AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’ve never been so thankful to see food, and not just because I’m starving. The waitress drops the plate in front of me and fills up my coffee cup. She turns to fill up the other cup on the table, but he hasn’t even taken a sip.
When she leaves, he draws in a deep breath, “Tell me why you were heading into Room 101.”
A chunk of beef patty gets stuck in my throat. Room 101. I didn’t know that was the name of Lucky’s club, and if I did, I’d probably think a little harder about heading there. It’s the name of the torture chamber in George Orwell’s novel,1984. Where prisoners are subjected to their own personal worst nightmares. A shiver runs down my spine. A weird name for a strip club.
He clenches and unclenches his fists. “You’re cold.”
“No.” I shake my head, chewing on a fry. “I’m fine.”
Ignoring me, he tugs his black sweater over his head, revealing a sculpted inch of flesh between his jeans and T-shirt, then holds it in a fist over the table. “Put it on.”
I’m really not cold but he doesn’t have to tell me twice. The soft fabric falls over my shoulders, still warm from his body. “I’ll give this one back to you,” I say softly, smile on my lips, “Promise.”
He groans. He has a habit of doing that. Just like he has a habit of clenching his fists and grinding his teeth like he’s in a constant state of conflict. He looks up to the strip lighting, revealing his bobbing Adam’s apple. “Room 101. I need to know why you were heading there and don’t lie to me.”
I pause, a million possible lies roll around my head like lottery balls; any could be chosen tonight. Meeting his steely gaze, I decide on the truth. Half of it, anyway.
“I need a job.”
His chest puffs and his lips purse. “A job. At Room 101.” His voice lowers to a growl, “You’re not getting a job there.”
Finishing my burger, I dab a napkin on the corners of my mouth and say, “Is that what you’re asking for in return?”
“Huh?”
“The night you rescued me. You said I’d owe you a favor. Isn’t not working at that club my favor to you?”
His eyes drop down to my lips. A ripple of lust spreads through my lower gut. “No. It’s a demand.”
The tension bubbles over the laminate table and I’m growing flustered under the heat of his gaze. “What if I want to work there?”
“Why would you want to work there?”
“Because I want to strip.”
There’s that vein in his temple again. Tick, tick, ticking as his brain works over. Eventually, he drags a knuckle over his jawline and flares his nostrils.
With an eerie stillness, he says, “Then you can strip for me.”
* * *
The mystery man drives me home in silence, but my brain is anything but. Over the blood rushing around my ears and my heart hammering in my temples, all I can think about is what I’ve just agreed to.
Then you can strip for me.
Well, I didn’t really agree, I just spluttered on my coffee, turned as red as my smeared lipstick, and choked out something between a ‘yes’ and an ‘okay, cool.”
But I’m anything but cool. My body is on fire and I’ve grown a new pulse. It’s in my pussy, and it thumps harder and faster every time I steal a glance at the driver’s seat.
He’s still, like he always is. Biceps flexing as he takes sharp corners, eyes trained on the road.
What the hell is happening?
I can’t even think about the eight-million-dollar debt looming over my head. Or the fact he drives straight to my apartment complex without needing directions. The tension crackling between us and the heat radiating off his imposing body is all-consuming.
He switches off the engine, plunging us into deathly silence. Glancing up at my dilapidated building through the windshield, he sneers in disgust. “You shouldn’t be living here.”
My voice is tiny. “I don’t really have a choice.”
