Page 17 of Bully

Shallow, remember.

The door clicked open, and I looked in the mirror as Tamen walked into the room, with his causal grace I envied and leaned his shoulder against the frame.

Fuck, that man could wear a suit.

Sure, I’d seen him in a dress shirt and slacks every day since he announced himself as the new owner, but tonight, the three-piece suit he wore felt more personal somehow.

Like it made him more human somehow.

His deep voice traveled across the room, “Does it fit?”

I raised one brow at him, still looking through the mirror at him as I fussed with my lip again, although it was already perfect.

Bending over at the waist would simply give him a better view of my best asset. “Borrow it off your girlfriend for me?”

He grinned almost hauntingly and tilted his head against the door frame. “Fishing for information, are we? I thought you had more skills than that.”

I hummed like I was uninterested. “It fits.” Turning to face him, I picked up the matching purse he provided and stood still while his eyes slowly roamed over my body. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out when we get there.” He leaned up and then walked back out of the room, without even afollow me.

I held my hands up, mimicking what it would look like to strangle the man from behind, and followed him. Did I want to strangle him more or fuck him more?

Sighing and forcing myself to take a deep breath to level out my rage at his infuriating self, I settled on the answer. I wanted to strangle him while I fucked him.

“You have to be shitting me.” I cursed, sliding from the back seat of his hired town car. Tamen, of course, didn’t hold his hand out to help me, but was I even surprised?

Maybe. I thought the English were supposed to be proper.

“Just do as I say, and we’ll be fine.” Tamen adjusted his jacket and walked toward the bouncers at the door, who immediately moved the rope and let us in.

As we stepped inside the building, a loud thumping bass from the music caressed my body, reminding me of my early years in the business. “Oh yes,” I hissed, ticking off the steps to his plan on my fingers in a hushed, angry whisper. “Step one, pretend we’re together.” I shuddered, “I’d rather throw up in my handbag and then eat it.” He glared at me over his shoulder as he moved around a few people mingling at the entrance. “Step two,” I continued, “Distract anyone who might take notice of you wheeling and dealing with the staff. I’mnotgoing down for you.” I grabbed his jacket to stop him as he kept going, “And the last step of the plan, do whatever it takes to close the deals you make. Fuck all the way off. This entire plan is as flawed as your style is.”

He stopped and faced me, looking appalled at my diss toward his suit. My statement was a lie, his suit was immaculate. It was the man beneath the fabric that was flawed. “Don’t fuck this up, Rainbow.” Tamen went to walk deeper into the club, but I held firm on his jacket sleeve and pulled him back.

“I’m not helping you at all until you tell me the truth about why we’re here.” I demanded, “I deserve to know what’s going on if you want my help.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled free of my hold, “The new girls I hired won’t make the cut.” He admitted, holding my stare from above for the first time since we left Prism. The man hardly ever made actual eye contact with me unless it was to glare at me. But he was giving me his full attention finally as he explained himself. “I didn’t realize how fresh they were until they showed up tonight. They will not make the cut, and if they do, we both know they won’t make it the first week we’re open. Which leaves me way understaffed and us both in a do or die situation. I have the opening planned, but not enough girls to supply the demand.”

“And we’re here,” I glanced around the fancy strip club that sat just outside of the city but managed to gain popularity over the years. A lot of girls who worked at the Den started at a strip club just like this one. “To recruit?”

Tamen scoffed, “We’re here to steal.” He turned his body, caging me into the wall as a bouncer walked toward us, leaning his arm against the wall over my head and putting his hand on my hip. His lips hovered right at my temple as he spoke, while I tried like hell to pretend his proximity didn’t affect me. “We’re going to steal women from this club for ours. And we’re going to do it without getting caught.”

I put my hand on his chest to push him away, but he moved faster and grabbed me by the wrist, lifting my fingers to his lips as the bouncer lurked behind us. “Tam—”

“Not here.” He cut me off, pressing a sensual kiss to each fingertip as I finally tilted my head back to stare up at him. “No real names here.”

I caught the edge of the bouncer’s shadow as he moved away from us, but Tamen didn’t pull back. “Then what the fuck do you want me to call you?” A bitter hiss escaped my lips as I asked, the anger a burning coal in my chest, fueled by his deceit and my own gutless agreement to play along with it.

“I don’t care, call me Daddy if it makes you happy. Just pick something and stick to it.” He backed up, pulling his body away from mine, and I fought the urge to throw my knee up into his balls for the fun of it.

“You’re more likely to call me Mommy than the other way around, toots.” I stood up and flicked my hair over my shoulder in a power move. “Now, let’s get to work.”

He grinned like a cheshire cat and adjusted his jacket before turning away. “Let’s go get some lap dances.”

Silently watching Tamen work was—entertaining to say the least. It gave me a better understanding of how the man so effortlessly exuded the confidence to run a high-end brothel. The man was smooth, drawing women to his lap repeatedly, regardless if I sat right next to him, pretending like we were a dysfunctional couple, out on the town for some fun.

Each time he had a new girl on his lap, he’d use the guise of chatting them up to invite them to Prism for a working interview. Most of them had heard the name by now, and even if they hadn’t, I could tell by looking at the way they stared at him, they’d show up and check it out firsthand, anyway.

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