Trouble (17 page)

His breathing grew harsh and his fingertips brushed against her ears. His balls tightened in her hand and his cock twitched against her tongue. Samair lifted her head and stared at the man beneath her. Her gaze traveled up over his sculpted chest to meet dark eyes full of desire and tenderness.

Firm hands gripped her shoulders, urging her up his body until his hot breath floated over her skin a second before his soft lips brushed hers. She lay stretched out on top of him, their naked bodies pressed together, his cock hot and hard between them as he rolled her to her back.

He tangled his long fingers in her hair, turning her head and slanting his mouth over hers. His hips slipped into the cradle of her thighs and lust coiled low in her belly as they kissed, mouths opening, tongues searching, breath blending.

Valentine filled all of her senses, his flavor slightly musky, his scent that of a man. The strong muscles of his thighs flexed above her, and she pressed against him. His hands gripped her hips, rocking her against him and making her pussy throb in time with her pounding heart.

He moved his hips and his cock thrust home, filling her up and making stars explode behind her eyes. An ecstatic cry leapt from her lips as her inner walls clenched around him, milking him as he pumped slow and steady into her until a rough groan echoed in the room.

He buried his head in her neck, his body trembling above hers, while his warmth flooded her body.

Samair felt the soft press of a kiss on her forehead before the weight of his body shifted and she was snuggled into the curve of his body for the remainder of the night.

 

 

 

 

W
hat do you mean, you haven’t had sex yet?”

It was three days until Samair’s fashion show and Joey’s tiny apartment had turned into one big fitting room for the afternoon. And, as usual with a room full of women, talk had quickly turned to men and sex.

“What, you’ve never heard of dating?” Joey glared at Tara.

Joey was enjoying getting to know Mike. Since that first night a week ago when they’d sat up and talked, they’d been on three dates. Each of them fun, entertaining . . . and arousing. The time spent at the end of each date making out without getting off was starting to piss her off.

It messed with her head the way he looked at her like he wanted to eat her up. The heat they generated when together was stronger than anything she’d ever felt, yet he still held back. It was getting to the point where she was either going to jump him or walk away from him.

“I’ve heard of dating.” Tara looked up from the leather-and-chain-mail contraption in her hands. “I’ve just never experienced it.”

“That’s because you have no restraint,” Kelly said. “You don’t know how to say no on the first date.”

Tara bristled. “That’s not true. I’ve said no on the first date plenty of times. Then again, I’m usually saying no to a second date. If I’m interested enough for a second date, I’m interested enough for sex.” She gave a giggle and a shrug. “And if I want sex, too, why should I say no?”

“It’s worth it.”

Joey turned from her own pile of lingerie to Samair’s friend Ginger. “What’s worth it?”

“Waiting when you find the right guy. My man Jason made me wait a month when we first started seeing each other, but let me tell you, by the time I got that man naked, I was completely in love, and it was the best thing ever.” She smiled dreamily. “It still is.”

“Yeah, and when you first met Jason you weren’t even attracted to him!” Samair poked her old coworker in the ribs. “Beth had to talk you into seeing him again.”

“True.” The tattooed pixie nodded. “I was a little slow on the draw with him. It was that nice-guy thing, it threw me off balance a little.”

Samair threw an
I told you so
look at Joey, but said nothing. Joey really liked Mike, and it scared her. It was much easier to make her body available than her heart.

As much as they’d talked about Mike over and over, they rarely talked about Sammie’s love life. The devil inside Joey prodded, and the words jumped from her mouth. “What about you, Sammie? You’ve definitely got the bad boy of the group . . . How’s it going?”

“Bad boy?” Kelly said from her spot on the sofa.

“You have a new man, Samair?”

Tara planted her hands on her hips and glared. “You’ve been holding out on us? Spill it, girl. Who’s keeping you busy?”

Color flooded Sammie’s cheeks and Joey almost felt sorry for her. Almost. There were very few secrets in a group of dancers willing to strut around naked in front of each other, and since they were willing to strut in front of a bar full of people for Samair, a little give and take was a good thing for everyone.

“I’ve been having some fun with Val for a couple of weeks now.”

There was a moment of silence before everyone but Joey responded.

“Val?”

“Valentine Ward?”

“Who’s Val?” Ginger was the only one whose jaw wasn’t on the floor.

Samair held out a gladiator-style breastplate made from shiny black PVC for Ginger to slip into. “He’s the owner of Risqué, and we’re not dating, it’s just sex.”

“So that’s why you got asked to do this show at the club. Sweet.”

“Fuck that!” Joey glared at Tara. “That’s not why she got asked to do the show. She got asked because what she does is freakin’ fantastic.”

Sometimes women were such bitches to each other. She knew Tara was all pissy because she and Rob were fighting, but Joey wasn’t going to let her be a hag to Sammie.

It seemed like Ginger felt the same way because she turned to model the outfit Sammie had just finished buckling up and openly challenged the group. “Look at this outfit and tell me Samair doesn’t deserve this show based solely on her talent. This shit isn’t exactly run-of-the-mill, you know.”

“It’s beautiful.” Kelly stood and hugged Samair. “She looks like the perfect sex fantasy version of Xena. You totally deserve this show. What I really want to know is . . . how kinky is Val?”

Tara’s head popped up through the sweatshirt she was pulling back on. “I want to know . . . how
big
is Val?”

Laughter echoed through the room and the tension was broken. Sammie blushed and said Val wasn’t that kinky at all. “Just potent.” She fanned her flushed face.

“I’m telling you all, it’s the quiet nice guys that are the closet kinks.” Ginger pointed to Joey and the leather corset she’d just finished buckling up. “I’ll bet money that if you wear that for that new
nice
guy you’re dating, your waiting will be over.”

Joey walked over to the mirror and glanced at herself. The corset curved over her hips, cinched her waist with adjustable buckles, and pushed her small breasts together and up into an amazing cleavage.

“Wow.” She sighed, running her hands over her torso. She was getting turned on just looking at herself. She swiveled and checked out the backside. With the hourglass look even the basic black leather thong Sammie had given all the girls looked good.

Sammie met her eyes in the mirror and nodded. “I made that one specifically to your measurements. It’s yours, Joey, all I ask is that you model it at the show.”

A squeal of joy jumped from her lips and she danced around. “Woo hoo, I’m gonna get some action.” Mike wasn’t going to know what hit him.

Plans started to form in her mind and she ignored Tara’s whiny voice. “She gets to keep it? What if someone wants to buy it?”

Before Sammie could answer, the buzzer went off announcing that the guys had arrived. Rob and Jason—dancer Jason, not Ginger’s man Jason—had agreed to model for the show as well. She pushed the button that let them into the building and the phone rang. Jeez, everything always happened at once.

She grabbed the phone off the kitchen counter and opened the apartment door a crack so the boys could just walk in. “Hello?”

“Is this Joey Kent, please?”

“This is her.” Joey’s stomach clenched. She knew that voice already. She’d been waiting for this call. Praying for it.

“Joey, this is Carl Raisen. You did great at the first audition yesterday and I’d like to make an appointment for you to dance for me again. It’s between you and two other girls and I’ll see each of you individually this time. I have business out of town this weekend but will be back to booking talent for the video next week. Can you make it in on Monday afternoon?”

Blood rushed to her head and she had to squeeze her eyes shut to stay calm. “Of course, I’d love to.”

Carl rattled off a time and an address and they said good-bye. When she opened her eyes and hung up the phone, everyone was staring at her. “I got through! I have a final audition for the music video on Monday!”

Strong arms grabbed her from behind and Rob spun her around while everyone cheered. She laughed and chatted with everyone, the room getting smaller and smaller as it filled with people.

“Before we go any further, now that everyone is here, I have something to say.” Sammie’s voice reached above the chaos. Everyone quieted down and she continued.

“I just wanted to say that I really appreciate all of you agreeing to model for me, especially since I can’t pay any of you. So instead of cash payment, I want to give each of you an outfit of your choice. You can pick whichever one you want, and for the dancers, if the lingerie isn’t your thing, I can make you a costume that will suit you.”

Joey watched her friends cheer and cluster around Sammie for hugs and giggles and her heart swelled. It was a good day, and yet all she could think about was the night to come. Picking up the phone again, she went into the bathroom for some privacy.

The number she dialed was embedded in her memory.

“Hey, baby,” she said into the phone when Mike’s voice-mail came on. “I know you’re at work, and that we have plans for later tonight, but I just had to call and tell you I was thinking of you.”

 

 

 

 

T
he music was loud and throbbing, the lights were dim, and the place was filling up. Samair stood at the railing on the top landing looking down on the lower floor of Risqué and pressed a hand to her stomach to still the flutter there.

Heat blanketed her back and warm hands cupped her shoulders. “It’s going to be fine.” Val kissed the nape of her neck.

“Is that a promise?” she asked without looking at him.

“The show doesn’t start for another hour and already we’re almost full. The bachelor room
is
full. Everyone is in a good mood; your models are in the office having a grand ol’ time. Don’t worry.”

The last few days had flown by without a chance for she and Val to be alone together. She’d pulled several allnighters sewing and putting together the half-dozen new designs that were the features of the Fetish and Fantasy show. She’d whipped up several of her other more basic designs as well. The softer, sexier camisoles and lace teddies would help round out the fantasy aspect of the show.

She’d even put together a couple of feathered masks and made a nurse’s uniform out of white netting and a few strategically placed scraps of white leather.

The models had been coached so that once the stage and runway part of the show was over, they’d go out into the crowd and chat people up, and sell, sell, sell.

Samair turned, resting her back against the railing and facing Val. Just being near him was calming her nerves. “Thanks for offering the models some incentive. I appreciate it.”

“A few bar tabs isn’t much to me. It’s the least I could do for you.” He kissed her forehead.

The least he could do?
Samair remembered the fully loaded catering tables in the bachelor room and the flyers plastered all over town. She’d even heard the show promoted on a local radio station that afternoon. He’d done so much already.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him. “Why are you doing all this?”

“What do you mean?” His expression never changed. He still looked calm, cool, and collected, but Samair’s radar hummed.

“What’s in this for you? I mean, you were fucking me before, so it’s not sex, and it’s not like Risqué needs more business. So what do you get out of putting so much into this?”

Their eyes met and the silence grew.

“Money,” he said finally. “Money is what I get. An event like this, where I can charge a lot at the door and I don’t have to pay you, or the models, brings a lot of money into the club.”

“I don’t get it.” Samair shook her head. Unable to not touch him, she reached out and rested a hand on his tense biceps. “If it’s just about making some money and getting exposure for the club, why didn’t you tell me that when I asked you the first time?”

“Sam! You look great, sis. Are you nervous?”

His timing sucked, but Samair was delighted to hear her brother’s voice, just the same. She stepped around Val and greeted Brett with a hug. “Nervous, anxious, nauseated, all of the above. Thank you so much for coming!”

“Of course I came. I was planning to come to see what you’ve been up to anyway—the flyers have been all over the place—so the fact that I can actually help out is a bonus.” Brett let her go and held out his hand to Val. “Brett Jones, Sam’s brother.”

Samair stepped in to finish the introductions. “This is Valentine Ward, Brett. The owner of the nightclub, and my friend.”

Val’s eyes widened slightly at the introduction, but then he smiled and some of the tension eased from him visibly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brett. Samair tells me you’re quite the hockey player.”

The men started to talk hockey and Samair tuned them out. Val was looking very sexy in his tux, and his presence was exciting, yet comforting. It was nice to have Brett there, too. She’d called Cherish and her parents and told them about the show as well, but the complete lack of interest and understanding in their voices had kept her from actually inviting them.