flirtatious cage dancer persona that felt all too real lately.
A short time later, Samair came out of the ladies room in time to see Valentine Ward climbing the stairs to the second floor. Unable to deny the impulse, she followed him.
It was getting late, close to the end of the night and the stairs were empty. Almost everyone was either on the dance floor or cozying up to another warm body in a dark corner. She was on the bottom step just as he reached the top, and she got a quick view of fine cotton tightening over the perfect shape of his butt. How could a man’s ass look that good in dress pants? Normally only tight denim or bare naked looked so yummy to her.
Sure, her blood had been running hot all night, but that sight made her breath catch and her fingers itch.
She climbed the stairs, her eyes tracking him as he crossed the floor. He waved at a blond guy with tattoos who sat at the bar in the small VIP section, but didn’t slow his pace. He nodded at the bouncer watching over the sectioned off space, then turn left and disappeared down a corridor she hadn’t noticed earlier.
Throwing her shoulders back, she sauntered behind him, flashing the bouncer a small smile. When she entered the corridor, there was an open door at the end of it.
“Enjoying yourself tonight?” he asked when she entered the room.
He stood behind a large wooden desk, his head bent as he slid something into a drawer. She’d been silent, but he’d known she was there. Impressive.
“Yes, I am,” Samair replied, stepping more fully into the office and looking around. “Are you?”
The room was very clean and modern, though not large. An overstuffed leather couch along one wall, some bookshelves, a closed door to the right of her and a floor-to-ceiling wall of windows on her left. It looked normal, yet the air in the room seemed to vibrate with an extraordinary energy. When the drawer of his desk snapped closed, she stopped fighting it and let her gaze focus on him.
Midnight dark hair slicked back in a small ponytail only emphasized the strength of his features. Dark eyebrows over even darker eyes, and shadows of stubble along his jaw gave him an edgy, dangerous look. His stark handsomeness was completely masculine, except for the softness of full sensuous lips that lifted at the corner before he spoke. “I’m about to enjoy it more.”
He looked like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and the gleam in his eye told her she was the lamb he wanted.