Rhythm Page 4

  I didn’t have to worry about the outcome since his asking nice hadn’t happened. With my eyes focused, on where I’d left my jacket and coat, I walked toward the table and ignored him.

  Common sense melted the ice in my veins. For the night, I’d been representing Maxine’s Baby Doll Escort service. If he’d heard the same rumors I’d heard, Marty Jones had every reason to believe I might sell a little something on the side.

  When I remained mute, he added, “At least, let me feed you. Your stomach growled in time with the music.”

  “Oh, you, flatterer.” I murmured the silly words and batted Marilyn eyes at him instead of the nasty smack down resounding in my head. Even so, a flush of embarrassment washed over me. Or maybe it was the way he leaned closer. For whatever reason, I felt breathless, dizzy. Damn.

  “You’re crowding me, bozo.” I snarled. And this time, it wasn’t Marilyn talking. “I don’t want breakfast.”

  “My name’s Marty, not bozo. What’s yours?”

  “Marilyn.” My brain took that moment to telegraph that certain body parts had endured enough—first and foremost, my feet. Without the artificial high of music, I wanted nothing more than to step out of the four-inch heels and slump on a chair.

  Gable and Janie wore coats and waited with bad news. “Got a problem, Marty.”

  The two men went into a huddle and left me with Janie.

  “We’ll all have to get together, again,” Janie assured me, making small talk. “Marty smiled all night. Just wow.”

  Evidently, a smile from Marty was rare. His wrinkled brow and frowny frown earlier in the evening had given me a good indication of his usual surly mood.

  Her hope of more together times surprised me. Yes, we’d bonded over home upgrades, but it was casual fill-in-the-time talk, not really bosom buddy stuff. This was a one-time date, and I liked her; but a future foursome that included Marty and me just wouldn’t be happening

  “I really need to get out of here,” I told her. “I doubt we’ll meet again, so thank you for sharing your table and remodeling tips.” There, I’d done my duty. But the way she gazed anxiously at Gable, it didn’t take a genius to figure something was wrong.

  Something which is none of my business. I looked at the two men deep in conversation. Marty Jones had already forgotten my existence. It seemed the perfect time to slip away.

  “I hope everything’s all right,” Janie continued as if I knew what was going on.

  “I’m sure they can handle anything.” I picked up my bolero jacket, shrugged into it, folded my heavy coat over my arm and started for the exit.

  Marty beat me to the door and had it open waiting when I arrived. Which was good since I’d forgotten I needed cab fare.

  “I’d like to borrow twenty dollars,” I said quickly.

  He pulled out his wallet and handed me a hundred-dollar bill.

  “I don’t have change.” I could feel my face flame. Obviously, I didn’t have change. “I’ll pay you back.” I was also dumping whatever money Maxine paid me into the donation fund.

  “You can get change at breakfast.”

  I noticed his penchant for using imperative sentences. They didn’t work on me. I didn’t like being bossed around.

  On the other hand, not being stupid, I didn’t disagree. I’d found it easier to let people believe what they wanted. Regardless of his plans, I’d be peeling away the first moment possible. He’d get his change by way of Maxine.

  Janie watched the exchange, with, I thought, a hint of disapproval. Since I didn’t need her approval, I should have kept my mouth shut. But, I didn’t. “Cab fare. I’ll get change for him at breakfast.”

  Beside me, Marty grunted in what I assumed to be satisfaction. Okay, he thought I’d been out-maneuvered. When Marty reached for my arm, I stepped away.

  “I don’t need a guide to find the elevator,” I muttered. I was off the clock, and Mr. You-sellin’-fucks-this-morning did not need to be steering me around.

  “It was an interesting evening,” I told him politely.

  “It ain’t over ’til it’s over,” he agreed.

  “It’s over,” I stated.

  “You owe me change,” he said, and I noticed his perpetual frown had changed to a smirk.

  What the heck? I fumbled with the hundred, getting ready to shove it down his throat. He was saved when a cop stepped in our path, and interrupted our conversation.

  “Hey Marty. Someone took a crack at your Hummer.”

  “Yep. That’s what I heard.”

  Of course, he owned a Hummer. When I would have dropped back a bit, he reached over and held my arm. Not tight, not hurting, but detaining. He continued to talk to the cop as I stood beside him, trying to tone down my desire to kick his ass.

  The man-huddle subject was revealed. Marty’s vehicle had been one of several vehicles parked in the reserved section of the parking garage and vandalized during the dance-a-thon. Rather than interrupting our dance, Gable had answered the license plate all-call, shut off the alarm, and taken care of initial city police business.

  I hadn’t heard an all-call. From Marty’s surprised look, neither had he. Unfamiliar feminine pride fluttered inside me as I realized he’d been as mesmerized as me. Uh huh.

  “Normally, we’d have come to get you, but no way was anyone interrupting your dance. Damn Marty. I even started calling people and getting pledges when you passed five hours.” The cop tipped his chin respectfully at me as well. Evidently, our marathon dance had earned a lot of green for the cause.

  All that praise didn’t make my feet feel better. It was time to leave. I shrugged off Marty’s hold and stepped away. The strappy sandaled four-inch heels, uncomfortable even at the beginning of the evening, scraped against a blister on top of a blister on my heel. I winced.

  “We can drop you somewhere if you need a ride.” Janie made an offer I couldn’t refuse.

  “Just downtown. That would be great.” Get me downtown, and I’d go to Maxine’s office and wait for Megan or Roger to pick me up. Walking at this point just wasn’t going to happen. I leaned down, unstrapped my shoes, stepped out of them, and wiggled my toes.

  Better. The men were still talking, their backs turned. No one else was around so I made an executive decision.

  “Hold these.” I handed Janie the shoes, reached under my skirt, unhooked the nylons, and began rolling the left one down and off. Maybe he heard my sigh of relief, because as I worked on the second one, Marty turned his head and watched me step barefoot on the carpeted floor.

  I bared my teeth at him, daring him to make a crack. He didn’t. His expression remained blank, which made me feel like an exhibitionist.

  When he returned to his conversation and stopped gawking at me, I tucked the hundred-dollar bill I’d been palming into a shoe along with the balled nylons.

  Normally I would have stuck it in my bra, but thanks to the Marilyn dress, I wasn’t wearing one. And, I definitely didn’t trust the dress’s under-support to hold me, let alone my money.

  When the male parlay ended, and we continued to the elevator, Marty again made himself my escort. I couldn’t avoid noticing that the distance between us had altered. Four inches shorter and I really had to tilt to meet his gaze.

  The cop, Gable, and Janie stepped inside the cubicle when the doors slid open. Beside me, Marty noticed my bare feet and took the shoes from me.

  “I don’t need help carrying—”

  “Get in,” he ordered me and stepped inside the elevator. I had the choice of staying in the lobby bare foot and once again broke, or following him to retrieve my shoes and money.

  Or, I could wait in the manager’s office and call someone. I thought of the big-eared kid and nixed that idea.

  “Promise he’s not an axe-murder,” I muttered to Janie as I gazed at my shoes in Marty’s hand. I wasn’t reassured by her murmured disclaimer.

  I entered the elevator and rode upstairs with Marty who stood so close to me we could have continued our dan
ce. Once we arrived, the men took off, leaving Janie and me together to follow them across the cement floor.

  “Ugh. Some cretins spray-painted nasty words on a Mercedes, keyed the side of an Audi, and slashed the tires on a Cadillac Escalade.” Apparently, Janie had already seen the damage when Gable came to take care of business.

  “Why?”

  “Who knows,” she answered and shrugged. “Guess they took pity on us peons driving the work trucks. They didn’t touch Gable’s F150. They did a job on Marty’s Hummer though. The back window’s been smashed.” She stopped and pointed at the monster sized SUV before us and then at the garage floor.

  Well damn. I scrunched my bare toes and stared at the broken glass, then at the tough, massive, gas guzzling, vehicle. Not new, but neither was Marty. I sneaked a quick look his way. A little gray sprinkled in the thick dark hair. He needed his eyebrows trimmed. And a shave. Maybe not. The scruff looks good.

  I kind of wanted to reach up and run the back of my hand along his jaw. I mean, at the beginning of the night he’d been clean shaven. He had dark stubble now.

  “What?” He caught me staring at him.

  “I thought they quit making those,” I muttered, motioning toward the Hummer. I felt a blush creep up my neck. I don’t know how long I’d been ogling him.

  “Lucky I got one before that happened,” he said and focused his attention back on the cop. Which was fine. I went back to being nosey. I eavesdropped as much as I could since nothing else was happening and my toes were getting colder by the minute.

  I don’t know if he heard my teeth chattering but after a quick look my way, he wrapped things up fast. The cop couldn’t have been more in awe if he’d been shaking the President’s hand and agreed to whatever Marty said.

  A security guard on duty had responded to the car alarm, but not fast enough. No one had been caught physically or on the camera pointing at this section of the parking area.

  “Camera was okay this morning,” the cop said, pointing at the smashed monitor in the corner. “The security guard called it into the police, we took pictures, and you’ll have to go to the station when you can to sign some paperwork which I don’t have.”

  I spied the security guard leaning against the wall with a broom, evidently waiting to remove the broken glass.

  Marty walked around the vehicle, squatted next to it and looked underneath. When he stood again he looked at Gable and said, “Drop us off at the office.”

  Oh, I don’t think so. I’d been too curious wondering about what was happening and indecisive about putting my stockings back on before I caught a ride downtown.

  Gable lifted Janie into the waiting pickup, and I decided to take the elevator back downstairs to the main building.

  Contrary to what I thought, Marty proved aware of my intentions. Before I’d taken two steps, he’d caught my arm, and stopped me. “Glass on the floor.” He picked me up, carried me to the truck, and opened the backdoor.

  “You’re not going my way,” I assured him, uncomfortably aware of his hand cradling my ass.

  “Yeah, I am,” he disagreed, and set me on the seat. Then he slid in close beside me and slammed the door.

  He was a big man but not that big. He did not need to ride with his thigh pressing against my hip. But after Marty tucked my skirts closer, and buckled me in, I forgot about cold bare feet as his body heat raised my core temperature to burn. Whew.

  Not being stupid, I knew where this was going. At least, where he labored to steer it.

  “Janie,” I leaned forward. “Just drop me anywhere downtown.”

  “Gable, I promised…” she paused, fumbling with a name for me since I’d asked her not to share earlier. Marty inserted himself in the discussion.

  “She’s got blisters on her feet, no socks to put on, and she’s dressed like Marilyn Monroe, for fuck’s sake.” He turned to me. “I don’t bite. You can use a phone in my office if you want to call for a ride. Or hell, I’ll call an Uber driver to take us to breakfast before you go home.”

  Yeah right, and you’d have my address. Not happening that way, Mr. Jones. “Okay.” I didn’t need to change my plan. I checked my watch. It was eight in the morning. Baby Doll’s Escort Service occupied an office on the fourth floor of the Smoke, Inc. building.

  I could use Maxine’s phone and at the same time make certain she charged Big Boss out the wazoo for his dance time. He could afford it. He didn’t appear to give two shits about his Hummer. Maybe I’d get my fancy faucet, after all.

  Marty

  I had no idea how Maxine worked. Did she recruit or take applications? Did she offer protection for her girls? She should. That thought made me wince. Just what we need, hired thugs strolling in and out of the building.

  Again, I realized I might have been hasty in offering Maxine office space in Smoke’s new building. But, the possibility of unwinding that contract wasn’t enough to distract me from the immediate focus—my dance partner. I’d been painfully erect most of the night. Her “no” when I offered to pay her for sex should have deflated me.

  Instead of embarrassed and backing off, my cock had no shame. Mild interest had changed to primitive need when I’d seen her stripping off her stockings. Long legs. I’ll start with those wrapped around me for breakfast.

  Instead of worrying about the Hummer, the business, or the bad weather, I absorbed her heat and the ice I hadn’t known I carried in my veins, thawed as I sat next to her in the truck. Earlier, she’d been an uninhibited wild woman pumping rhythm through her veins. Picturing her dancing with me horizontally, had me rock hard.

  But since the music had ended her sly grin had gone into hiding. I wondered about who she really was. Without the flush of exercise, her face seemed pale. I stole looks at her during the ride across town.

  She sat next to me, clearly pissed-off at my maneuvering. It had been easy enough to get her in Gable’s truck. I’d resisted yelling at her. Dammit, if she planned to make her living selling fucks, trusting and vulnerable were not good attributes to display.

  A babe in the woods. Closer scrutiny assured me she wasn’t a teenager. Still, compared to my thirty-eight years, she seemed young. That thought along with a million others popped into my head. I wondered if I was getting loopy from lack of sleep. It felt as if my brain had kicked into overdrive.

  “Gettin’ bad out again.” Gable switched on his wipers, cranked up the heat, and turned on the radio, creating an oasis of quiet safety in the cab of the vehicle. I relaxed.

  “Our twelve-hour marathon earned a lot for the family.” I felt good about the night. I felt great about her. Hell, she’d worked her ass off earning money for a guy she didn’t even know. I nodded my appreciation and added, “Make sure Maxine pays you accordingly.”

  She gave a startled jerk at my reminder. Maybe I’d been a little gruff. I tried to paste on a pleasant look. I hadn’t intended to get to know my night’s partner but after twelve hours of sweaty familiarity, I couldn’t seem to step back into impersonal.

  Paying a woman to let me screw had never been my thing. On the other hand, I now considered the possibility of doing just that. Truth. I’d not wanted to fuck for a long time.

  But pressed tight against her side, with the snow outside the window cocooning us in a white veil of privacy, and her scent combining with mine in the backseat of Gable’s truck, I had a prodigious hard-on, making it clear my days of abstinence were over. She’d said no. Maybe she’d change her mind.

  “Before we eat, I need to stop at my office,” I told her, abruptly making up my mind. She didn’t object.

  Due to it being an early Saturday morning, the company parking lot was empty when Gable pulled into his space. We had the place to ourselves.

  “You want me to send over a car?”

  “I’m good. Have the shop bring the Hummer over here when they replace the back glass.”

  It was now or never. I pasted on my I don’t give a shit whether you come with me or not look and glanced at my d
ance partner.

  Marilyn, huh. Costume or not, I already knew a lot more about her than she wanted to share. After she took off the jacket earlier, she’d fidgeted with the straps on her dress, making me certain she didn’t usually flaunt her tits.

  Her skin was as soft as a baby’s. I didn’t see much makeup left. No surprise since she’d been chewing the red lipstick off earlier, and it had disappeared hours before. Even without artifice, her mouth offered kissable lips. We’d touched mouths at the end of the dance. Not enough. I ached to taste her again, maybe suck on that full bottom lip before I slid my tongue…

  Jesus. I fumbled for control, fighting the desire to go caveman and throw her over my shoulder, hauling her to my place. My place being my office. I stalled mentally for a moment wondering where I’d dropped my discarded dirty clothes.

  She shifted on the seat next to me, and her thigh rubbed against mine. Bare legs ready to wrap around and ride. I stifled a groan. If she was driving up the price, I didn’t care. She was a consummate artist-at-work—tease, seduce, tempt.

  I opened my passenger door and stepped out, reaching back for her. She’d already unhooked her belt and grabbed her shoes. Miss Independent clearly didn’t need a hand from me.

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to drop you somewhere else?” Janie asked her as she scrambled away from me and out the other side.

  “I’m fine,” she murmured.

  “You got this, boss?” Gable asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.

  “You know it.” I closed the door, stepped back, and Gable drove away, removing the barrier between Marilyn and me.

  Holly

  I’d expected more people to be around mid-morning in parking building, even if it was a Saturday. But apparently, the weather had kept people home, and, except for my dance partner angling for another kind of dance, things were quiet. I wasted no time heading for the closest exit which happened to be the elevator going up to the ground floor.