don't wanna make an enemy of me," he growled. "Right now, I'm your only fuckin' friend, yeah?"
"Let me go," I ground out, staring daggers at the man. "This will all be on camera and Jaxon will kick your arse," I tried, unsure exactly where the security cameras actually were.
I'd never had to think of them before, my mind was constantly reminding me of what Jaxon could see now. In this instance, I did hope he was watching.
"Ballerina, I ain't that stupid."
Could have fooled me.
"Cameras don't reach in here," he added. I realised we were in a little alcove, an overhang to give you cover, if the weather was bad, while you unlocked the door. I tried not to let my fear show. But it was so close to the surface right now, I wasn't sure I pulled a look of nonchalance off.
And when Sala grinned, showing a row of crooked yellowed teeth, I was picking he'd seen every angst ridden emotion that crossed my face.
"Now, how 'bout we schedule a repeat performance. This time I wanna lap dance."
I never did lap dances, I just danced the pole. Except for Jaxon, I'd never strutted my stuff in a guy's crotch before. Sala knew this, he was just being a prize prick.
"How about this, Sala," I said, lifting my chin and holding his greasy stare. "You let me inside this fucking door before Jaxon figures out it's taken too long for me to appear since I exited my car. Wouldn't want him thinking you're harassing his girl, now would we?"
"Ballerina, he don't give no two fucks 'bout you spreading it 'round."
Bullshit. I cocked my hip, crossed my arms over my chest and raised an incredulous eyebrow.
Sala just laughed.
"Amber, he's 'bout to take over the world. All the pussy he wants will be fallin' at his feet."
It was stupid. I lived with the man. Had been his obsession for the past two years. And despite not wanting to have a thing to do with Jaxon Harding and this club ever again, I still felt the sting of Sala's words. Ridiculous.
"Whatever," I spat, turning around and pushing through the unlocked door.
Sala's loud laughter followed me, but thankfully the arsehole didn't.
By the time I reached the clubroom floor my emotions had tumbled out and almost drowned me. Confusion reigning supreme, but there was the ever present fear, angst and now a new vulnerability. Absently I played with the charm on the bracelet Ric had given me as the familiar atmosphere of Champagne & Chandeliers engulfed me.
It was too early for the business to be open, but that didn't mean it was empty. C&C Enterprises' offices were above and behind this space; employees from all departments cut through the clubroom when it was closed. And those tasked with readying the room itself for clientèle were hard at work behind the bar or up on the stage.
Jaxon was sitting on a stool talking to one of his lawyers. A guy named Derek Marks, dressed in a three thousand dollar suit and Ferragamo moccasins. The artificial lights glinted off the pure gold of his watch face as he lifted a hand to grasp his crystal decanter, probably full of ten thousand dollar Scotch.
"Baby," Jaxon purred, standing immediately and cutting the lawyer's words off without any care. He crossed the space between us, a once familiar beaming smile of appreciation gracing his lips.
For a second, an infinitesimal moment in time, I forgot what he was capable of. My heart only remembered the gentle care and focused attention he'd always given.
Then the image of him holding a gun to a man's head and grinning flashed through my mind.
When he enveloped me in an embrace I was trembling.
"Baby, are you cold?" he whispered, kissing up the side of my neck.
Jaxon had never been afraid of showing affection in public. A simple peck on the cheek would never do, he had to practically maul me. Lay claim, shout his possession to the world, while mentally banging fists against his chest like a caveman.
Sala was so full of shit. He'd never share me.
I'd already decided my best chance of defence was to play the "morning
"Let me go," I ground out, staring daggers at the man. "This will all be on camera and Jaxon will kick your arse," I tried, unsure exactly where the security cameras actually were.
I'd never had to think of them before, my mind was constantly reminding me of what Jaxon could see now. In this instance, I did hope he was watching.
"Ballerina, I ain't that stupid."
Could have fooled me.
"Cameras don't reach in here," he added. I realised we were in a little alcove, an overhang to give you cover, if the weather was bad, while you unlocked the door. I tried not to let my fear show. But it was so close to the surface right now, I wasn't sure I pulled a look of nonchalance off.
And when Sala grinned, showing a row of crooked yellowed teeth, I was picking he'd seen every angst ridden emotion that crossed my face.
"Now, how 'bout we schedule a repeat performance. This time I wanna lap dance."
I never did lap dances, I just danced the pole. Except for Jaxon, I'd never strutted my stuff in a guy's crotch before. Sala knew this, he was just being a prize prick.
"How about this, Sala," I said, lifting my chin and holding his greasy stare. "You let me inside this fucking door before Jaxon figures out it's taken too long for me to appear since I exited my car. Wouldn't want him thinking you're harassing his girl, now would we?"
"Ballerina, he don't give no two fucks 'bout you spreading it 'round."
Bullshit. I cocked my hip, crossed my arms over my chest and raised an incredulous eyebrow.
Sala just laughed.
"Amber, he's 'bout to take over the world. All the pussy he wants will be fallin' at his feet."
It was stupid. I lived with the man. Had been his obsession for the past two years. And despite not wanting to have a thing to do with Jaxon Harding and this club ever again, I still felt the sting of Sala's words. Ridiculous.
"Whatever," I spat, turning around and pushing through the unlocked door.
Sala's loud laughter followed me, but thankfully the arsehole didn't.
By the time I reached the clubroom floor my emotions had tumbled out and almost drowned me. Confusion reigning supreme, but there was the ever present fear, angst and now a new vulnerability. Absently I played with the charm on the bracelet Ric had given me as the familiar atmosphere of Champagne & Chandeliers engulfed me.
It was too early for the business to be open, but that didn't mean it was empty. C&C Enterprises' offices were above and behind this space; employees from all departments cut through the clubroom when it was closed. And those tasked with readying the room itself for clientèle were hard at work behind the bar or up on the stage.
Jaxon was sitting on a stool talking to one of his lawyers. A guy named Derek Marks, dressed in a three thousand dollar suit and Ferragamo moccasins. The artificial lights glinted off the pure gold of his watch face as he lifted a hand to grasp his crystal decanter, probably full of ten thousand dollar Scotch.
"Baby," Jaxon purred, standing immediately and cutting the lawyer's words off without any care. He crossed the space between us, a once familiar beaming smile of appreciation gracing his lips.
For a second, an infinitesimal moment in time, I forgot what he was capable of. My heart only remembered the gentle care and focused attention he'd always given.
Then the image of him holding a gun to a man's head and grinning flashed through my mind.
When he enveloped me in an embrace I was trembling.
"Baby, are you cold?" he whispered, kissing up the side of my neck.
Jaxon had never been afraid of showing affection in public. A simple peck on the cheek would never do, he had to practically maul me. Lay claim, shout his possession to the world, while mentally banging fists against his chest like a caveman.
Sala was so full of shit. He'd never share me.
I'd already decided my best chance of defence was to play the "morning
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