Bound by Her (4 page)

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Authors: Danielle Fox

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction

BOOK: Bound by Her
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I wasn’t going to do this. If Emily didn’t want to talk to me about what had upset her then I wouldn’t let it bother me. I wouldn’t keep torturing myself over something when I had no idea what that something was. That wasn’t the way I did things. Women didn’t get into my head; they didn’t have the power to fuck with my emotions. Even though Emily was the one exception to this rule of mine, I wasn’t going to admit it. To myself, or to anyone else.

“Nothing that won’t keep.” I shrugged as an intentionally cocky smile touched my lips.

I knew in my heart that my predicament with Emily wouldn’t keep, or at least it shouldn’t, but my defensive barriers were up, and they were up high with a force. She wasn’t going to hurt me, I wouldn’t allow it. No woman had ever hurt me before – I’d never let one get close enough to even stand a chance - and I’d be damned if I was going to let one now. No, I would go for a much needed drink with my friend and I would deal with Emily later.

“Where are we going?” Ryan asked as he pulled his seat belt across his perfectly pressed black suit, tugging at the bottom of his jacket in a desperate attempt not to crease its perfection.

“What are you grinning at?” he asked as I watched him through the corner of my eye. I hadn’t realised I was grinning.

“You, you ponce! Stop faffing with your bloody jacket and drive, would you?”

“Piss off. You haven’t told me where we’re going!”

“You know where.” My eyes dropped to my feet as my head hung in shame. I knew I shouldn’t be going there but, as usual I was feeling defensive. And how did I respond to a threat? I fought against it with everything I had. That was just my way. And I didn’t seem to give a fuck about who may get hurt along the way.

Ryan’s eyes narrowed as he seemingly studied my expression. “What’s up? Why do you want to go there?” he asked, his shoulders slumping with a deflating sigh as he sank lower into his seat. It didn’t look as if he was keen on driving us to my chosen location.

“Nothing’s up. I want a drink in privacy and I’ve got some paperwork I need to give to Lucy.”

“Is that all? Really?”

“Yes, that’s all,” I lied.

Of course, I shouldn’t be going to Allure, but what was more, I certainly shouldn’t be insisting on Ryan’s company there. He was my sister’s boyfriend for fuck’s sake, what was I doing?

Allure was another one of my clubs. Except this one wasn’t your ordinary club. I suppose it would technically be labelled as a strip club, just with a lot more class than most, in my opinion. It wasn’t open in the daylight hours but I knew the staff would be there, the dancers spent the afternoon rehearsing their moves whilst the bar staff prepared the club for its heavy influx of visitors in the later hours. I didn’t usually visit here unless I felt the need to get stupidly pissed and behave like a pervert for the entirety of the evening. I felt this need now. I shouldn’t, but I did. What I should have been doing was sitting by Emily’s side and refusing to leave until she gave me an explanation of what the fuck had happened earlier, why the fuck she had suddenly turned so cold, but grovelling wasn’t something I had ever had to do and my male pride simply wouldn’t allow me to start now. No matter how much I loved the woman. If she couldn’t be mature enough to voice her feelings, then I wasn’t going to be mature enough to attempt to put them straight. In my head, it really was that simple.

Ryan and I had spent many late nights at Allure in the past, before he decided to shack up with my sister. With the two of us always dressed in our best suits, and the way we used to behave like we owned the place, it had never taken the dancers long to come to the conclusion that I was the boss. And with that, the offers of private dances came thick and fast, each and every one of them desperate to impress me with their moves, and as soon as I flashed a bit of cash - at the bar or stuffing tips in their underwear - along came a guaranteed shag. Every time, without fail. It didn’t take much for these girls to drop their knickers, a simple effort of flashing my most dazzling smile and they were mine. Usually I wouldn’t even have the pleasure of enjoying a full private dance before the performing girls’ legs were wrapped around my waist as her ridiculously over-the-top false nails tore at my clothes.

My mood instantly saddened when flashes of various evenings at Allure, when we had forced Jason to tag along, invaded my thoughts. Many of times, the three of us had drunk beer and shots until the early hours and behaved like a bunch of teenagers. Pissed up and obnoxiously loud. Mind you, not once had I ever seen Jason watching the dancers the way Ryan and I had and, at the time, I couldn’t understand it. He had told me he was entirely committed to his wife and kids and that he simply didn’t see other women in a sexual way anymore. Bullshit, if you ask me, but who knows, maybe it was possible. I was sure I was about to find out.

“Hey, stranger! What brings you here?” Lucy beamed her magnificent smile at me as I walked into the bar.

“Just got some accounts for you,” I said, sliding a white A4 envelope towards her across the glass bar.

“Thanks. Can I get you both a drink as you’re here?”

“Please, the usual.” I winked and flashed her a lopsided grin and her cheeks blushed in response.
Just like Emily
, I thought, before forcing her back into the corner of my mind.

Lucy was a stunning woman. Her long dark hair fell down her back and ended at her tiny waist and was as straight as a poker. Her face resembled one of a Mediterranean heritage, although I had never even bothered to ask anything of her origin. Her dark, rounded eyes sat in a perfect face made up of high, defined cheek bones and full, voluptuous ruby red lips that looked as incredible as they felt - in my experience. But I wasn’t here for her - or for that. I was here to get some distance, to sort my head out and at least try to figure out how to behave like a normal boyfriend. Even if I failed, at least I had tried - right?

Six large, empty scotch glasses later, Ryan examined me as he sat opposite me in the small, comfortable booth. I tore my focus away from his scrutinising glare and held my empty glass in the air as an order to Lucy to bring me another. God, I really was an arrogant prick!

My attention was caught by a young girl who was swinging her entire frail looking body around the slim, silver pole in the middle of one of the dancing podiums. She couldn’t have been any older than twenty-two, maybe twenty-three. Her intense stare never left my eyes as she moved graciously around the pole, her slender arms holding her weight in positions I would never have thought possible. Dressed only in a red laced bra with a matching thong that barely covered her modesty, she swung her legs high as her hands gripped tightly at the sparkling steel, before opening them wide into a fully split position and holding her pose while she invited me with her eyes. I readjusted myself in my trousers beneath the table as the evidence of my arousal pressed uncomfortably against the seam of my fly just before Ryan’s voice snapped me back to the here and now.

“Lose the fucking look, Julian. You’re engaged to be married, or had you completely forgotten that detail?” Ryan’s tone was stern and unwavering, but his eyes didn’t meet mine, his focus remained on the glass he was vacantly spinning around on the table.

I had been doing a grand job of forcing Emily from my thoughts for the past half an hour. Not anymore, I guess. Ryan seemed strangely protective of Emily, I wondered why.

“What has it got to do with you, exactly?” I snapped as I felt my fist clench involuntarily.

“Nothing at all, but you’ll regret this in the morning. Or whenever it is that you sober the fuck up!” He was glaring at me now, his slightly squinted eyes barely readable through their narrowed appearance.

“Fuck off, Ryan. I don’t need a babysitter! I make my own decisions!”

“I’m aware of that, Julian. That’s just your problem; you don’t listen when people are trying to help you. Your decisions aren’t always the best ones.”

“I don’t need your fucking help!”

Who the fuck did he think he was, Mr. High and Mighty. No, I had never asked a single person for any help in all of my life, and no, I also wasn’t in need of any. What the fuck? Why was he all defensive all of a sudden, anyway? He had witnessed me behaving like a tart on many of occasions; it had never bothered him before now. What was it about Emily that made him feel the need to protect her?

“Why do you care so much about Emily?”

“I don’t,” he replied simply before drawing a long sip of water from his glass.

“You’re a fucking liar!’ I snarled through gritted teeth, my jaw aching under its sudden pressure. “Come on, what is it? You fancy her, is that it?” I leaned across the table toward him, using my elbows for support, taunting him with everything I had.

“Don’t be fucking stupid, Julian. And don’t speak to me like that. I’m not one of your whores!”

“Why? Come on, I want to know why you’re so desperate to protect
my
fiancée,” I sneered, emphasising the word ‘my’.

“I’m not trying to protect
her
, Julian. If you opened your fucking eyes for once in your life you’d see that it’s you who I’m trying to protect.”

“I’m not asking for your protection. I can look after myself.” Ryan simply shook his head and blinked slowly.

A sudden movement caught my attention from across the dance floor and I turned and refocused on the nearly naked girl, forgetting entirely what I had just been shouting at Ryan about. As she slipped down the pole, landing elegantly on her feet at the bottom, I locked my gaze on her eyes and flashed my most dazzling smile. Her thin lips quirked up in response. She lifted herself up again using only her hands, her eyes never leaving mine, and I knew instantly that I could have her. And judging by the position in which she was now hovering in - it could be quite good fun.

“And how do you intend on doing that, Julian? By destroying the one and only good thing that’s ever happened to you? Last night you were willing to give your life for her and tonight you’re creeping around a fucking stripper? What’s going on?”

Oh yeah, Ryan.

“She doesn’t want to know me anymore, Ryan. She’s gone home, she doesn’t want to see me,” I said matter-of-factly without turning to look at him.

I downed the remainder of scotch and held up my empty glass again. Lucy quickly approached with a freshly filled glass and I downed that in one long draw and passed it back to her.

“Another, please,” I ordered.

My head dizzied as I stood. I walked closely beside the metal rail that surrounded the dance floor as I made my way towards the podium where the young girl was still watching me, her eyes wide and inviting.

“You fancy trying some of those moves in there?” I asked as I leaned lazily on the barrier - the only thing that separated me from her fine body – and pointed my chin towards the closest private booth.

“I can’t, not until later.” She spoke with a strong accent; English certainly wasn’t her primary language, but her voice revealed nothing of her strain as she slid effortlessly down the pole.

“Well, as I’m your boss, I’m saying you can.” I smiled a wide smile as I reached forwards and invited her hand to mine. She took it, cautiously, as she unravelled her leg from its peculiar position and stepped down towards me whilst her suggestive stare pinned me to the spot. As attractive as this young woman was, now I was standing in front of her, there wasn’t a single part of me that wanted her. The usual twist of my stomach didn’t come when I touched her hand. The usual pulsing between my legs didn’t come when I recognised the wanting in her eyes. What was wrong with me? There had been a time, not so long ago, when I would have taken this stripper into the office by now. Although, I would probably end up doing that anyway, just to prove to myself – and to everyone else who gave a shit – that I
could
. There was something quite liberating about seeing a beautiful woman’s desire for me. It made me feel powerful. It put me in control. Exactly where I wanted to be. I felt as though I was losing all control with Emily. I couldn’t control my emotions around her because I simply couldn’t understand them. But this woman standing in front of me now, I knew I could control, because I felt nothing for her. There was no spark, no electricity in our touch, no desire - from my part anyway, therefore I was the one with the power. I winked at her and she ducked under the rail to join me.

A raised female voice caught my attention. I recognised that voice. It couldn’t be hers, surely. Why would she be here? I turned to see Emily and Ryan locked in what looked like a heated debate.

Fuck! How did she know I was here? Here, of all places. My stomach twisted almost painfully as my gaze lingered on her flustered face. She was angry. Very angry.

“Fuck him; he can do what he wants!” I heard her shriek as I made my way towards her, completely ignoring the poor girl that lingered on the dance floor.

“Emily, what are you doing here?” I asked with a slight slur in my words.

“Interrupting something special by the looks of things,” she snarled. “Why the hell would you call me here?” She turned to Ryan as she threw her hands up, seemingly in despair.

“He’s had too much to drink, Emily, and he won’t listen to anyone but you.”

“It sure looked like he was listening to that slut! Why don’t you get back to her, Julian? Don’t let me stop you!”

No, no, no! What have I done? I didn’t want that girl, that much was clear to me now as I gazed into the most incredibly stunning eyes. Those very eyes that had been so vacant the last time I looked into them were now narrowed and heated, revealing nothing but sheer anger and...was that... hatred? She was incredibly sexy when she was angry, almost mesmerising. I couldn’t not look at her. As much as I knew I should be grovelling on my hands and knees right now, all I could think about was how I wanted to drag her to the nearest bathroom and claim her. Claim her as my own with the only way I knew how.

“I was just talking to her, Emily. Why would I want to go to her when you’re standing in front of me?” I was almost mumbling, my hazed brain struggling to make sense of my words before I actually spoke them.

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