Mayhem: A Twisted Hearts Love Story Book 2 Page 9

  I can’t help but glance at him as he takes off his robe. It should be illegal for a man to be that sculpted! Does he work out all the time? Does he bother to eat? Here I am with all my imperfections, like my stretch marks and the small pouch on my stomach that, no matter how hard I work, never seems to go away. I could go on and on. Every movement he makes, his muscles flex in all the right places. He catches me staring and I turn away quickly. Damn, I was busted! My cheeks begin to warm.

  Two masseuses enter the room. After turning on soft music, they ask us individually which massage oil scent we would like to use. I chose lavender. He chooses a spice-scented oil. My masseuse pours the warm oil on my back and begins my massage. I feel her taking note of my tension spots.

  “You have a lot of kinks in your muscles. Would you like a deep tissue massage instead?”

  I’ve no idea what that is, and I don’t want to seem like an idiot, so I nod yes. As she begins my deep tissue massage, I begin to think the real name is torture. Ow, ow, ow! She works hard on my kinks while my mind drifts back to Lise. Does he collect damsels in distress or something? Why was she looking at him like she could put him in between two buns with a glass of water on the side for lunch? My mind drifts from curiosity to being pissed off, I suddenly realize the room is quiet. Opening my eyes, I see my masseuse and Dante staring at me.

  “Wh-what? Is there something wrong?” I begin to wonder if I have something on my face. I wipe around my face to make sure and look at my hand. No, nothing there, so why are they staring at me?

  “Maxine asked you a question. She asked a few times and you didn’t answer.” He slowly pronounces every syllable. I am tempted to scream out that I am not deaf, but then I see the apprehensive look in his eyes and I feel like an ass.

  “Oh. Sorry. What was the question?” I feel the heated flush on my cheeks. My jealous mind was running rampant and I zoned out.

  Dante sits up. “Ladies, can you give me and my girl a minute?” The two masseuses exit the room quickly. “Are you okay?”

  I sit up, gathering the towel on the table around me. “Yes, of course.” I have to concentrate to say that much because his stare is intense.

  “You seemed upset before and even more so now. Want to talk about it?” He folds his arms across his broad chest. My eyes focus on the bulging muscles in his arms.

  So he did realize I was upset before. I feel like an idiot. He isn’t my boyfriend or anything to me. I worked myself into a frenzy and now I don’t know how to explain it without seeming like a fool. “I’m fine.” Staring down, I pick imaginary lint from my towel. Oh please, let’s talk about something else. We can discuss the Knicks and their horrible season or perhaps, does anyone really know what happened at Area 51? Anything would be better than talking about this.

  His eyes narrow as he rubs the back of his neck. “I’m calling bullshit.”

  There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him what was bothering me. I stand quickly and grab my robe with trembling hands. “Whatever. I’m ready to leave.”

  He moves swiftly to stand in front of me, blocking me from exiting the room. “There’s nothing, and has never been anything, between Lise and me. I did her a solid once and that was all. It was a favor for a friend.”

  Relief settles over me, but I still feel insecure. “Why not? She’s beautiful. Geez, if I was into women, I would do her!” My words come out in a rush. I decide it’s easier to concentrate on the tile patterns on the floor, than to have this conversation.

  All of my past insecurities have come to the surface for me again. Growing up, I was always labeled as either cute or beautiful. I never felt either of those things, especially when I met my ex-husband. He would repeatedly tell me how unattractive I was, how he didn’t think I was beautiful. I actually believed I was lucky to have him. After I had Lelia, the changes in my body disgusted him. I pushed all my insecurities to the back of my mind after he left. There was no time to worry about myself when I had to worry about Lelia. But now, at this spa, seeing Lise, I wonder what Dante sees in me when he’s obviously surrounded by women who look like her.

  I pace the room back and forth and I nibble on my thumbnail, my heart pounding in my chest. Every now and then, I peer at the door Dante is still standing in front of. His expression is one of concern, and I can’t blame him. I probably appear similar to a caged animal at this point.

  “Dante, I really just don’t understand…” I stop my pacing and try to gather my thoughts.

  Risking a glance at him, I see he is waiting patiently for me to finish my sentence. I take in a couple of deep breaths before I begin again.

  “I know I strip for a living, but that’s just a way to make money. I’ve never felt anything but ordinary. When I take my clothes off for the customers, they’re not people to me. They’re just a way that I earn. I see Lise and you, and I wonder what you’re doing here with me. I work at a second-rate strip club and waitress on the side to make ends meet. We are worlds apart.” My cheeks flush as I go back to staring at the tiles on the floor. There I said it. It’s my truth and I own it.

  The soothing music that is playing becomes the backdrop to my internal conflict. I clasp my clammy hands together and continue my quest of counting the tiles. I hear his footsteps approaching me, and suddenly I feel his large hands covering mine, pulling them apart gently. He unties my robe and lets it fall to the ground. As the soft fabric hits the ground, goose bumps cover my body. I’m standing in front of him in just my panties. This is the first time I’ve felt self-conscious by my lack of clothes. His body is perfection, and mine is… well, mine is not perfection.

  Gently pushing me against the wall, he bends to whisper in my ear. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. When you’re in a room, no other woman exists.”

  “But—” My breath hitches in my throat.

  “No buts.” His hand gently strokes in between my breast. “Your breasts…” Pausing for a second, he smiles into my neck. “Your breasts are luscious and make me want to take a bite.” Bending, he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks gently. A moan escapes my lips as I close my eyes and let my head rest on the wall. His skillful tongue moves down my breasts to my stomach and then to my bellybutton. “Your stomach is remarkable and begs for my attention.” I let out a shuddering breath as his tongue circles around my bellybutton. His expert hands grip my bottom, turning my legs to jelly. Reaching out a hand, I place it on his shoulder to steady myself, and I feel my heart beating faster. His fingers glide my panties to the floor, and I step out of them, putting myself on full display for him.

  Rising slowly, he takes a few steps away from me. His eyes soften as he stares at me—all of me. Normally, I would feel uncomfortable by this type of appraisal, but his eyes don’t show disgust at my imperfections. His eyes show appreciation for them. A slow smile spreads across his face as he strokes his chin, as if in thought. “Damn. You’re the definition of perfection.”

  I want to believe his words, I do but something holds me back from doing so. “Do you need glasses?” I mumble at my hands, which are once again clasped in front of me.

  “No. Do you?”

  My eyes flicker to meet his as he takes a few steps toward me. I instantly feel his body heat.

  “How else can I explain it to you?” His voice is low.

  He takes my hand into his and guides me across the room to a mirrored wall. Standing behind me, we both stare at my naked reflection in the mirror. I try to see what he means as I appraise myself. His hands stroke my breasts gently as they move down to my stomach. Shivers go through my body. “Do you see it now?”

  “I’m trying to,” I whisper the words. I clench my legs tighter to steady myself.

  Brushing my hair to the side, he licks my bare neck and a tremble ripples through my entire body. “If I can’t get you to see it, then I guess I’ll make you feel it instead.” His hands move down my soft flesh to find my wetness. I inhale deeply and my head falls to his shoulder. His finge
rs move in circular motions around my clit as my temperature rises, and I press myself deeper into him, spreading my legs wider for him. “I’m going to give you the release that you need for now. But I won’t fuck you today.”

  His words snap me back into coherency as I blink back the fog that surrounded me only moments ago. “Wh-what?” Two of his fingers slide in and out of my opening, gradually building up a rhythm.

  “My first time fucking you won’t be in a spa. It’s going to be in my bed with you riding my dick hard and fast. You feel me?” As he speaks, his fingers never stop their penetrating motions in my slick opening. It’s hard to concentrate fully on his words as he bring me closer and closer to the release he promised me.

  “Bu-But…. Oh, God… but what about you?” I feel greedy, even as I ask the question. I do want this release. I deserve it. This burn has been building inside me since I met him. A burn I didn’t know existed for me anymore.

  “My pleasure comes from giving you pleasure. Our relationship is simple. I give and you take.”

  Relationship? Did he say relationship? The fog descends around my brain again. “Y-you hardly know me.”

  “I know you. Knew you when I saw you in the alley that day. You’ve been mine since that day. Not letting you go.” I stare into his eyes through the mirror’s reflection and I’m frozen. Not by his words, but by the intensity of his stare.

  A soft knock on the door breaks us out of our reverie. “We should let them in.” My words come out in a breathy whisper.

  “Fuck them. Gonna finish you off.”

  His fingers find my special spot and I let out a loud moan. The knock sounds again. God, can they go away?

  “You near, baby? I wanna feel your juices dripping down my fingers.”

  His words echo through my body as I climax. Oh my God, if he can make me feel like this with just his fingers, I close my eyes at the thought of what he would do in the bedroom. The intensity of my orgasm weakens my limbs and I go limp in his arms. He picks me up without effort and lays me on the massage table. My body, slick from sweat, shudders from the missing the warmth of his body. He picks up the towel and wraps it around me.

  “Gonna always take care of you.” He kisses me intensely as the knocks persist. Letting out an “Ugh,” he turns to the door.

  His annoyance is clear as he yanks it open, startling the two masseuses. “Yeah?” His voice is full of authority.

  “Umm… s-sorry. We can come back.” Maxine stumbles out her words. I would normally feel bad for her but I am still caught in my own blissful state.

  “My lady and I need a few more minutes.” He slams the door in their faces without waiting for a response. For the next hour, Dante becomes my very own private pamperist as he gives me a full body massage with his proficient fingers.

  Later that day, we leave the spa after barely using any of their services because Dante wanted to do everything for me himself. And I cannot lie, I loved every minute of his attention. It’s been too long since anyone has done anything for me without asking for something in return. I felt cared for and I never want that feeling to leave me again. He makes me want to lay in his strong arms and let him slay my dragons. He drives me back to my apartment, so I can get ready for my shift at the strip club. Sitting in his car in front of my building, my hand flutters to my neck. I enjoyed our first date more than I anticipated, and I don’t want it to end.

  “Skip work tonight. Come home with me instead.”

  For a second, I’m about to say yes, but then the reality of my situation hits me. Lelia, my debt, rent, and suddenly, my burdens, have weighted down my shoulders. “I can’t. Got bills to pay. Can’t pay them if I don’t work.”

  “If it’s money you need, I got that.”

  “No, I pay my own way, Dante. There’s so much about me that you don’t know. My life is…” I don’t know how to explain all the complications that make up my life. “Let’s just say, we need to sit and talk.” At that very moment, I make the decision to try to let him into my world. I will give him a glimpse of what makes up my life and if he chooses to leave, then so be it. At least my heart isn’t fully invested. But not now. I don’t have the time and I want to hold on to this fairytale a little longer.

  “What, you got a man or something?” Anger flashes in his eyes.

  My head jerks up because I’m taken aback by his comment. “No. Not that at all. It’s just that—”

  “Then the rest we’ll figure out, okay? I’ll work on trying not to crowd you too much. But, don’t even think of walking out of my life again.”

  “I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.” My body has surrendered to my words. I feel it. What he has done for me today has given me hope for the chance of being happy. His jaw, which was tense only moments ago, relaxes as he pulls me in for a kiss. Glancing at the clock on his dashboard, I realize I’m running late for work. Gently, I pull away from his embrace. “Have to go.” My heart aches to stay with him, be near him. But my responsibilities that are always looming over my head prevail.

  “Not sure if I should say have a good night at work when you’re going to a strip club.” This large imposing man can be so sweet like a puppy at times. How does he do that, turn it on and off. He gives me a small smile. I laugh at his comment, give him a quick kiss on the cheek, and hop out of the car.

  I shower quickly and change for work. An hour and a half later, I’m in the dressing room of the strip club. I’m friendly enough with most of the girls who work at the club. Some of them I’d even consider a friend. The dressing room empties out as I finish applying my makeup. In my vanity mirror’s reflection, I see Wheeler standing by the door, staring at me. I jump and turn around as he closes the door behind him and locks it.

  “Wheeler, w-what’re you doing here?” My eyes jerk from him to the lock on the door.

  “Figure I’d give you a little visit.” He takes a seat on a stool next to the door. Wheeler is a small man that I always thought had a Napoleon complex. My mother had this term to describe my father that I think fits Wheeler…Meaner than a rattlesnake.

  This room, which usually accommodates ten of us girls and our wardrobe changes, suddenly feels closed in with just the two of us. The hum of the heater vibrates through the room, but yet a cold chill goes down my spine. “I have to begin my routine.” My eyes remain focused on the doorknob, as if it could suddenly transport me out of here.

  “It can wait. We need to have us a little chat.” He says this with such ease, as if he was talking about the weather.

  This isn’t good. My stomach does a flip and I pray that I don’t throw up. Leaning against my dressing table partly for support, I reach my hand behind me to grope for anything that I can use as a weapon in case I should need it.

  “So you and Tick are a thing?” There is a hint of something in his voice. I’ve heard this tone before. It is a fight to control himself from the rage that is bubbling.

  Shaking with fear, I attempt to steel my nerves and swallow hard before responding to him. “What does that have to do with anything?” This is the closest to back talking I’ve ever gotten with him.

  He stands suddenly, knocking the stool to the ground in a loud thud that echoes through the room. With his teeth bared, he stalks closer to me. “Anything you do has a lot to do with me. You owe me money, so I own you.”

  I cringe and tremble at his words. “I barely know Dante.” That’s sort of the truth.

  “Bullshit! I saw the two of you in his car earlier in front of your building.”

  He was watching us? Why would he be following us? Fear grips me tighter as the muscles in my legs seem to weaken, and I fight to stay upright. “What do you want?” I barely hear the words coming out of my mouth.

  He glares angrily at me, and I feel small and defenseless. As he comes even closer, I shrink further, my back pressing into my vanity table. His hand reaches out and squeezes my face. I want to scream out in pain, but I fear if I do so, it’ll anger him more. Pressing his nose to
mine, he growls, “Might be calling on you for a favor soon. You won’t say no. You’ll always keep in mind that I own you. You want to keep that pretty face of yours? Then you’ll make sure I’m kept happy!” He shoves me hard, and I knock over bottles on the table, which come crashing down on the floor around my feet. We both stare at the broken glass on the floor. Lifting his eyes from the wreckage, he gives me a maniacal grin and punches me in the stomach. Collapsing on the ground, I gasp for air as Wheeler turns and leaves the room. As I lay on the floor, trying to catch my breath, my cell phone rings. I crawl slowly to where I’ve left it. The caller ID shows the hospital calling. How did such a beautiful day turn to shit?

  Chapter 13

  Must Be Nice ~ Lyfe Jennings

  Tick

  It’s only been a few hours since Cyma’s juices were dripping off my fingers and I want a taste of her again. I want to drink her in like a thirsty man. It’s a busy night at the club as usual, and I’m working the downstairs. Magnum is following up on some info about El Diablo’s dealings with Wheeler and Jay. Manny… well, Manny is probably screwing some girl in the back somewhere. One of the girls who is working the bar slides over my drink of choice. I didn’t order it, so I quirk my eyebrow at her.

  Shrugging, she wipes the bar down. “Thought you needed one.” Damned if she isn’t right.

  I spot Tals across the room. We’ve drawn our battlefield lines and are keeping our distance. I glance at my watch and a pang hits my gut—I miss Cyma. Taking out my cell phone, I call Manny.

  “This better be good.”

  I laugh at his mood. “What, interrupting you getting your dick sucked?”

  There’s muffle sounds over the phone, and then he’s back on the line. “None of your business.”

  “Come out on the floor and get to work, asshole. I’m leaving for the night.”