Page 13 of His Little Secret in Discretion
“She’s strong,” he said quickly, almost defensive. “She can handle the floor, but she’s not cut out for this. The boss knows she’s the best server we’ve got, but he’d rather put her other… assets to use.” His tone soured, and my eyes narrowed.
“What do you mean? She didn’t consent to this?”
“Vaughn’s been pushing for months. Maia kept refusing, stuck to bartending and serving. But he gave her an ultimatum. This, or she’s gone.”
I glared at the glowing screen, my anger coiling tighter. This was insane. Unreal.
He was cornering her. Forcing her into this. All while I’d been buried in meaningless contracts and meetings. My jaw clenched hard enough to crack bone. She wasn’t going to be forced into anything. Especially not by some greasy fuck who thought her body was up for negotiation.
Handing the tablet back, I leaned in close, pulling a checkbook from my jacket. I scrawled a figure and slid the slip across the bar. Four grand seemed reasonable.
“Canceleverysession. Erase her name from the system.”
The bartender nodded without hesitation. “Of course, sir.” He passed me a small slip of paper in return. A room number. The one she was in.
Finishing my drink, I walked toward the back, escorted to the room by one of the guards.
The door shut behind me with a click, and I was met with a dimly lit room, red and black, velvet trimming and satin surrounding us. And there she was.
My Sunshine.
Only it wasn’t the version burned into my head. Not the seductive, shy-but-brave goddess who’d ruined me that night. This Maia was different. Nervous. Shoulders tight. Head bowed, fingers twisting at the hem of her little black shorts like she was bracing herself.
She hadn’t even realized it was me.
My chest clenched.
And fuck, she looked sexy. That black lace corset hemmed with bows tugging my attention to where her curves swelled, framedto perfection. Those tiny shorts hugging her ass, legs bare. Every inch of her was temptation.
But rage came first.
Because some other man was supposed to see her like this. To touch her. To have what I already knew was mine.
I’d never been the possessive type. Never saw the point in it. But after tasting her, after holding her in my arms all night, after half-joking and half-meaning it when I planned a marriage with her in a damn kitchen…
Yeah. I see the point now.
Chapter six
Blaine
“You know…” I started, breaking the silence. Her head snapped up, eyes wide, shoulders finally loosening.
“If I knew you were going to useSunshineas your stripper name, I would’ve given you a different one.” I smirked, trying to lighten the mood in the room as best I could.
She was on her feet in an instant, heels clicking across the floor before her arms wrapped around my neck. I held her waist as she buried her face against me, shoulders shaking.
“Sunshine, baby—don’t cry,” I whispered, shushing her softly.
“I’m so glad to see you,” she breathed, muffled into my shoulder, but every word carving into me.
I kissed her temple. “I couldn’t let you give a lap dance to the old geezers. Not when I haven’t had one yet.”
She hit my shoulder, and I smiled, softer this time. “Kidding, baby. Let’s sit, yeah?”
Hand in hand, I led her to the leather sofa. She curled beside me, but her gaze skittered away.
“Maia…” I started. “What happened?”
