Page 68 of The Obvious Check

Verity skitters out of the room; probably thankful she’s gone unnoticed because Luke is only focused on me. He steps forward so he’s right behind my chair and curls his fingers along the top as if staking his claim on me. The move makes my flesh crawl. I’m not his. I don’t want to be.

I turn to the mirror, uneasy about how close he’s getting. The pungent scent of his cologne hits me hard, and his presence is so overwhelming it’s nearly suffocating.

“You’ve been doing a great job tonight,” he purrs, his voice smooth. I detect a hint of challenge in his tone as if he’s daring me to stop him from pushing further.

“Thanks,” I reply, my voice tight as I work hard to keep my expression neutral.

I feel his fingers flex across the back of the chair, and then he leans in, his mouth hovering right next to my ear. I hold my breath.

Don’t flinch. Don’t show weakness.

“I’ve been thinking,” Luke drawls, his voice deceptively casual as he tightens his grip on the back of my chair. There they are the dreaded words.I’ve been thinking.What’s he going to force me to do now? “I know you’re scheduled for another four dances tonight, but I don’t want you on stage.”

His words hit me slowly, and I stare at him through the reflection.

“No more dancing?” My voice is weaker than I intend, and my shoulders slump involuntarily.

Luke notices immediately, his eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction, and a slow, smug smile spreads across his face. He enjoys this—seeing me lose control and being vulnerable.

I quickly drop my gaze, pulling the elastic from my hair as I let it fall loosely around my shoulders to distract myself. If I pretend I’m busy and don’t care, maybe he won’t see how rattled I am.

“What are you doing?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice as he leans even closer, filling my lungs with that nauseating cologne.

“I’m getting ready to go behind the bar,” I reply, trying to sound confident, even though my stomach is knotted tightly, and my pulse is racing.

“Behind the bar?” He snorts, mockery thick in his voice, and I drop my hands in resignation. Luke isn’t my friend; he never was. He wants something else, and there are only a few options to what it is.

“You’re not working behind the bar tonight, sweetheart.”

My entire body stiffens, my heartbeat speeding up painfully. I dread asking the question I already know the answer to. “Okay… then what exactly am I doing?”

He pushes himself off the chair, stepping closer, deliberately pressing his hips forward. My gaze is involuntarily drawn to his crotch, to the clear outline beneath his jeans, and nausea rises in my throat.

“I’ve got something more important in mind for you.” His voice drops into a suggestive growl as his hand slides down to rest near the button of his jeans.

My breath catches and panic bubbles beneath my skin. I always knew this day would come, the day he would ask me for this, but I didn’t expect it yet, and certainly not in a place where anyone could walk in.

I swallow hard, fighting back the urge to vomit as I wait, dreading whatever he’s about to force me to do. Refusing is my only option, but I can’t bear to think what my punishment is going to be.

“I need you behind Door Number One tonight.”

My gaze snaps to his, shock and betrayal stealing the breath from my lungs.

Shit. I don’t know what’s worse, having to fight off Luke’s advances or be forced to accept some random guys.

“Behind one of the doors?” My voice cracks, panic rising in my throat. “But you said I’d never have to do that.” HepromisedI’d never have to go behind one of those doors, and he’s taken that away from me too.

Luke shrugs, unfazed by my anguish. “I know. I know, but it’s only this one time,” he promises casually, as if that makes it better. I almost want to believe him, but I’ve heard it all before from him.

Only one time on stage.

Only one extra dance a night.

More. More. More.

My stomach twists with dread. I can’t do this. I can’t give myself to some stranger, especially when the only man I want is Cade. “I’m not sure.”

He studies me for a second, almost as if he’s trying to see if I’m serious, then lets out an obnoxious laugh. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you have no choice.” I can hear the thinly veiled threat in his voice. “The guy requested you specifically.”

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