“Excuse me. May I ask why?” she questioned, slipping silk bra straps over her shoulders.
Her name wasn’t actually Bambi, but I never asked for their names. They were irrelevant. I only needed to know their bodies, and they only needed to know mine. I gave my women a name that suited them. For this chick, Bambi was a perfect fit. Every time she wanted something she’d look up at me with big, pleading, doe eyes. It was annoying.
When I told her Bambi was her new name, she smiled like it was a compliment. Little did she know, she was just a fill-in until something better came along—my myth, my Jessica Rabbit. She didn’t even get full payment, and thought the grand I paid her each week was worth what I made her do in bed.
I plucked my jacket from the back of the chair and stepped around the bed.
“Wait a minute. Let’s talk about this.” She whined, hopping on one foot, attempting to put on her sex kitten heels.
The hotel room door slammed in her face before she could stop me. I adjusted my tie and pressed the button on the elevator. An aggravated sigh pushed past my lips and I shook my head when the door opened behind me.
Thankfully, the elevator opened at the same time. She gawked at me with those big doe eyes, clad in only a bra, skirt, and heels. As the elevator doors closed, I could see a mascara-filled tear sliding down her cheek. It disgusted me.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my book and opened it. Licking my thumb, I shuffled through the pages until I came to Bambi’s. I drew a thick black line through her name and number, and then called to have the payments to her account stopped.
Standing in front of the two-way mirror in my office, my eyes admired the crowd of dancers below. This was mine. The building, the club, everything was mine. It was the only thing I truly loved. The only thing I would never get tired of.
The beat of the music shook the glass and I pressed my palms against it to feel the vibrations.
The door to my office opened, allowing the music to come in and blend with the sensations running through my fingers. I didn’t bother turning around, I knew who it was. She shut the door behind her, making the room silent again.
“So I tried to pay my monthly mortgage today, but the lady told me I no longer had a mortgage. Apparently, my condo has been paid in full. Know anything about that?” Vick inquired, accusation dripping from her tone.
I was hoping she’d never bring it up. With my back to her, a knowing grin tugged at the side of my mouth. “Nope.” I quickly changed the subject. “Any deep pockets out tonight?”
She didn’t push the whole money situation and I was glad. I never wanted to be put on a pedestal as some financial hero, and I could always count on Vick to keep me grounded.
“Definitely some deep pockets.” I heard the smile in her voice. “You coming down? There’s a few red-carpet walkers asking for you.”
Spending the night in a VIP room full of celebs used to be exciting, but not so much anymore. I’d slept for shit the night before—nightmares waking me every time I closed my eyes. I wasn’t feeling it. But like any other good businessman, I knew I had to make an appearance—act the part of the rich club owner. It was total bullshit. I knew it, and Vick knew it, too.
“Yeah. Let them know I’ll be down in a bit.”
Vick didn’t respond, but the door opened and closed again.
Turning away from the mirror, I grabbed my coat and buttoned it up as I took to the steps. I was instantly hit with loud music and red lights when I stepped onto the main floor.
I moved along the outside wall toward the bar for a drink. I’d need the good shit, if I wanted to make it through the night. With my back to the bar, I had a front row view of the sweaty bodies grinding against each other. The distinct smell of alcohol and sexual desire floated around the room.
Once I got the attention of one of my bartenders, I nodded at him, signaling I was ready for my first drink. I didn’t have to wait long before a glass was sliding in my direction. Turning, I leaned against the bar and took in the room, sipping my drink. My eyes bounced from one half-naked woman to the next.
And then I saw her.
Long waves of crimson fire shimmered in the lights, as she worked her way across the room. She turned and smiled at a table full of guys who were talking to her and making obscene gestures. Her thick-lipped smile kindled something deep in my groin—a tiny spark ignited and made my balls ache. Long lashes skimmed her cheeks, amplified by the eye-batting she gave the guys before walking away.
When she turned my way, I saw the name Clive’s stretched across her full chest. The yellow T-shirt material clung to her breasts and I could see the white lines of a simple bra underneath. She was oblivious to her seductiveness, which made her all the more appealing.
25
