You and I Together Page 15

  I can tell by the way his body tightens and his wrists pull against their restraints that it is taking everything he has to let me do this. To let me tease and torture him. We both know he could easily get his hands free and yet, he has made no attempt to do so. Though I am starting to question how much longer that is going to be the case.

  Dropping to my other knee, I crawl up his body, trailing my lips across his chest, up his neck and along his jawline. Planting a featherlight kiss to his lips, I slowly begin working my way back down, this time moving so slowly that by the time I reach the bottom of his stomach, the song has already switched again. This time to “Stay” by Rihanna.

  Taking advantage of the songs slow tempo, I trail my kisses lower and lower until the tip of his dick is on my lips and I am pulling him into my mouth. I hear his ragged breathing even over the loud music pounding around us. I can feel him shake beneath my touch as I suck him further into my mouth, the tip of him hitting the back of my throat.

  I wrap my hand around the base and slowly begin to move up and down in time with the music, my mouth taking him as deep as I can, my hand working the rest of him. I can feel every movement of his body, every twitch, every quiver.

  As hard as it is for me to maintain control, I continue my slow assault, refusing to let myself give in just yet. This is for him. For his pleasure. I know that mine will come. Taking him even deeper into my mouth, I smile around his width when a deep groan escapes his throat.

  “Anna. Stop.” His words are broken and I can feel his erection swell. He's close. Very close. Tightening my grip, I continue my slow steady movements, refusing to let up. I want this. I want to feel him come apart beneath me. I want to taste him in my mouth, on my lips.

  “Anna.” Another broken word, this one barely breaking through the sound of the music before his hands plunge into my hair and hold me in place as he spills his release into my mouth. I swallow and suck, making sure that not one drop of his orgasm escapes me.

  It isn't until he stills my movements with his hands that I realize he has broken free of his restraints, though I have to admit, I'm surprised he let me get away with it for as long as he did. Looking up at him innocently, I seductively lick the reminiscence of his release from my lips and smile wickedly at him.

  He may have just been brought to release with my mouth but I can tell from the heat in his eyes that his hunger is far from being satisfied. Leaning forward, he wraps the tie, still over my neck, around his fingers and pulls me upwards. Sliding up his body, I settle my weight down on him, his erection still hard against my stomach.

  “You are going to be the death of me.” He shakes his head, letting out a deep exhale. “But I'm not done with you yet.” He breathes, reaching around me to spread my legs open so that I am forced to straddle his waist.

  “I want to be inside of you.” He teases the tip of his erection at my entrance. “I want to be so deep that the only thing you can feel is me.” He lifts me up slightly by my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh.

  “Yes.” I hiss as he slowly slides me down onto him. It takes a few moments for my body to accommodate his size but once I do, I push down hard, wanting to feel him as deeply as I possibly can. Pushing back so that I am sitting upright, I place my feet on each side of him and push my weight up so that I am able to move more freely and deeper at the same time.

  The music switches again, this time to a song I don't recognize, with a deep beat and slow tempo, it matches the movement of my body perfectly. It's like I am dancing, only Bentley is my stage. And as his hands reach for me and pull me back down onto his chest, I know that there is no where for me to go from here.

  He owns me. He owns my mind. He owns my body. And as he takes my mouth with his and coaxes me to my release, I know without a doubt exactly where my heart belongs as well. Right here with him.

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  “Where have you been?” Lo sighs loudly as she pushes her way into my dressing room. “I feel like I haven't seen you in ages.” She whines, pushing the door closed behind her.

  “Lo, you saw me Tuesday.” I remind her. “Today is Sunday. It's been like four days.” I laugh, shaking my head at her in the reflection of the mirror in front of me.

  “Whatever.” She crosses the room and flops down on the couch along the far wall. “It still feels like forever.”

  “Uh oh.” I say, turning to face her. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.” She sighs, rubbing her forehead.

  “Lauren Hannock, do not lie to me.” I scold her, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “You are clearly upset about something so just tell me what it is.”

  “I hate men.” She huffs, throwing herself backwards onto the couch and then covering her face with her arms.

  “No you don't.” I try to contain my laugh.

  “Okay maybe I don't.” She laughs, pulling her arm back just enough that she can see me looking at her with both a look of concern and amusement. “Have you ever met someone, before Mr. Perfect, I mean.” She tacks on before continuing. “Someone that just sticks with you for whatever reason?”

  “Before Bentley?” I question out loud, giving it a decent amount of thought before answering. “I can't say that I have. Most men were kind of take it or leave it for me. There was no one that I really thought about beyond our hook ups or anything.” I shrug. “Why do you ask?”

  “Promise you won't judge?” She laughs when she sees the annoyed look on my face.

  “Like I have any room to judge anything you would do.” I laugh, thinking back to all the crazy shit I have done, the most recent being a one night fling with the owner of the company I work for that has since turned into a full on relationship. Yeah, I definitely have no room to judge anyone.

  “I met someone.” She says, pushing herself into a sitting position.

  “Who?” I ask, trying not to sound too overly excited by the idea of Lo actually finding a man beyond a casual hookup. In some weird way, I feel like maybe it would make me feel like less of a failure for caving on my no relationship rule.

  “He's a client.” She says, clearly bracing herself for what she is expecting to be a verbal lashing from me. I don't know why she feels like she has to worry about me, given my past and all.

  “Like a client here?” I ask, wanting her to give me more information before I weigh in.

  “Yes.” She grits her teeth.

  “Lo, you don't need me to tell you what you should or shouldn't do with a client. You know the rules and you know how most of the men here play. But I have to ask, who is it?”

  “That's the kicker.” She sighs, pushing herself into a stand. “I have no idea.” She starts pacing the small room. “I've never seen him before. He came in Friday night. I was at the bar with Sean when he approached me and requested a private. I swear to God girl, the moment I turned around and looked at him, I think I came right then and there.” She admits, stopping when I burst into laughter.

  “Laugh all you want but I'm serious. Damn it Logan. He's got longer dark hair, like the messy shaggy look and the sexiest dusting of facial hair across his jaw. And the tattoos. Oh my God. Sleeves down both arms and yet, he didn't look like the type of bad boy you would expect to see covered in tats like that.” She laughs, fanning herself. “He was dressed nice but not like our normal clients dress either. There was something so different about him.” She continues.

  “Anyways, so he requested a private and of course, I accepted. I was so nervous when we finally reached the room that my hands were all sweaty and my legs were even fucking trembling. Trembling Logan!” She exclaims, stopping in place to pin her eyes on me. “Since when have you ever known a man to make me nervous?”

  “Never.” I admit, surprised by how much her situation reminds me of the first time I danced for Bentley. God, I still remember that day like it was yesterday. Even thinking about it makes my heart pound out of my chest.

  “Exactly!” She bursts, pacing again. “So I dance
d for him. But it wasn't like a normal dance. There was something about him that had me wanting to do so much more than dance. And no, it wasn't just his looks.” She cuts me off just as I am about to speak.

  “Okay so then what happened?” I ask, needing to rush this along before my last dance of the night. Glancing at the clock, I have less than five minutes to get the story out of her and then haul ass to the stage.

  “Nothing.” She sighs, stopping once again in the center of the floor to face me. “I danced for him. That was it. I danced one song and when it was over, he kissed me on the cheek and thanked me. I have no idea who he is and I have yet to find anyone who does. I mean, obviously he's a member here right? But yet, no one knew him and when I asked Malcolm, who was working the door, he said he couldn't remember specifically because he had seen so many people that night. Which is understandable given that it was Friday and we were pretty busy but seriously! How does a man that looks like that slip in and then back out without anyone knowing who the hell he is?”

  “Well if he is a member here, I'm sure he will be back.” I reassure her. “But Lo, you know I have to say it.”

  “I know. I know. If I am going to pursue a client, I need to be prepared for the fact that it could mean my job. I know.” She shrugs. “But I have to find out who he is.”

  “You want me to ask Bentley?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. “I'm not saying he will know but I am fairly certain if he doesn't know the man personally, he can probably find out who he is.”

  “Oh my gosh, would you please?” She crosses the room towards me and grabs my hands the moment I stand. “And you won't tell him why you want to know?”

  “I will figure something out.” I laugh when she pulls me into a tight squeeze. “Oh my God girl, you are the best.” She squeals, finally releasing me.

  “So he has messy dark hair. How long would you say?” I ask, needing the information so I can explain him to Bentley without actually ever seeing the man.

  “I don't know. Short but still long enough that his bangs hang across his forehead. His face is covered in a light dusting of facial hair; really short and well kept. And he has the cutest lopsided smile. Like melt your panties kind of smile.” She sighs to herself.

  “Anything else you can tell me that may help Bentley pinpoint who he is?” I ask.

  “He's tall. Not like super tall but at least six feet. Like I said, sleeved tattoos. He's built too. Broad shoulders and big arms but a nice lean waist. And his eyes are hazel.” She laughs when I turn a shocked look on her.

  “You actually know his eye color? Oh no, we are in some serious trouble.” I joke.

  “Shut up.” She laughs. “I gotta go. You'll let me know as soon as you know something?” She asks, turning to face me just as she opens the door.

  “Promise.” I say, laughing when she lets out another squeal and then practically skips out of my room. To say I am curious as to who this man could be is a bit of an understatement. I have never seen Lo so affected by a man before and I am dying to know more. Crossing the room, I flop down on the couch and slip into my red heels.

  “I can't do anything right this second Lo.” I laugh when my door flings back open. But my smile instantly fades the moment I realize that it is not Lo standing in my doorway, but Cora. “Sorry. I thought you were someone else.” I manage to get out just as she steps inside and closes the door behind her.

  “You got a minute?” She asks, crossing the room in a matter of seconds and pulling out the chair in front of the vanity.

  “Okay.” I say, my eyes not leaving her as she lowers herself onto the chair and swivels it to face me. Straightening her pencil skirt, she crosses her lower legs and then pins her eyes on me.

  “So I know that I am probably the last person you want to see.” Her tone surprises me and it takes me a moment to realize that while she is still her normal perfect self, there is a sadness to her eyes that I have not seen before and it takes me a moment to wrap my head around what that means.

  “I know that I have been awful to you and I want to say how sorry I am for that. You don't deserve it. You didn't make Bentley do anything he didn't want to do. Hell, no one makes him do anything he doesn't want to.” She laughs lightly to herself. “Truth is, I am in love with him. I have been in love with him for as long as I can remember. And when I found out that he was interested in you, I lashed out. My behavior was very unprofessional and uncalled for and I can't tell you how sorry I am about the way I have treated you.” She pauses, gauging my reaction before continuing.

  “I guess deep down I always thought that I would end up with him in the end. Through all the girls and wild nights, he always came back to me. I kept telling myself that one day, when he was ready to settle down and stop playing, it would be me that he would choose.” She shakes her head, laughing at her own words. Only it's not a humorous laugh but a sad one.

  “I'm sorry Cora but I have to go.” I say, gesturing to the clock. I feel bad for seeming so heartless but I also know that I need to get on stage.

  “I covered your dance. Tina's doing a fourth rotation to cover.” She says, giving me an apologetic look. “I didn't know when I would have the chance to speak with you.”

  “What exactly is it that you want Cora?” I ask, trying not to sound too apprehensive over what exactly her point is here.

  “I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. But I also came here to warn you as well.” She says, her eyes narrowing in on my face. “I know you don't trust me and I understand why you don't, but I promise you, there are no ulterior motives here.”

  “What are you trying to tell me Cora?” I ask, my patience slipping slightly. I want to hear what she has to say, mainly out of curiosity above anything else. But I also can't deny that a part of me is really scared about what she is going to say and whether or not it's going to have an effect on my current relationship with Bentley.

  “He's different with you. Anyone can see that. But I also know Bentley. Probably better than anyone else. And I couldn't walk away without at least warning you.”

  “Warning me about what?” This time my voice takes on an edge that I can't control.

  “You're not the first.” She says, her eyes meeting my gaze and holding. “He may tell you that you are the first girl he's dated, the first girl he's pursued, but it's not true. There was one before you. A dancer that is. At his New York club. Her name is Madeline but she goes by Madison. You need to talk to her.” She says, standing and backing away towards the door.

  “Talk to her about what?” I ask, not able to make myself move from my place on the couch.

  “Bentley is not the man he leads you to believe. Someone doesn't get to where he is without getting blood on his hands. He uses people Logan. He uses them and then discards them just as quickly. He will break your heart just like he has broken every heart of every woman that has loved him. When push really comes to shove, he will always protect himself first. I just wish I had realized that sooner.” She says, reaching for the door knob.

  “Wait.” I say, pushing myself into a stand. “You can't just come here and say all these things but give me nothing to back it up. Why would I believe you?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of myself.

  “You don't have to believe me.” She says, pulling the door open. “But at least this way, I can walk away with a clear conscious. I really am sorry for everything. It's hard to accept when you realize that you don't like the person you have become. I have wasted so many years waiting for a man that never had any intention of loving me the way I deserve to be loved. Please, do yourself a favor. Don't repeat my mistakes. Bentley loves Bentley. Don't waste some of the best years of your life on a man like him. Otherwise, you may end up exactly where I am years from now. Bitter, broken, alone. Not sure what your next steps are or where you go from here. But hey.” She says, turning back around just as she steps into the hallway. “Maybe I'm wrong. But you would do well to make sure you really know who you're dealing with before you give up eve
rything for that person. Good luck. I hope everything works out for you.” She says, walking away and leaving me standing in the middle of my dressing room not only confused, but angry as well.

  How dare she come in here and throw around such accusations with nothing to back them up. The nerve of her. But then through my anger, I also feel the doubt creep in. What if she's telling the truth? What if I really don't know Bentley at all? Hasn't that been a fear of mine all along?

  “Cora, wait.” I call out, quickly exiting my dressing room. I look in both directions but she is no longer in the hallway. Turning left and then right, I slip into the main room of the club and then head towards the front office.

  The moment I reach the door, I push my way inside but then stop dead in my tracks when I find Josh sitting behind the desk, not Cora. “Where is she?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even.

  “Where is who?” He asks, confusion riddling his face.

  “Cora.” I say, not leaving my place in the doorway.

  “Cora's gone Logan. She resigned.” He says, tossing down the papers in his hands and spinning his chair to face me. “Why? Did you need something?” He asks, looking at me curiously.

  “She resigned?” I question out loud, having been the last thing I expected to hear. “Why?” I ask the question even though I am fairly certain I already know the answer.

  “Not really sure honestly.” He says shrugging. “But I am surprised your boyfriend hasn't given you the inside on the situation considering he's known for a few days now.” He says, turning back towards the desk. “He's already arranged to have Shira fill in. You've met her I'm assuming.”

  “I have.” I say, not elaborating anymore on the fact. Truth is, I am ecstatic to hear that Shira will be here, I'm just too uneasy about the conversation I had with Cora to really embrace that excitement.

  “Anything else I can do for you?” He asks, cocking his head to the side and looking at me like there are a thousand other things he would rather be doing right now than talking to me.