SinfullyWicked (4 page)

He was going to say no and tell her to leave.

“It’s either the club or being in one of the films,” she
said, desperate to convince him that she needed to do this. “I’m right for your
movies too. Aren’t I, Connor?”

He frowned.

Nikki wasn’t cowed. She’d survived her ex, all that bad
press and Mitch’s bitch secretary. “I am. So let’s say I do the film too, in
addition to the—”

“No,” Mitch interrupted. He grabbed her clothes from the
floor, her blouse from the sofa and shoved them at her.

The legs of her capris swung into her thighs. She kept her
hands behind her back. “I don’t want your check. I won’t take it.”

“I’m not offering it.” He took her arm, dropping her clothes
over it, then went to his desk and pulled out a small metal box. “How much are
your parents behind in their payments?”

“Why?”

“How. Much. Nikki?”

She started at the steel in his voice, then mumbled the
figure.

Mitch took a thick wad of cash from the box and came around
his desk to her.

“Whoa, hold it,” she said. “I don’t want that any more than
I did your check.”

“Your parents might.” He offered her the bills, all
hundreds. “And don’t worry, it’s an advance on your salary, not a gift. Take
it.”

Her hand shook badly enough for him to notice. Mitch folded
his fingers over hers, making certain she’d keep the cash. His grip was strong
and gentle. Tears stung her eyes, his kindness more than she was entitled to.

“I shouldn’t,” she said.

Ignoring her protest, he went to his desk, returning the
metal box to the drawer. “Stop by my secretary’s office on your way out. She’ll
have paperwork for you to complete and sign. Be at Wicked at six tonight. I’ll
have our manager show you what to do.”

He’d said those last words over his shoulder as he left the
room.

Connor regarded her with lingering arousal tainted by a
whole lot of caution.

Say something,
she ordered him and herself.

Neither of them spoke. There was too much baggage between
them for any normal conversation.

Connor followed his brother down the hall.

Alone once more, Nikki drew in a ragged breath, feeling
their loss immediately, pained by it. Was this how it would be between them
from now on? If so, she had no reason to expect better. Both of them should
have refused to see her. Mitch shouldn’t have offered her so much. She’d yet to
bring up or apologize for the past.

Facing the doorway where they’d exited, Nikki whispered, “I
know you don’t believe me, but I am so sorry. I’ve missed both of you so much.”

Chapter Three

With one shoulder propped against the doorjamb of Connor’s
office, Mitch waited for his brother. From the right, he heard the
rat-a-tat-tat of his secretary’s heels echoing down another hall, heading here.
Akira was really getting around today.

“Mitch,” she said, halting in the center of the room as
though she’d just noticed him.

On either side of her, black-and-white photos from Connor’s
films graced the walls. Stunningly beautiful close-ups of women’s mouths, eyes,
breasts, asses, legs and cunts. As artistic as they were erotic.

Akira didn’t seem to notice them at all, certainly not as
she had Nikki’s nudity. Mitch had caught her dismissive appraisal when she’d
delivered paperwork that hardly needed his immediate attention. A few hours
before, her jealousy might have intrigued him, now it annoyed. He wasn’t an
adolescent anymore, thrilled that the popular, pretty girls actually noticed or
wanted him, an event that hadn’t happened during his crappy high school years.
Now that he was well past that period, he didn’t need a hassle from another
woman today. Nikki working at Wicked was trouble enough.

“I shouldn’t have barged in during an audition,” Akira said,
catching his lousy mood. “I didn’t know Ms. Blaine was here for a job.”

Neither had he. Nikki had given Akira her name, insisting on
seeing him. The way a former lover would if he’d gotten her pregnant and she
was here to deliver the stunning news and pictures of their new baby.

“It won’t happen again,” Akira promised, taking a tentative
step toward him.

Before she got too close or friendly, behavior Mitch had
encouraged prior to Nikki’s arrival, he stopped her. “Ms. Blaine will be at
your desk in a few minutes. Don’t make her wait. She needs the required
paperwork. Make certain she has everything she should.”
Treat her with
respect.

Akira’s previous familiarity dissolved, replaced by her
impeccable professionalism, but there was hurt in her dark eyes.

Mitch wanted to ease it but didn’t have the strength. Seeing
Nikki again, fighting his feelings for her and losing had pretty much drained
all of his energy. A bottle of Johnnie Walker called to him. After he got
drunk, he’d sleep and probably dream of Nikki with her arms folded over her head,
her body naked and humbled, yet still taunting, just as she’d be tonight with
Wicked’s patrons.

Those men would be close enough to smell her skin and hair,
prudent enough not to touch her breasts, ass or cleft unless she left with one
of them after her shift. Then all bets would be off. She’d strip for the jerk
as she had for him and Connor, her nipples peaking under his intent gaze. She’d
stroke the long tips to entice him to lick her. Once his tongue had used that
part of her well, she’d fall to her knees, coaxing his cock into her mouth, or
she’d position herself on all fours, inviting him to take her from behind. He’d
plow into her with a right she’d given him, his shaft filling and stretching
her sheath, his balls smacking her ass with each of his impassioned thrusts.
Together they’d climax, fall asleep and wake to do it again and again just as
she had with the men at Ty’s parties because she’d been lonely.

Mitch had seen that endless yearning in her eyes, the need
for someone to want and comfort her, to —

“Yes, of course,” Akira murmured, breaking into his troubled
thoughts. She placed a manila envelope on Connor’s credenza that he could’ve
damn well gotten himself, then passed him at the doorway, not even glancing his
way.

Mitch couldn’t frown at his brother enough. “Would it have
killed you to be a little nicer?”

Connor sank into his black leather chair, a modern design
like his sleek glass-and-stainless-steel desk. Artsy rather than traditional.
To Mitch it looked like something out of the Starship Enterprise.

“She didn’t give me a chance,” Connor said, spinning a pen
on the furniture’s glass top. “You saw her. She walked past me without a word.
I didn’t even know she was in here with you.”

Mitch muttered, “I’m not talking about Akira.”

Connor spun his pen a little too quickly, sending it flying
across the desk to clatter on the black-and-white granite floor. He folded his
hands on his flat belly and leaned back in his chair. “I thought I behaved
remarkably well, considering.”

“That you’re a prick? Yeah, I agree. Good job.”

He stopped rocking and leaned up. “What did you think I’d
do? Offer Nikki a hug? Have you forgotten what she did?”

“Give it a rest. We were kids. Stupid kids. Shit happens.”

“Even to Nikki.” He sagged back into the leather. It squished
softly with his weight. “The difference is that you and I didn’t cause what
happened to her or make it worse like she did with us.”

Mitch muttered an oath, not wanting to revisit those days.
They still hurt too badly, the boy he used to be threatening to return with all
that angst and uncertainty. “She’s a fucking attorney. She shouldn’t be working
at the club.”

“Don’t worry. She won’t be.”

Not liking the sound of that, Mitch pushed away from the
jamb, heading for Connor’s desk. What did his twin have in mind? Having her
show up at the club tonight only to fire her before she got started?

Uh-uh. Even though Nikki’s actions had shaken Connor’s
confidence more than his, Mitch wouldn’t let his brother hurt her. He sensed
she regretted her actions but hadn’t been able to help herself or didn’t know
how to make things right. In those moments at school when Nikki hadn’t realized
he was watching, he’d seen her unhappiness, as deep as his own.

They’d all been so damn young, so insecure. She hadn’t
wanted to be bullied either, which caused her to do what she had. If he and
Connor had been in a similar position, they might have behaved the same. Hell,
none of them had been heroes, just screwed-up adolescents. Leaning against
Connor’s desk, he asked, “Meaning?”

“Do you really believe she’s going to show tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“You gave her more cash than she’d earn in six months at the
club and far more than she claimed to need. I saw how thick that wad of bills
was. She doesn’t even have to wait for a check to clear. Face it, Mitch. Nikki
got what she came for. And now we’re out a lot of funds.”

Mitch couldn’t believe it. His brother was worried about
money? How in the hell did that possibly matter when the prospect of Nikki
leaving again, them not being able to see, speak with, touch or smell her
should have tormented Connor as much as it did him? Not to mention how it
pissed Mitch off that he was falling for her all over again. And so fucking
easily. “I don’t believe that. Neither do you.”

The corners of Connor’s mouth went down, making him appear
more stricken than the badass SOB he was striving to be. Turning away, he faced
the window behind his desk. Stately brick buildings, ancient maples and massive
buckeye trees gave this part of the city a small town ambiance, uncomplicated,
welcoming, hiding all the tensions underneath. At least to the unobservant.

Connor’s resistance didn’t fool Mitch. Beneath his brother’s
callousness was longing as great as his.

“You want her to come back as much as I do,” Mitch said. “I
saw how you looked at Nikki while she was stripping.”

Connor gripped the arms of his chair, pushing back into it.
“I had to look at her. I’m the artistic director. It’s. My. Job.”

Mitch laughed. “Yeah, right. Poor guy.”

“She’s not coming back.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Connor said, facing Mitch. He spoke
with resignation, the same as when Nikki had abandoned them before. “No matter
what you want—”

“What we both want.”

Connor gave him a cynical smile. “She won’t be back tonight.
Count on it.”

Just outside the bank, Nikki worked her way through the
afternoon crowd, stopping beneath the awning of a flower shop. The welcomed
shade did little to relieve the soupy heat, but it was better than baking
beneath the sun and risking more freckles.

A bell tinkled as a young man left the shop, clutching a
bouquet of pink carnations and baby’s breath. The white satin ribbon wrapped
around the flowers held a card proclaiming
It’s a girl!

For reasons Nikki didn’t want to explore, she felt a surge
of tears coming on. If this guy was the baby’s father, she hoped he and the
child’s mother were crazy about their daughter, keeping her from harm while
allowing her to soar. At the very least, she hoped they’d always be proud of
her.

What am I going to say?

She clutched her cell phone but didn’t connect the call to
her parents to let them know she’d made the overdue mortgage payments and then
some, giving them breathing room until the middle of next year. Great news,
until they asked where she’d got the money.

Chewing the side of her thumb, Nikki considered a number of
explanations. She could tell them former friends owed her a staggering amount
of cash. Or she could say she won the lottery, just when she and her folks
needed it the most.

They’d never believe it. They’d ask too many questions,
their behavior growing increasingly suspicious and disappointed. She’d be
reduced to that teen she recalled too well, caught doing something she
shouldn’t. Like kissing Mitch and Connor in the garage while her parents were
at work. Letting both brothers feel her up. Stripping in Mitch’s office just
now. Loving how he and Connor continued to focus on her even when Ms. Bitch
arrived with those papers. The hunger in their eyes. Their masculine scents.
The primitive vibes they gave off, telling her that once she was within their
arms, there wouldn’t be any stopping them. They’d take and she’d give.

Nikki slumped against the store’s brick façade, not caring
if it ruined her silk blouse. Around her, people laughed and talked, horns
honked, the stench of exhaust mingled with the odors of too much humanity and
all she could think of was the enticing fragrance of leather and something
woodsy, the clean scent of lime and heady male musk. She pictured Mitch
imprisoning her wrists in one hand, keeping them above her head in full view of
everyone on this street, trapping her for his brother. Her mind saw Connor
tearing open her blouse, shoving the silk back so he could get at her breasts.

As a team they worked her bra’s front clasp, nudging the
cups aside until she was naked from the waist up, the muggy breeze caressing
her areolas, intensifying her partial nudity. In her fantasy, a crowd started
to gather, mainly young guys at first, then those in their thirties who were
equally curious as to what the brothers would do.

As the oldest, Mitch made the first move, licking her right
nipple. Connor claimed her left. Their tongues swirled around the firm peaks,
Mitch’s hand held hers tightly, giving her no chance to resist. She belonged to
them. They could do with her as they willed.

Her belly trembled as Connor’s fingers splayed on it,
heading for her cunt. Mitch didn’t allow his brother to take that carnal
journey alone. Together, they tugged on her capris and thong, forcing her
clothing to the tops of her thighs, baring her smooth slit to their touch.
Mitch drove two fingers inside her damp, tight opening. Connor stroked her
clit. The men watching erupted in applause.

Nikki held back an indecent moan, both in her daydream and
out here on the street. Good thing. The elderly women approaching the shop were
already eyeing her suspiciously as though they’d guessed what she’d be doing
tonight. Or they recognized her from the media feeds, her very public arrest in
Manhattan.

Unsettled and with no clue as to what she might say to her
parents, Nikki finally made the call. “Hey, it’s me,” she said to her mother’s
‘hello’. “I have good news.”

The woman inhaled sharply. “Oh, Nikki. You’ve spoken to Ty?”

And that would be good how? Her shoulders sagged. No matter
what Ty had done, how cruelly he’d used people, his wealth and pedigree were
what mattered to Nikki’s parents. Not the kind of man he was. He didn’t have a
bit of the talent, smarts and honor that Mitch and Connor had, still, to her
folks he was perfect. A member of the one percent in this country. What the
other ninety-nine percent should aspire to.

Taking one of the florist’s promotional brochures from its
stand, Nikki used it to fan herself. “No, Mom, this isn’t about Ty. It’s about
you and Dad.” She forced herself to sound happy. “I’ve made the back payments
on your house and enough to carry you until next June. I’ll take care of the
payments going forward so you and Dad—”

“Ty gave you the money?”

Jesus. “No, Mom. He’s in prison. He doesn’t have any money.”

“That will all be settled soon, I know. I can feel it.”

Uh-huh. “Anyway, you and Dad can relax. No one’s going to
take your house.”

“How did you manage this, Nikki? You’re not doing anything
wrong, are you?”

She recalled Connor taking her blouse, Mitch her bra, her
capris and thong dropping to her feet, her buck naked while they remained
clothed. It had been a long while since she’d done anything that felt so
deliciously right. “No, of course not. I—ah—there’s this settlement I forgot
about from my old job. It just came in. There’s enough for me to take care of
myself, you and Dad. Everything’s going to be okay from now on.”

Her mother didn’t comment. On the other end of the line,
Nikki heard metal clanging, a cabinet’s hinges squeaking, the sounds of dinner preparations.

“You really should talk to Ty,” her mother said at last.
“His mom and I spoke earlier this week. His attorneys are gearing up for his
next court appearance. You should testify. You know he didn’t mean to do what
he’s been accused of. He was under a lot of pressure with this awful economy.
Your dad and I understand. You have to make Ty’s other clients know what really
happened, not what those prosecutors keep saying.”