He scanned the room with a cold contempt, then rose to his full height and shed his shirt in one powerful move that sent licks of desire shooting through me. Robert who?
Very slowly, he did another flip then sank down to the floor in a split while arching his back and moving his hips up and down with a rhythm that made it nearly impossible for me to catch my breath.
Like the men before him, he was simulating sex with the audience, but his was an angry fuck—so passionate and consuming there was no escape. Refusal wasn’t an option.
His slacks came off last. No colorful thong for him. No, his larger than normal package was restrained by black boxer briefs that should have been less sexy since they covered more but had the opposite effect. He was a man who played by his own rules, bent to no one, and would dominate if given the chance.
My phone vibrated with a message, but I ignored it. Even if that was Robert . . . especially if that was Robert . . . it was better for me not to talk to anyone right then. I was turned on beyond the point of guilt and afraid that might come across in my voice. My only consolation was the fact that everyone around me looked like they felt the same.
No one spoke while he danced. No one moved.
We were his for the taking.
He had to have martial arts training . . . and maybe ballet? By the time his act finished I was convinced the devil himself had taught him how to lead a soul astray. I didn’t know if I would have refused an intimate dance had he offered me one. My body was humming for his in a way it never had for Robert.
Scary, but I told myself that was the point of such a show.
When he left the stage, the lights came back on, and a collective release of tension was expressed in laughter and clapping.
“And that, my friends, is why Invio always sells out,” Leslie said.
“How do I fuck Bradley after that?” Debra joked.
“With your eyes closed and a prayer that you don’t call out the wrong name,” Leslie countered.
“That was so good I feel a little bad,” I said.
They both nodded and smiled. Of all the things to connect over . . .
My phone vibrated with another message. I took my phone out. Robert.
Where are you? Leslie doesn’t like Jade enough to hang out with her after the show. We don’t have a lot of time.
The next message was a photo of Robert naked on a bed with his cock in his hand along with the following text: Don’t make me start without you.
I had to read the texts twice before I understood that they weren’t meant for me and a cold descended on me. With the photo of Robert still on my phone I raised my gaze to meet Leslie’s. “Where did you say Daphne was?”
“Back at the hotel.”
I held up my phone to show her what Robert had sent me. “Is there something I should know?”
“Shit,” Leslie said with less shock than would have been comforting. “He told me it was over.”
“Over?” I blinked through waves of shock. “I didn’t know they’d ever been together. He told me she was your friend.”
Debra bent to see the photo then laughed. “Once a dog always a dog. That’s why I’m not with him anymore.”
Wait. What? “You were with Robert?”
“He’s a smooth talker, but I saw through him pretty quickly.” The expression in Debra’s eyes was almost sympathetic. “He doesn’t belong to a gym. Wake up, Jade, he doesn’t try very hard to cover his cheating.” She exchanged a look with Leslie. “Honestly, I’m glad she found out. It was getting painful to watch her believe his lies.”
The room spun around me. “You—you could have said something.” I turned to Leslie. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
Her eyes held no warmth for me. “What my brother does is none of my business.” She stood. “Come on, Debra, I did not sign up for the drama that is about to play out. What do you say we fly back to Boston tonight?”
Debra rose to her feet. “I’m in.”
Too drunk to know what to do with the anger flooding in, I stood and swayed as I said, “I should go as well—”
Her laugh cut me short. “Not with us, honey. You got yourself into this, you get yourself home. I feel for you, but my mother called it early . . . you don’t exactly fit in with us.”
“Thank God,” I said in a hoarse voice.
“Bitch,” Leslie said as she turned to walk away. “Come on, Debra.”
Debra paused and gave me a pained look. “Hey, better to find out now than after you changed your name, right?”
I sank back into my seat after they left and reread the message. My eyes filled with tears that spilled down my cheeks. Had I somehow brought this on myself by fantasizing about being with the headliner? Instant bad karma?
I shook my head and the room spun again. Robert didn’t belong to a gym? All those times he’d said he was going to work out . . . Oh, my God.
I sat there going over every conversation we’d had, every lie I’d failed to recognize. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice that the room had begun to clear after the show had ended. Our waiter appeared with the drink bill that neither Leslie nor Debra had paid before leaving. I dug through my purse for my credit card but couldn’t immediately find my wallet.
I paused, asked the waiter if he could come back in a few minutes, and burst into tears.
CHAPTER TWO
Kal
Never one to hang after a show, I’d already changed and was headed toward the exit when I heard the bartender say, “Marcus, we’ve got a problem. There’s a lady out there who doesn’t appear to have the money to pay her tab.”
“Have security handle it,” the club manager answered without missing a beat.
I started to walk past them, but something in the bartender’s voice brought me to a halt. “I don’t feel right doing that. She’s already crying and—”
“Not my problem,” Marcus said impatiently.
Not mine either. Still, something held me there. I had to know. “It’s not that little bachelorette with the tiara, is it?” She’d caught my eye in a way no woman who belonged to another man should.
The bartender turned to include me in the conversation. “That’s her. You know her?”
“No.” And it was better if it stayed that way. “What about her friends? They don’t have any money either?” That wasn’t how they’d come across. Working in high-end clubs had introduced me to their type on a regular basis—new money with a need to flaunt what they had. Those people didn’t dine and dash.
“They left without her. I wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying, but it didn’t look pretty at the end. Who leaves a drunk bride behind?”
Definitely a situation I’d be better off steering clear of. It was that last part, however, that brought out the protective side of me. The world was full of predators who lurked around, waiting for just such an opportunity. “I’ll handle it.”
Marcus’s attention snapped to me. “You’ll handle it?”
A lot of people backed down when Marcus questioned them in that tone, but he needed me a hell of a lot more than I needed him, and he knew it. I didn’t take jobs without looking into the place. Marcus might have one of the most exclusive male revues in the country, but he’d been hurting to fill the seats before I’d signed on for a three-month gig. I didn’t work for tips or without a solid contract. He couldn’t touch me.