The Client 8: In Which She Comes Clean

Imo Gen was an exclusive club. Cla.s.sy, not trashy, although the origin of the name was enough to warrant Nathan – or Nate, as he insisted on being called – a head examination.

“My wife named our pit bull Nate,” he'd explained during the grand tour, “so every time we have s.e.x and she calls my name, that little f.u.c.ker comes running. So I named this club after her. It's just too bad she thinks it's hilarious.”

Too. Much. d.a.m.n. Information.

Reed had flushed a bright red at the mention of his brother's s.e.x life, pointedly ignoring me. That pretty much set the tone of the rest of the evening, since he'd barely looked at me when we were with his brother. Which was just fine with me.

On the outside, the double-storied structure seemed like it could be a staid office building, if one ignored the glitzy sign announcing that it was a nightclub. The front doors opened to a large room packed with men on comfy-looking chairs, a sprawling stage the centrepiece. A pair of topless dancers was sliding up the two strip poles in the centre of the stage, their clearly augmented b.r.e.a.s.t.s jiggling in time to the ba.s.s line of an electronic song I didn't recognise.

In one corner, a bartender mixed drinks at a small bar and in another sat a few tables and chairs occupied by a couple of men and women having drinks together. It wasn't seedy at all but, as Nathan was quick to inform us, the main attraction was upstairs, in the private gentlemen's rooms.

And when he eventually took us upstairs, selecting an empty lounge for us to have drinks – him, whiskey; Reed and me, soda – I decided that the night wouldn't be too s.h.i.+tty for Reed after all.

Of course, Nathan had other ideas and naturally, that idea didn't go by the name Iceland.

No, she called herself Carmella and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were floatation devices, or, at most, unchartered islands Survivor contestants could get dumped on for a month. After Nathan – who was equal-parts sleazy and charming – ushered his brother and me to the VIP lounge, every dancer within a hair's breadth came sniffing. As if Usher's music was a mating call.

Together, the Lancaster brothers made a striking pair and I couldn't blame these girls. However, the fact that they obviously knew their boss was quite happily married and could, therefore, only throw themselves at Reed like he was the b.u.t.ter to their toast was beginning to p.i.s.s me off.

Before Carmella with the mane of fiery red, there was Socha with the endless legs. Before her was cocoskinned Ivy. The dim lighting over the L-shaped couch we were sitting on revealed that they had f.u.c.king nametags on like they were paid to wait tables. Here I was, dressed in a s.e.xy-as-sin LBD because it was always good to blend in, and there he was, looking disgustingly edible in a plain white T and dark jeans.

I can't touch him. Self-imposed torture. The right thing to do.

But something irrational was beginning to take hold of me and my self-control was quickly waning. And all the while, Reed just sat there like a deer in headlights, allowing every woman in his brother's bar to get his crotch and their a.s.ses acquainted.

I was going to scream and it wasn't yeah, like Usher wanted.

“What's the matter? Don't like the music?”

The couch offered a continent of s.p.a.ce between us, yet Nathan was squashed beside me, so close I could feel his breath on my skin. In this room, slightly elevated above the club, the music was lower, the floor vibrating.

“It's OK. Why?” I replied, my voice abrupt and borderline rude.
“The scowl on your face says otherwise, Miss Anosova.” He arched a brow, jerking his blonde head in Reed's direction on the other end of the couch as he took a swig of the whiskey he'd been nursing for the past thirty minutes. “Anyway, I've been meaning to ask you how he's doing.”

“I'm his bodyguard, not his therapist,” I said before I could catch myself. This was so not the time to act insolent and, in a breathless voice, I rushed to apologise. “Jesus, Mr. Lancaster, I apologise. Please, ignore me. Tough day.”

His entire face practically glowed with the smile he gave me and in that moment, I could honestly see how alike he and his brother were. “I like you. You're s.p.u.n.ky. I bet you don't take my brother's s.h.i.+t.”

No, just his virginity, thank you very much and goodbye.

“Our relations.h.i.+p is only professional,” I said very calmly, keeping a very unprofessional eye on Reed as Carmella whispered something in his ear that made his face turn a darker shade of red. “He's my boss.”

“I'll be straight with you, Miss Anosova,” said Nathan, leaning in. Was it my imagination or had the music gone softer, lower just then? “I didn't hire you because you're great at your job. I hired you because you're a woman and my brother needed contact with the opposite s.e.x – contact that didn't include his geriatric nanny and married p.u.b.escent cleaner.”

I clenched my jaw, grinding my teeth together. My fists were balled on either side of my thighs and I had to count to ten in my head. Whatever I did in that instant – with Magnetic Man's I Need Air as my theme song – would reflect on my father's security company. As much as I wanted to give Nathan Lancaster some contact – namely, my fist contacting his nose – I needed to respond the way the old Lena would never have responded: Cool, calm and collected.

I narrowed my eyes at the man whose looks were where the similarities between him and his younger brother ended. “Contact. And what kind of contact are you talking about, Mr. Lancaster?”

But I knew. Oh, how I knew.

“I think by now you've realised that Reed is…special,” Nathan informed me, and my eyes automatically travelled to the subject of our conversation, who was currently trying to s.h.i.+ft away from Carmella's behind. Laughing, she turned to face him and held him down, hands firmly on his shoulders. I could almost hear her say, “You will enjoy this lap dance if it's the last thing you do.”

“Special, how? If you're referring to his painting even before his sight was restored, the entire art world knows that.”

“I'm referring to the fact that he needs to get laid because he's a virgin.”

I almost – almost – told him to f.u.c.k off because that s.h.i.+p had sailed. Instead, I bit out, “That's none of our business.”

Nathan rolled his eyes at me. “This is what a big brother does, OK? I've always looked out for him and I always will. Getting him laid is in my job description. He's twenty-f.u.c.king-eight-years-old and he's never even gotten to first base.”

Brenda had been right to despise Nathan so freaking much. I was beginning to understand that the guy didn't understand the meaning of TMI or boundaries, especially when it came to his little brother – who wasn't even so little to begin with: Reed was at least a foot taller than him.

“Wyatt Parker's been released from jail,” I said through clenched teeth, ignoring an approaching brunette in a skin-tight glittery dress. “Are you honestly going to sit there and say that you don't care if I'm qualified? That throwing strippers at your brother in the hopes that he'll sleep with one is more important than making sure he's safe?”

Nathan motioned for the woman to pivot in front of me with a twist of his finger. “I'm not saying that,” he said to me. “FYI, Samuel is ex-military. Reed doesn't know and I'd like to keep it that way. You're just a bonus.” He fixed his eyes on me, gesturing at the woman whose nametag I wasn't going to bother to read. “This is Celia. She likes to graze the lawn, if you catch my drift. My gift to you for getting my brother out tonight.”
Blood boiling – check.

Fist itching to get acquainted with a certain Lancaster's face – check.

“Hi, you're cute as a b.u.t.ton,” Celia told me, running her hands down her side and wiggling a bit. She sent me a wink. “Like what you see, hon?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” I replied, getting to my feet. “Please, excuse me, Mr. Lancaster. My client is uncomfortable with this situation.”

Without waiting for Nathan to say anything, I marched over to Carmella and hoisted her off Reed. The deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes swiftly faded as his eyes conveyed his grat.i.tude. Carmella, on the other hand, didn't give a d.a.m.n about that.

“Excuse me?” she snapped at me, staring me down in her skysc.r.a.per heels. “I get that you're VIP and s.h.i.+t but don't you dare…” Her voice trailed off when she noticed the gun in the holster strapped to my right thigh.

Satisfied, I pulled the hem of my dress back down to hide it. “That's right. Don't f.u.c.king test me, babe.”

“You're f.u.c.kin' crazy,” she yelled over the music, smoothing her dress down. She nodded at Reed. “Probably gay, since he wasn't gettin' hard or nothin'.” She stomped out the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Thank you,” Reed mouthed at me, leaning back in the couch with an exhale.

“Get up.”

Reed shot a nervous glance at Nathan before slowly rising to his feet, looming over me. I took hold of his hand, dragging him behind me as I led him out the room and into the pa.s.sageway.

“P-Please tell m-me we're leaving n-now,” he implored me, his fingers curling around mine.

“Your brother is a total d.i.c.k,” I spat, shoving Reed against the wall. He let out a groan of surprise, his eyes wide. “I would've decked him if I was working for anyone else but my father.” My fingers fisted in his s.h.i.+rt and I could feel his heart, banging against his chest as fast as mine was.

“Lena,” he growled, bringing his hands over mine, “what did he say?”

I threw a glance at the open door to the lounge Nathan was taking his sweet time leaving. “Fúck him,” I snarled, then tilted my head, letting Reed go. “Actually, no. He isn't my type. I don't want to f.u.c.k him. I want you.”

His eyes actually widened to double their size. I didn't bother to stand around talking when we were wasting precious time in this G.o.dforsaken club. Instead, I backed away from him and stepped into the empty, oblong room Nathan had proudly shown to us about an hour ago – the Gla.s.s Lounge. The second Reed followed me inside, I gently closed and locked the door, catching a long look at myself in the mirror on the back of it. I looked…p.i.s.sed off. Turned on.

Pivoting on my heel, I found Reed warily staring at me, as if he were afraid I'd pounce on him then and there. He just had to give a girl some credit.

“We should talk, shouldn't we?” I said, more to myself than to him. “Sit.” I gestured at the round, leather love seat behind Reed, unable to resist a smile when his eyes swung to it, as if noticing it for the first time.

“It won't bite, Reed,” I promised, and he gingerly lowered himself onto it, bracing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward expectantly. Once again, I caught my reflection in another mirror and decided that, since the entire soundproofed room was made up of panoramic mirrors on each wall, I had to get used to that.
Reed's hesitant voice pulled me out of my brief moment of vanity. “What you s-said out there? I thought we weren't –”

“Did you enjoy the dancing?” I cut in, striding to the gla.s.s table of drinks on one side.

“What?”

I poured myself a gla.s.s of what looked like expensive red and chugged it down. “The girls. Did you like them? Nathan thought you would but personally? Not my type.” I turned to look at him, not exactly sure where I was going with this but wanting to hear his answer.

He lowered his eyes. “No. Never,” was his firm response. “He thinks he's helping me. That he's...making up for things. I'm…getting used to it.”

“Sweetie, no one should ever say they're getting used to their brother actively trying to get them laid by a stripper,” I told him, sighing. “Just tell him you're not a virgin anymore and he should mind his own f.u.c.king business.”

His head shot up. “I can't do that to you.”

“You don't have to say I slept with you, Lancaster.” I went to him, threading my fingers in his hair and making him look up at me. “That's our little secret. Right?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, and he hesitantly placed his hands on my waist. “I've n-never s-seen you in a d-dress. You look…amazing.”

“Don't get used to it,” I huffed, reaching beneath my dress and unbuckling my holstered gun. I leaned forward, set it on the couch, and straddled Reed, pressing my hands flat against his heaving chest. “You can kiss me now,” I whispered.

However, watching his eyes glaze over – in that way all men did when they were rendered immobile with l.u.s.t – made it crystal clear that I was going to have to continue to take the lead. And just like it always was when my lips met his, he completely changed; pushed his hands into my hair, held my head as his tongue slid past my lips and dipped against mine.

My arms were thrown around his neck, holding him to me. Together, we moaned and, when I could feel his arousal stirring in his pants, fumbled to unzip him, he pulled back, his breath coming out in short pants.

“I'm confused,” he said breathlessly. “You said...you said we wouldn't – couldn't – do this again. I thought...I thought...” His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “I don't know what I thought.”

I leaned in to him, my face in his neck, inhaling the dizzying scent that was all Reed. “I know what I thought,” I said on a sigh, tonguing my way up the pulsing artery on the side of his neck. “I thought I had better self-restraint now.”

He let out a guttural groan, arms falling limply to his sides. “Lena,” he rasped, “you make me so hard it hurts.”

“I don't want you to hurt,” I said back, hoisting myself off him and kneeling between his parted legs. His hooded eyes followed my descent and his hands helped me unbuckle his belt, dragging down the zip of his jeans. My pússy clenched at the sight of his erection once he lifted himself up a little so I could work his boxers down as well. “G.o.d, Reed, I can see why that would hurt.”

He made a strange sound in his throat when I wrapped both hands around the base of his cóck. I liked that sound, wanted to hear it again, so I lowered my mouth to him, ran my tongue up his length and finished by wrapping my lips around the head.

I almost came when I tasted the bittersweet tang of his essence. It filled the air, filled my mouth and suddenly, I didn't want to wors.h.i.+p him with my mouth. I needed to fill him inside me, losing control, fúcking me.
I released him with a pop and his eyes snapped wide open. “Shít, no, don't stop,” he pleaded in a hoa.r.s.e voice.

“Can't wait,” I mumbled, my hands flying to the secret compartment located within the sofa. Nathan had gleefully showed it to us, pus.h.i.+ng a discreet b.u.t.ton that opened a slot of condoms of every colour, size and taste. The variation of size was debatable. Frustrated as I sifted through my loot, I bit out a, “Christ, was he expecting baby-d.i.c.k clients?”

Reed s.h.i.+fted, digging into his back pocket and flicking out his wallet. “I, uh, might have one. In my size.”

I narrowed my eyes up at him. In that instant, a vicious jealousy like I had never known set fire to my skin. “I will bite your d.i.c.k off if you tell me you expected to sleep with a stripper tonight.”

A protective hand flew to his crotch. “h.e.l.l, no,” he insisted, handing me the square packet. His face flamed. “Just...you. I know it was... presumptuous of me but I f-figured...” His eyes bugged out. “OK, you're taking your clothes off... I don't know what I'm supposed to... Fúck.”

And I was. Taking my clothes off, I mean. The mirrors behind the sofa forced me to watch my silk-and-lace dress pool at my high-heeled feet; to watch my b.r.e.a.s.t.s appear once I undid the front clasp of my demi-bra, watch my nipples pearl in the cool air; to watch my thong follow the path of my dress.

My hair fell in onyx waves just past my shoulders. I hadn't tied it up tonight. Maybe a small part of my subconscious remembered how Reed liked it. That small part of me deserved a hiding with a leather belt – but then again, it was the reason I was standing here, stripping for a man I worked for in a club owned by his brother.

I stepped out of the puddle of clothing, unable to tear my eyes from the naked Lena sauntering to the man on the sofa and standing between the V of his long, o. I had never observed myself like this, half-dizzy with l.u.s.t and completely and totally bare. Looking at myself like this, knowing that I was wet – seeing it in the mirrors a hundred times over – was turning me on and every inch of me was tingling with awareness.

“I need you to kiss me.” I hadn't meant to say that; had meant to ask him to get naked, to fúck me. But my voice was breathless, desperate.

Reed's hands wrapped around my thighs, bringing me closer, and then his lips, so soft they were barely there, pressed against my abdomen. A s.h.i.+ver darted down my spine and my stomach clenched, my breathing ragged. And when he moved lower, his open-mouthed kisses setting me ablaze all over again, I had to steady myself and hold onto his thick hair.

“Stop,” I whispered, when his hot breath ghosted across my apex.

“Nuh-uh. Not this time,” he rumbled, the vibrations of his lips against the wet folds of my pússy making my clít pulse and ache. “Gonna kiss you here” – his tongue ran up my slit and rolled around my clít – “and here.”

My back bowed when his tongue sliced into me, his nose hitting the swollen bud that was currently making it impossible to think. My knees buckled and he propped me up; my eyes slid shut and yet...yet I wanted so desperately to watch myself fall apart. I forced them open, a moan slipping past my lips and into the air filled with the musky scent of my arousal.

Reed groaned against my pússy lips, thumbing my folds apart for better access with his tongue. My climax took me by surprise. Fast and draining, I completely shattered with a scream and Reed caught me, holding my panting body to his chest.

“Remind me to buy some stock in Häagen-Dazs. Or Ben and Jerry's,” I murmured once my breath returned to me and I could fully appreciate that I was sitting on Reed's lap.
He laughed, a genuine started-in-his-belly laugh. “Funny.”

I was aware that he was rock-hard beneath me and I tilted my head to capture his mouth in a soul-searing kiss. It was my turn to pull back, tear open the foil and reach between us to sheathe him. I stared into his eyes, the eyes that were so like his brother's and yet so different. My nose wrinkled. I so didn't want to be thinking about his a.s.shole brother right then.

Our heavy breathing filled the air as I rose and turned, my back to him. I felt his eyes on my a.s.s, saw them in the mirrors. Desire wound its way around my body, sinking its teeth in, and I was powerless to resist it. Instead, I lowered myself back down, legs astride Reed's, my eyes on our reflections.

“Watch,” I rasped, taking his díck in my hands and sliding the tip along my open pússy. Reed's nostrils flared and he pulled his lower lip into his mouth, hips jerking.

“Lena,” he groaned painfully, closing his eyes, “I need...”

“You're not looking. You need to look.” My head rolled back beside his while his c.0.c.k continued to kindle fire inside my core. “Watch me take your díck.”

His eyes opened, lips slightly parted as I rose off his lap and brought myself down again, taking him inside me. Our mutual moans of satisfaction were hoa.r.s.e, broken. My pússy stretched to take him, pink and glistening and swollen. I had never seen a more beautiful sight than Reed Lancaster's c.0.c.k sliding into me and, when I pressed my forefinger where we were obscenely joined, I had never felt anything better, either.

“Oh G.o.d.” I gasped when his hands cupped my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, rolling the nipples between his fingers. He was thrusting up into me and I was cras.h.i.+ng against him, my entire body coiled with the need for release. “So good. You're so perfect, baby.”

His breath was in my ear, and then his lips were there, too. “No. Hate my reflection. Love yours.”

Something in my chest constricted and I reached behind me, gripping a hank of his hair. “Look at us,” I said in a voice I didn't even recognise. “I'm...gonna come just watching you. Make me come, Reed.”

His thrusts became more feral, more frantic. Against my wishes, my eyes closed and my mouth made all kinds of foreign noises. Reed's fingers worked my clítoris and his mouth kissed the side of my neck. I could smell him; smell me and the s.e.x that seemed to wrap itself around us in a blanket of desperate need.

“Coming,” Reed growled, his final, deepest thrust shoving me over the precipice with him and into oblivion.
It took me a while to recover and once I did, the reality of what I'd just done – the things I'd said – finally sank in. And the sad, sad truth was that I didn't want to let go of this man.

But only I knew that I was going to...because I couldn't stay at the Lancaster estate knowing that I was a f.u.c.king nonent.i.ty, hired because I was female and good practice for the master of the house – while the actual security came in the form of Samuel Whatever-the-h.e.l.l, the freaking butler.

My ego was so bruised it was in the ICU and after tonight, I had to hand in my notice. If I was lucky, I could get away with saying it just didn't work out for me. My brothers would believe the fickleness in that tale. But what would Reed believe?

“Reed?”

His eyes were heavy-lidded and his fingers were languidly running up and down my bare stomach in a very distracting way. “Mm?”

“We should go.” He was twitching inside me and I absolutely wasn't ready to go again. Not right then when I was feeling so s.h.i.+tty about myself.

“Mm.”

He made no move whatsoever and I rolled my eyes, slowly lifting myself off him. I instantly felt bereft. I had to shake that off.

Three minutes later, I was fully dressed and Reed sat watching me, a dreamy look on his face. “Could you please get a d.a.m.n move on?” I snapped my fingers in his face.

“I was just thinking,” he said softly, remaining seated as he put himself away and did up his jeans. “Every time you call me baby, you kind of cry out the first half of the word and moan the last.”

Was that my face heating up or an oven set on bake? “Shut up.”

“If you really want me to.” He sent me a wink that made it impossible for me to remember why I even wanted to leave him.

“I need to...make sure the floor's secure,” I finished lamely, turning on my heel and finding the door. “Take care of the condom.” Turning the lock with a casual flick of my wrist, I stepped outside, closing the door behind me.

Pull it together, Lena. Pull. It. Together.

I turned and thumped my forehead against the wall, hating Nathan so much it was unreal. If he had just kept his big mouth shut, I wouldn't be feeling this useless, this stupid. I mean, I'd known that I'd been hired because I bled once a month like clockwork but the fact that he didn't even trust me enough to do my job and had a trained, undercover bodyguard at Reed's side already made me see red. Ivan would have a field day with this one.

“d.a.m.n it,” I muttered. “d.a.m.n it to h.e.l.l.”

“Is everything OK?” a voice I didn't recognise wanted to know.

I whirled around, ready to snap that no, everything was not OK because the Lancaster brothers were turning my life upside down – but the words died on my lips and all that came out was a surprised choke.

How stupid did the man who'd killed the Lancaster brothers' father have to be to get into their club?

Or, a voice in my head said as I reached for my gun, how smart?