Page 1 of Ride With Me

CAUGHT IN THE RAIN

RS MCKENZIE

CHAPTER 1

SAGE

“Whenever you’re ready,”the deep, rumbling voice says as the bass beat pounds through the speakers in the back room at the night club. I thought when I applied to be a dancer, an assistant or something would audition me. Not the fucking owner of the club.

Rocco Bianchi sits leisurely across from me, one leg stretched out lazily. His big body spills over the side of the chair, it’s hardly able to contain him. I give him a quick once over and take in his wide shoulders, defined chest and what I know has to be rock hard abs, and like what I see. My hands itch to touch him somewhere and I make sure to add it into my routine. I’ll touch Rocco Bianchi before the night is over.

He looks at me, clearly not expecting much if his expression is anything to go by. He doesn’t know yet that I’m going to blow his fucking mind.

It has a lot to do with my appearance. To most, I look like a frat boy with a swimmers build, not a man capable of moving and contorting my body in a way that makes a man want to come in his pants.

I clear my throat and step further into the spacious room. “This is a good song,” I say nervously. All Rocco does is raise aneyebrow at me. “Can you turn it up a little? And the lights lower? They’ll be lower when I’m dancing, right?”

“If you get the job,” he says with a cruel curve of his lip. He might’ve meant it to be mean, but it only serves to make my dick grow half hard. Even with his menacing look, he does what I ask, turning the music up and lowering the lights.

During all my prior auditions here on the Las Vegas strip, the person I auditioned for asked me to remove my shirt immediately, throwing me off my groove and my routine. But Rocco lets me do what I want, and I’m grateful.

My heart thumping, I close my eyes and feel the rhythm of the music. After a few beats, my hips move of their own volition, my body already knowing what it wants to do before I give it the command.

Slowly, I roll my hips to the beat, my hands gliding up my body as I touch myself. I don’t take off my shirt just yet, even as my hands lower to the hem and I raise it just a little so Rocco’s eyes can lock in on the small stripe of flesh I show him. His eyes darken with an expression I can’t read as he stares. I may have imagined it, but he licks his lips as if he wants to eat me alive. I throw a grin in his direction, and his eyes darken further.

The mellow beats flow through me as I sway my hips. With how Rocco is looking at me and how the music seeps into my very marrow, I know I have this gig as a go-go dancer in the bag.

I blew into town with no real plan other than to get a job. I had enough money for another month of rent, then I would either have to get off my ass and take whatever job I could get or move back home. And I’d really rather not move back home. My parents would want me to work in their home improvement store until I drop dead of boredom.

After making eye contact with him once more, I turn my back to Rocco, gyrating my ass as I raise my arms above my head. When the bass beat drops, I pop my ass a few times, showinghim what I can do. Lowering my hands, I hook my thumbs into my loose pants and drag them down, only bending at the waist so my butt is high in the air. I carefully step out of the pants and toss them over my shoulder to Rocco. His lips twitch as he catches them and sets them in his lap.

I give Rocco a good view of my ass as I grab the bottom of my shirt, shaking my hips to the beat. Finally, I rip the shirt over my head, turning back to Rocco and tossing him the shirt as well. He plucks it out of the air, bringing it to his nose for a quick sniff.

Now, I have his undivided attention. Rocco is no longer lounging in the chair, but sitting straight up, almost leaning forward to watch the movement of my body as the song switches from one beat-heavy song to a slow grind. Rocco stares at me with an intensity that would singe a lesser man. I glow under the attention. There’s nothing more that I love than having someone’s complete focus.

Grinning, I walk slowly over to Rocco until we’re only inches apart. We’re so close, I can feel his soft breaths tickle across my skin. Thrusting my fingers through my hair, I roll my hips, my skin feeling tight under the attention of this handsome, dangerous man.

Everyone knows Rocco Bianchi. He’s the head of the famous Las Vegas Bianchi family. When I found out he ran this club, I knew I had to audition to work for him. I’ve seen more than my fair share of photos and read about his dangerous activities all the way in Reno. Being a go-go dancer at one of his clubs would have ensured I saw him from time to time and drooled over him at every turn. I never thought I’d be so close to him, I’d be able to count every one of his incredibly long lashes.

To my shock, Rocco reaches out, gliding his hand over my abs. Taking a risk, I slap his hand away and waggle my finger back and forth as I step back. “No touching, Mr. Bianchi.” Heslate-gray eyes flick up to mine, his plump mouth tipped up in a half grin.

He nods, sits back and watches the rest of the show. As my finisher, I drop to my knees in front of him, sliding my hands over his thighs. My fingers dance across his belt loops and I mimic undoing them as I drift closer to where I can see the imprint of his hard dick.

Just before I get to the large bulge, the song ends. I stop short of his crown and look up at him with a smirk. His gaze burns into me as I remove my hands, though I drag them down his thighs just as I did when I dropped to my knees.

Standing, I take my clothes he holds out to me. “So, what did you think?”

Rocco looks down at his cock, then back at me. “Good,” is all he says.

He has to do better than that. “Just good, Mr. Bianchi?”

His eyebrows dip as he stands in front of me, making a show of adjusting his dick in his slacks. I’m fairly tall at five eleven, but he still towers over me. I have to tip my head up to meet his eyes. “Good. We’ll call you.”

Well, that dampens my enthusiasm a little. My smile falters, but I fix it back in place quickly. “I look forward to hearing from you.” Before I can embarrass myself and fish for a compliment from his mouth, not just his dick, I grab my bag and head for the door.

When I step outside, the sun is just setting, and dark clouds fill the sky. Shit, I thought I’d be finished well before it got dark. But I had to wait close to an hour for Mr. Bianchi and then I danced to not one, not two, but three songs for him. That part was my bad. I should have finished up my routine after the first song. Especially since I don’t have a car.

My car broke down yesterday, probably in need of a timing belt or something else that I can’t fix on my own. I had justenough for a taxi into town without dipping into my rent money. If I don’t get this job, I might have to ask my parents for money. And I would absolutely hate to do that.

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