With twenty-four hours left to go, they were ready. Kara had spent her days over the last fortnight almost continually at the club, and her nights in bed with Dylan aboard the Love Tug. Her body ached pleasurably from being used in every way possible, and from using him right back. Had it really only been a few weeks since she’d first laid eyes on him? It felt much longer as the essence of him seeped under her skin, into her bones. He made her laugh, he made her moan, and he made her scream.
He made her happy.
From: [email protected]
Hey mom,
Thinking about you, be strong. Billy wouldn’t want you cry today, okay? It’s launch night here for the new club, I’ll raise a beer to him tonight.
M x
From: [email protected]
I’m not sleeping son, I was just looking through some old photographs of you boys. I doubt your brother will even register the date. Three years without Billy already. It feels like so much longer.
Hope your day goes well. I rest easier knowing that you’re out of it.
Mom xx
Dylan pushed his mobile into the pocket of his jeans, hating the image of his mom sitting alone late at night going through photos of her children in happier times. Scabbed knees and awful haircuts aplenty, no doubt, Billy always the joker with the biggest smile in the room.
Familiar, unsettling pain jostled his heart at the thought of Billy, his older brother by two years and his best friend as they grew up. He scrubbed his hands over his face harshly, trying to erase his melancholy mood. He owed it to Lucien to give this day his all. He was more than aware that without this job he’d most likely have had to move on weeks ago to someplace else, with no clear plan in mind. Drifting didn’t suit him. He’d grown up in the heart of a big, bustling family; he wasn’t accustomed to being cut adrift. Somehow he’d fallen on his feet here, into a job that consumed him, with people who invited him to bask in the warmth of their family.
And then there was Kara. Everything about the girl was pure gold, and every day the seeds of fear embedded themselves deeper into his gut. He was letting her invest her feelings, and he was investing his own, but it was all built on a house of cards. One push, and it would all fall in. Bitter experience had taught him that he could live through pretty much anything, but now, when it came to Kara, he wasn’t so sure. If he was any kind of man he’d call a halt to it, but she had him enthralled. His brain said back off, but the rest of his body refused to listen. His cock stirred at the scent of her, and his mood lifted whenever she was near.
When it came to Kara Brookes, he feared he was a very selfish man.
Chapter Seventeen
The staff had all been on site since just after five, and Kara’s entire body vibrated with first night nerves. This was by no means her first opening night, but that knowledge did nothing to slow the flood of adrenalin through her veins. She lived for nights like this - the thrills, the anticipation, the risk.
Not that there was much risk, really. Lucien and Dylan had made sure of that where the club was concerned, and she and Sophie were one hundred percent ready for curtain up in the boutique.
She looked slowly around, a careful three hundred and sixty degree spin. Every shelf stocked, every cabinet artfully lit, every mannequin unsuitably dressed. It looked beautiful; an elegant boudoir, a sexy prelude to the main event.
Over the past few years she’d become accustomed to the adult club scene, grown to love it even. She’d never been inside one as a paying customer. She wasn’t sure she would have ever been brave enough, yet the idea of working here alongside Dylan over the summer made her body thrum with lust. Not that they could or would take part in the front of house action, but every time she looked at the bar she could only think of being bent over it by Dylan.
Launch night. The calm before the storm. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. This was no mean feat, given that Sophie had laced her aubergine velvet corset dress with some gusto an hour or so back. They both wore the same outfits, a suggestive uniform that set the tone perfectly, both sophisticated and sexy as sin. The three freshly trained boutique staff were similarly attired and almost as excited as she was. She glanced up as Lucien appeared in the doorway.
“Got five minutes?” he asked. Even Kara had to admit he looked lethal, dressed in black from head to toe, the perfect canvas to set off his bronzed Viking looks. “Looking good, Mr. K,” she grinned, following him towards the bar. And then she saw Dylan, and acknowledged that good as Lucien looked, he didn’t have the same flip-flop effect on her heart as the beautiful American currently popping the cork on a bottle of vintage champagne.
Sophie was perched on a high stool at the bar, laughing at something Dylan had said. Lucien crossed to stand behind her, his fingers idly toying with the laces down the back of her corset.
“If you keep that up, the boutique customers will get more than they bargained for,” she said dryly, wriggling her shoulders to stop him from inadvertently loosening her bodice.
“You can keep it on for now. But I get to take it off later,” he murmured, for Sophie’s ears only.
“Are we celebrating already?” Kara asked, accepting the glass that Dylan held out to her. His fingers brushed warm against hers. She noticed how his eyes were drawn to her mouth and lingered for a beat longer than could be considered polite, and knew that whatever was going on inside his head that very second would be deliciously filthy. A month spent in his bed had taught her that he was a man who loved sex voraciously, and when it came to him the feelings were mutual. She couldn’t get enough. They screwed, and she just wanted him all over again, only harder. Rinse and repeat. He had a way of making her feel alive and beautiful, as if her every curve was his idea of perfection. He went straight to her head, and she found that she just wanted more, more, more.
“Okay. Doors open in fifteen, and we all need to be outside to meet and greet. The press are out in force from what I can see out there, so be ready to turn on the charm and smile for the cameras,” Lucien said, his eyes on the screen of the outdoor surveillance monitor tucked away in the corner of the bar. No one noticed the frown that puckered Dylan’s brow as he followed Lucien’s gaze, sipping his champagne automatically.
“A toast,” Lucien said turning back to them once they all had a glass in their hand. “To Gateway Ibiza, and all who screw in her.”