Page 2 of Captivated By Him

“No, no.” He lets me go but his hard stare keeps me planted. “Come with me.” He crooks his finger then points to the end of the bar.

“Something wrong, boss?” One of the bartenders pops up finally and looks between us.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He casts another hard glance toward me. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not leaving.” I raise my voice, but with the heavy bass of the music, he probably can’t even tell.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t say you were.”

We’re already at the end of the bar, so it only takes him a moment to get from behind the counter to where I am standing. I should have taken those precious seconds to dive into the crowd, but something tells me he’d only send security after me. Staci, Devin, and Carolyn are still out there, and I don’t need to drag them into this.

“Come with me.” He grabs hold of my arm again and lightly pulls me with him.

“You don’t have to drag me, I’ll go.” I yank free of his grip and turn toward the exit. I’ll text the girls once I’m outside and let them know I’m going home. A night of dancing with sweat-filled strangers wasn’t really what I wanted tonight anyway. Staci talked me into it, as she always does.

“No. This way.” Instead of grabbing my arm, he links his fingers through mine. It’s an entirely different sensation when a man holds your hand than an inexperienced boy. A warm electric current rushes up my arm and through the rest of my body. It throws me enough off balance that I don’t argue with him as he walks me from the busy club floor, down a hallway, and into an office markedManager.

Shit. Of course he’d see a fake ID for what it is. His ass is on the line if it gets out he’s serving underage kids. Chicago, for all its corruption and lawlessness, takes some laws seriously. And having the college campus close by puts the club under more scrutiny to be sure they’re following the drinking laws. Losing their liquor license would throw them out of business.

I’m propelled into a large business office with him right behind me. The door shuts and the music disappears in an instant.

“Noise-canceling walls and door,” he answers before I can even ask.

He stands in front of the door, folding his arms over his chest. Now that we aren’t in the dark of the club anymore, I can make him out better. There’s a tattoo winding up his forearm and it disappears beneath the short sleeve of his shirt. He’s no lineman, but he’s all muscle. His jeans are tight enough to make out his strong physique. I take a few steps away from him to keep from having to tilt my head to look at his face.

“How old are you really?” he asks after a long moment of silence passes.

I cross my arms over my own chest and put all my weight on my right foot. It’s all a facade, me trying to cover up how hard my insides are shaking. I’m alone in this office with this guy. My dad taught me how to fight, but I have to keep my focus if I’m going to take this guy out.

“Old enough.”

He sighs. “Old enough that I have to call your mommy and daddy?”

It’s my turn to laugh. “I don’t think calling my daddy is a good move.” For either of us, but I leave that part out.

“No? Why’s that?” He tilts his head to the side. I’ve piqued his curiosity.

“He’s at work. Wouldn’t like being disturbed.”

“What’s he do?” His chin juts out a bit, like a drug dog who’s picked up a scent.

“Security.” I tell the truth, more or less. My father works for the Kaczmarek family; he’s their muscle. The guy they call when they need someone knocked around a bit, or worse. Not exactly a job you put on your resume, and sure as hell not something his daughter should be divulging to anyone.

“Enough bullshitting, how old are you really and how did you get in?”

I throw on a smile. “I’m nineteen, and I walked through the front door.” His irritation grows with my admission. This club is a twenty-one and over entry. His bouncer is gonna get an earful. “Relax.” I drop my hands to my sides. “You didn’t serve me and there’s no cops here. I’ll just go. No harm, no foul. It’s not like the owners are going to find out and get you in trouble.”

His eyes narrow a fraction more and he moves to me, getting rid of all the space between us. “I’m one of the owners.”

I blink.

I was not expecting that answer.

“Well, then,” I force a wider smile, “you can really relax. You can’t exactly fire yourself, can you?”

“Your friends, how old are they?” He ignores my statement.

“I came alone.” I move my gaze away from him. His unrelenting stare makes it hard to focus on him. It’s like he’s inspecting every word I say. Avoiding his eyes should help me keep my secrets.

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