Vindicated (19 page)

She wanted to ask, but instead she slipped her hand over his and squeezed, hoping to encourage him.

“After a couple of years, I figured out I’d never get anywhere unless I had an education. Thing is, it takes money to go to school, and hell, I could barely even read. Jack’s uncle, David, offered me a job and a place to live as long as I went back for my GED. Said I was going to be dead before I reached twenty if I kept going on like I was.” His charcoal eyes flicked up to meet hers, their depths clouded.

“Looks like you proved him wrong,” she said. “You look pretty healthy to me.”

“Humph.” Randy’s snort said volumes about his opinion on the subject and the end of the topic.

An awkward silence stretched between them, she rubbed her palms across the tops of her thighs and spread her books across the coffee table. The last time he’d been in her apartment, she’d been an emotional basket case.

They stared at each other. An expression of enlightenment crossed his face. “Oh, I almost forgot. This is for you.” He shoved a hand into his pants pocket and withdrew a large fluorescent pink key ring. He held it out to her. She took it and frowned.

“Okay. Uh, thanks.” She turned it over in her hands. The ring was bigger than her palm.

“I thought of you when I saw this. It has a snap on the end so you can clip it on your backpack. You’re always looking for your keys, it seems.” Color flushed his cheeks. He shifted on his feet. “Is that lame?”

“No, it’s sweet. Thank you.” It was her turn to flush. He’d been thinking about her. The tension in his brow lifted, and he smiled. She beamed back at him. “So, what do you want to go over first?”

He settled beside her on the couch and opened his book. The vibration of her cell phone from its place on the coffee table jerked her into action. She reached to silence it but saw Josh’s name on the caller ID. They’d kept in contact with an occasional lunch or text message, but he’d never called her before. Thinking it might be important, she apologized to Randy for the interruption and answered the call.

“What’s new, pussycat?” Josh asked in his vibrant tenor with a hint of Louisiana drawl.

“Not much. Studying with a friend. What’s up with you?”

“I’ll get us something to drink,” Randy said, lifting a two-liter of Mountain Dew, her favorite drink, from the brown paper sack he’d brought with him. She watched his back as he walked to the kitchen with easy grace and tried not to ogle the way his jeans clung to the indentation of muscles on his rear end.

Josh’s voice dripped with innuendo. “Oh, very promising. Who’s sexy voice is that I hear in the background? Is it the caveman from the bar?”

“Yes,” she said, cupping the phone with her hand so Randy couldn’t hear.

“Girl, he is mackadocious. You need to get up on that before someone else does.”

“Mackadocious? Is that even a word?” she asked, biting back a snort of mirth. “Sometimes I think you make things up.”

“It’s a word, sweetheart. And your caveman’s picture is right beside it in the dictionary. Look it up.” She could picture the smirk on his perfect lips. “Well, I don’t want to interrupt your
studying
,” Josh said. “I just called to tell you there’s a bachelor party coming up this weekend and one of the dancers can’t make it. Twisted her ankle or something. Hell, I don’t know. Anyway, they’re looking for a fourth girl. I put your name out there. I figured you still needed the cash.”

Her stomach dipped in an unpleasant way, but she pushed the warning aside, tantalized by the idea of income. “Really? How much does it pay?”

“It’s five hundred for two hours plus tips,” he said.

She fell back on the couch, one hand raised to her lips in shock. “Five hundred?” she whispered. “Are you kidding me?”

“I wouldn’t kid about five hundred Simoleans,” he replied. “Easy money, pussy cat. And you should make at least that in tips.”

“Shut the front door,” Karly whispered. From the kitchen, Randy shot her a look over his shoulder. She smiled at him to ease his curiosity. He smiled back. Gosh, he was so hot when he smiled.

“Cheetah says she usually makes double that in tips for an air dance and maybe twice that if you do friction dances. It’s really up to you where you draw the line.”

“Friction dance?”

“Yeah, you know, a lap dance with grinding and whatnot. Haven’t you ever been to a strip club? Really, you’ve got to get out more.”

“Focus, Josh.”

“Right,” he continued, unfazed by her reprimand. “Most guys are happy with a pretty girl stripping in front of them. And you don’t have to get completely naked unless you want to. I guess these guys are mostly businessmen. Cheetah runs a classy deal, and she only works on referrals, so you don’t have to worry about any weirdness.”

Randy came back to the room with two frosty glasses and set them on the coffee table in front of her. She gave him a tight smile and tried to ignore the flush of heat in her cheeks. What would Randy think about Josh’s proposition? He cocked his head to one side, gray eyes studying her, as if intrigued by her expression. She looked quickly away before he could read her thoughts.

“Can I have a little time to think about it?” she asked.

“I really need to know now,” Josh said. “Not to rush you, pumpkin, but I told them I’d get back to them right away. These jobs are primo. Somebody else will jump on it. If you want it, you need to take it.”

Five hundred dollars was a lot of money, a fortune to someone in her situation. Enough to get her through a few more weeks if she planned carefully, and it would buy her a little time to continue her job search.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

Josh let out a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “You’ll be great. I’ll give Cheetah your number so you guys can work out the details. Wear that flirty little blue miniskirt of yours…the one with the pleats? And a white blouse with a necktie.” He paused for a second as if thinking. “And thigh-highs. You know, the naughty school-girl thing. Guys dig that.”

“Right. Okay. I can do that.” She swallowed hard. “Anything else?”

“Nope. Just come over so we can practice a bit before you go.” Josh’s voice held a smile. “And bring your caveman with you.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” she replied. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” She ended the call and looked up to find Randy watching her with narrowed eyes.

Chapter 38

They sat side by side on the sofa, thighs occasionally bumping as they poured over the shared study guide. Now and then his fingers brushed hers as they reached in unison to turn a page. The contact sent tingles of attraction up her arm. When compounded by the prospect of her new job, she found it hard to concentrate. If Randy noticed her distraction, he didn’t mention it, but kept his auburn head bowed to the study guide, stern brow furrowed in concentration as he struggled to get through the questions.

Was it a mistake to accept Josh’s offer? The proposal summoned a combination of anxiety, dismay, and disappointment. Anxiety and dismay over the prospect of taking her clothes off in front of a bunch of strangers. Disappointment in herself for having arrived at a point in her life where the only way out of her situation was to accept money for stripping. Lots of girls did it, and there was no shame in it. But she’d been struggling to get through college so she wouldn’t have to go that route.

She wasn’t afraid to dance. She had plenty of experience in high school musicals and dance recitals, and she knew the right moves. Dancing was the single talent she possessed. At least that part would come easily to her. What she feared most was the time afterward, when she’d have to look herself in the mirror, see the haunted desperation in her eyes, and know she’d let herself down.

“Karly?” Randy nudged her knee with his, snapping her from her reverie. “Did you hear me?”

“No. I’m sorry. What did you say?” She gave him a weak smile, avoiding his gaze.

“I said this is a good place to stop, don’t you think? My brain is overloaded.” He rubbed the space between his brows with two fingers. “I’m starting to get a headache.”

“Yes, you’re right. Let’s call it quits for tonight.” Relieved, she snapped her book shut. “I’ll get some aspirin for you.”

The tension of his headache was evident in the lines around his eyes. How had she not noticed? He took the proffered aspirin tablets from her palm, chased them down with a swig of water, and sighed heavily.

“That bad?” she asked at the grimace on his face.

“I’ve had worse,” he admitted with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s from getting whacked in the head one too many times during cage fights.” He rubbed the back of his neck and flinched.

“You mean like on TV?” Every time she thought she knew him, he hurled a new surprise at her.

“Yeah. Pretty much. I had anger issues back then. I was always getting in trouble, fighting, and acting like a hoodlum. David set me up with a few underground bouts, and I worked my way up from there. I was undefeated. I could’ve gone pro, if I wanted.” They way he looked down at the floor made her want to reach out and touch him. “After awhile, pounding the shit out of someone for money lost its appeal. It just felt wrong.”

“Out of curiosity, how many times is one too many?” She smiled at him instead, to show she understood.

“Lots. How do you think I bought that new truck?” His gaze leveled expectantly on hers. “Sometimes, I think it’s all I’m good for, really.”

On impulse, she settled a pillow onto her lap and patted it with her hand. “Here. Lay your head down for a minute.” His thick eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline, followed by an immediate wince of pain. “Come on. It’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

“Alright.” He laid down next to her and lowered his head to her lap. His dark eyes gazed up at her with approbation.

She smoothed a hand over his hair to reassure him. “Now. Close your eyes and just breathe. In and out. Concentrate on each breath.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re not going to try some new age bullshit on me, are you?”

“Just do it, Mackenzie.” The weight of his head was heavy but comforting in her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair from forehead to crown. His thick locks slipped through her fingers. The edges of her fingernails raked across scalp, stimulating the nerves. After a few seconds, his lips parted, and he moaned.

“Oh, God, that feels like heaven,” he said, eyes still shut.

She smiled but said nothing. She moved her fingertips to massage his temples, over his forehead, and finally the base of his skull, digging her thumbs into the flesh with the right amount of pressure to elicit a hum of approval. After a few minutes, the tension around his eyes eased. His breathing evened out.

The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest suggested he was asleep. She let her gaze wander over him. His tight T-shirt outlined the swell of well-developed pecs, the indentation of his sternum between them, and the ripples of abs below. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the tiny jolts of attraction deep in her core. Even though he was asleep, she continued to stroke his hair, smoothing out the curls and watching them rebound into their natural wave pattern. His eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks, unusually thick and much darker than the reddish-brown strip of beard along his jaw.

With a fingertip, she traced the stubble, soft like plush velvet beneath her touch, along the sweep of his brows, the length of his long nose, and the seam of his mouth. The sensitive curve of his upper lip promised sensuality and responsiveness. His toned body guaranteed sexual satisfaction. When her finger halted, his eyelids fluttered open to reveal the startling charcoal gray irises had gone black. He took her hand in his and pressed her palm to his lips, the brush of his mustache tickling her skin.

“Feeling better?” she asked breathlessly.

He took her hand from his lips. Her heart skipped a beat. With his hand still on hers, he pressed her palm along his neck, over the ripples of his abdomen then further down to his fly. Heat rushed into her face at the feel of the hardened ridge beneath her palm.

“What do you think?” he asked in a husky whisper, his gaze pinned to hers. Without waiting for an answer, he lifted and touched his lips to hers. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, questioning. She opened willingly for him. His tongue stroked softly through her mouth, gentle and undemanding. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she sighed.

There was nothing hurried or frantic in his kiss. He explored her lips and tongue as if taking a leisurely stroll on a sunlit beach, relaxed and in the moment. One of his arms slid around her waist. His hand pressed the small of her back. The angle of his head changed, slanting his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss and causing her inner muscles to clench with a slow, needful ache.

The low growl rumbling in his throat was the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. His free hand came up and cupped the side of her face before sliding along her jaw, down the column of her throat, and skimming over the curve of her shoulder. Butterflies fluttered low in her belly, awakened by the sound of his labored breathing. When his palm came to rest on her breast with a gentle squeeze, her chest rose and fell in a shudder of anticipation.

When a tiny, kittenish moan escaped Karly’s lips, it took every ounce of Randy’s self-control to keep from throwing her on the floor, stripping her naked, and fucking the hell out of her sweet body. For weeks he’d resisted temptation, trying to ignore his growing attraction to her. He closed his eyes and dragged his nose through her hair. Each breath filled his nostrils with the honey-and-citrus scent of her, urging him to take what he wanted without regard for the consequences.