Chapter 7

Sandra

That truth hits me like a brick to the face and I sit back, reeling in shock. Whatever it is he's trying to say, I can't handle it right now, so I put a hand up as if to stop him from saying anything else. “It's been a bit of a difficult day. I need some space and a hot shower and a chance to relax and decompress.” I can glance past him at the club, sad to think about leaving because I really do want to go back inside.

“You don't want to go.” His words aren't an accusation, just a quiet statement of truth, and I stare at him, surprised.

“Of course, I want to go. I just said I wanted to take a shower and decompress.”

His gaze narrows. “I don't like it when you lie to me.”

Those words send a shiver through me, and I settle for a half-truth. “Alright, I'm kind of in a hurry to relax. It's going to take twenty minutes to a half hour to get home, and I don't know that I have that much time in me.” It's not really a lie, but it's certainly not the whole truth either.

“So why don't I give you a room for the night? You can have your own private space with a key card entry so no one else can come in. You'll be able to clean up, relax, take a bath, gather your thoughts, whatever you desire.” His dark reddish-brown eyes are on mine, and my brain tells me to say no and to ask him to take me home.

“Sure, that sounds good.” I can hardly believe those words escaped my mouth, and I stare down into my lap in horror. Is it too late to back out? Can I tell him no now? Can I change my mind this quickly without sounding like a child who can’t make her mind up? Still, excitement blossoms in my belly as I think about going back inside and seeing all those intense sights I’d enjoyed previously.

“I can take you through a back exit where no one will see you and you won’t be exposed to anything you might find distasteful.” As he says the words, my heart sinks slightly. There's no way I can ask him to take me through the front door without him being suspicious. So I swallow my disappointment and give a slight nod.

He gets out of the car and I release my seat belt before opening the door. Stepping out into the warm sunshine, I inhale a deep breath and prepare for the throbbing music, the dark excitement, and the possibility of being alone in a room with him again.

He comes to my side of the car and takes my arm, leading me toward a side door of the club. I follow without protest as he pushes his way inside. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the different light and comparative darkness, to the sunshine outside, but I blindly follow his lead, trusting him to get me into the room safely. After all, he has nothing to gain and everything to lose if he hurts me now, so I might as well trust him.

Once more, he takes that metal card out of his pocket and touches the door panel with it. I see a soft light before the door swings open a few inches. He pushes his way inside and then stops, waiting for me, gesturing me over the threshold with open arms. With what I hope is a grateful smile, I duck my head and step into the room.

He pulls the second key card from his pocket and offers it to me. I take the thin, startlingly heavy metal card and stare up at him as he closes the door behind us. “You have a card. That means you'll be able to get into the room.” Of course, I don't know for sure how it works, but I can only imagine that if he used that card to come in, he could do so again.

He nods his head graciously. “For safety reasons.”

“So you could just let yourself in whenever you want?” I plant both hands on my hips, the card tucked between my fingers and pushing against my wrist. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, but I'm not about to pull it out and check now.

Rico has the grace to have a sheepish expression as he speaks and runs a hand along the back of his neck. “Look, I prefer my women willing. I'm not about to do anything that you are not completely, one hundred percent into. I promise you, if we ever wind up in bed together, it'll be because you begged me for it.”

His words have my cheeks stinging with heat, and I squeeze my thighs together, feeling an odd ache between them. The thought of having sex with Rico does strange things to my heart rate and my breathing, but damn, the size of the ego of this man is insane!

“Do women often beg you?” I mean the words as a joke, but they come out far too serious and his eyes narrow in a way that has my heart pounding even harder.

The corners of his lips tug into a slight smile. “Are you sure you want the answer to that question?”

As he says the words, every drop of saliva in my mouth dries up and I shake my head, certain my voice won’t allow me to say a single word. I'm suddenly very aware of his proximity, the heat rolling off his body, the thick, heated, spicy scent of his cologne - something like pine, smoke, and a hint of sex - and I realize I need to put some distance between us.

So I stare at the door with a telling expression. “Thank you for setting everything up. I'll make sure I don't lose this card and have a wonderful night.” I can only hope he takes the not-so-subtle hint that I’m ready for him to leave. There will be no begging from me.

Even as I think that thought, I realize that I have wanted him since I started working for him. There have been countless days and nights that I have wished I was the kind of girl that just went after the men that I wanted, that I had that kind of confidence, that I was absolutely okay with just sleeping with people because I was attracted to them. I can tell myself that I'm different, but underneath it all I really just want affection, validation, comfort. I want someone to snuggle and cuddle with. I want to sleep with a man that makes me feel safe, and I always assumed marriage meant safety. After all, what's to stop a man from just walking away after he gets what he wants from me?