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“No reason.” His voice is filled with humor. “I just have it on good authority that Jensen Harkins has booked out most of the club and has specifically requestedyourgirl to perform for him in a private room.”
My whole body stiffens with every word he speaks. My heart rate kicks up to an abnormal rhythm, red hot possession slithering through my veins. Jensen Harkins. A millionaire investment banker and longtime patron of The Executive Club. He has never taken interest in any of the dancers, much past them performing, and has never requested anyone specifically. So why Ocean? Has she bewitched him too? The more I hear, the more I am beginning to think it’s a possibility. Yes, without a doubt, she is the most beautiful girl we have working at the club, but every other dancer in the place is stunning and has been working there longer. Why does he have a sudden interest in the blond-haired, blue-eyed witch?
Clenching my jaw, I take a breath, forcing myself to relax. Dante knew exactly what he was doing, coming in here and telling me this. But I refuse to give him the reaction he wants. Eyes locking on his, I grit my teeth at the smug smile curving his lips.
“Get Leo to up Jensen’s spending minimum. If he wants special treatment, he can fucking pay for it.” I drawl nonchalantly, like I’m not about to kill one of my clients.
Dante searches my face for a long beat. He must find what he was looking for because he bursts out laughing.
“Whatever you say, man. But a bit of advice? Don’t go to the Club tonight. People will notice if someone like Jensen Harkins disappears.”
***
I don’t know why I fucking came here.
I knew I should have taken Dante’s advice stayed away.
But that possessive, primal part of me insisted that I come and torture myself like a fucking masochist. Make sure that entitled prick Jensen keeps his hands to himself.
Sipping my whiskey, I stare down at the stage where she dances. Jensen and his associates all stare at her, licking their lips like she is a fucking Wagyu steak they want to devour. My eyes lock on her body as she writhes gracefully. She is art. The way she performs isart. Like a priceless Monet or Van Gough. Just watching her you can tell she has had extensive training. She wasn’t lying when she said she was a ballet dancer. The delicate way she moves, at one with the music like it was made just for her. My jaw clenches. She should be on stage with The New York Ballet, not taking her clothes off in my club. Though high-end, she is still better than this place.
Movement down below catches my eye. My gaze shifts to it, just in time to see one of the motherfuckers reach out to grab her. Anger pulses in my body. And I’m done. Spinning around, I place my glass on my desk before pulling the door open and striding out of my office. Without even thinking about what I am about to do, I step into my private elevator and make my way down to the basement.
Once inside, I enter the room that holds the power supply and with one flick of a switch, I plunge the building into darkness and silence. A smirk curves my lips as the music disappears. Panicked voices shout and scream but I pay it no mind. Fishing my cell from my pants pocket, I hit the flashlight and make my way back up to the main room. The club is dark except for the light of flashing cellphones. Raised, confusedvoices bounce around the otherwise quiet building, but it's Leo’s deep timbre that stands out. I grin at the clear panic in his voice.
Ignoring them, I head straight for the stage where I see Ocean’s silhouette standing stock still against the pole. When the light from my cellphone hits her eyes, I see the fear shining in them. A feeling of protectiveness surges through my veins, as I scoop her up into my arms in the next second. She squeaks in shock, her whole body tensing. Her palms slam down on my chest, pushing at me and trying to fight her way out of my grip.
“Stop it,” I growl. She freezes in my arms, and I swear I hear the loud thrum of her heartbeat.
“Nico?” she whispers.
“Yes,” I confirm, carrying her backstage and away from the assholes in the room.
She relaxes a little in my arms and that primal part of me roars to life. “What happened? The lights went out. I nearly fell off the stage.”
I grunt. It was a risk. Me cutting the power. She could have hurt herself. But even knowing that, I would do it all again. I couldn’t stand their eyes on her any longer. “Power went out,” is all I say.
“Oh.” She responds and even in the dark, I know she is chewing that pouty bottom lip.
Coming to a stop outside the changing room, I drop her to her feet, pushing her against the wall. The other dancers’ murmurs come from inside the room, but I ignore them and focus on the witch in front of me.
Her breath hitches, and in the near silence I hear the erratic beating of her heart. Leaning in, I run my nose up her cheek. “Get dressed,Tesoro, before I lose all my resolve and fuck you against the wall.” My voice is a whisper, a caress against her soft skin. I can’t help but dart my tongue out, licking a trail up the delicate skin of her neck and to her ear. She tenses, a smallwhimper leaving her lips. I grin. “Hmmm, you taste like my new favorite thing.” I’m not lying. She does. My mouth waters just imagining how good her pussy will taste on my tongue. My cock hardens and before I do actually fuck her in this hallway, I take a step back. Self-control. I have always possessed it. Ocean makes it slip and I need to start exerting it more where she is involved. “Go.” I say, my voice filled with pure lust.
I don’t have to ask twice. She wriggles out of my hold, scrambling down the hall and through the door.
I smirk.
I just lost a lot of money with that little stunt I pulled.
Worth it.
Chapter 10
Ocean
Moving into the changing room, I release a breath when I find it partially lit up by cellphones. The girls all chat excitedly amongst themselves as I step towards my locker and mull over all that has happened in the last ten minutes or so.
The power went out. Check.
