Dark Secrets Page 7

  That was somewhat offensive, but he wasn't offended. She was right; it was smart business to let the people who knew what they were doing, do it.

  "Then you take the computer print out and all the credit card receipts and you put it with this money and then drop it into the lock box in the office. That's about it. So," she said, putting the print out, the spill log, and the drawer in a stack and moving out from behind the bar to one of the tables in the bar area. "Grab that calculator," she advised as she sat down and laid out all the stuff she had compiled.

  He grabbed the calculator and followed her to sit down across from her. "You're gonna watch me do it?" he asked, smirking.

  "No," she said, shaking her head and standing again. "I am going to go and play Mahjong on my phone," she informed him, moving away. "Tell me when you're done so I can check it."

  With that, she moved away and he got to work. He had cashed out dozens of times at the other bar job he had worked at so he knew what he was doing and once you got the hang of it, it went relatively quickly. But he checked twice just to make sure before he walked back to the bar.

  Thanks to years of practice as things like it, he was always able to walk up on her without her noticing. So when his body pressed into hers in the corner of the back bar and he dropped the drawer and drop bag down on the counter to her side, she jumped hard and let out a rush of breath. Her phone dropped down onto the counter with a crash, a half-finished Mahjong board on the screen.

  "Jesus, what are you..." she started, then trailed off as his hand moved over her hip and across her lower stomach, pushing so that her back pressed into his front.

  "Know what I noticed about this bar?" he asked, his mouth close to her ear. "This corner right here, right where we are standing... this is a blank spot in the security camera. All you can see is the corner of my shoulder. And not even the shoulder of this arm," he told her, his fingertips touching the button to her jeans.

  "Danny..."

  "No more fighting it, baby" he said, finger pushing the button through and reaching for the tab of the zipper, pulling it down slowly. "I'm going to finish what I started in that alley," he told her, teeth nipping into her earlobe as his hand slipped under the waistband of her lacy panties. "Yeah?" he asked when her breath hitched and her head fell back on his shoulder.

  "Yeah," she agreed, her voice an airy imitation of her usual confident tone.

  "Thank fuck," he growled, permission given, his hand plunging down her panties and finding her slick slit. He made a low, growling noise in his chest finding her so wet so easily, figuring she had been turned on since the kiss in the alley and finding that almost unbearably hot. A stab of desire shot to his cock, making him need to take a deep breath and remind him that while he could touch her in the bar, fucking her there was out of the question.

  He would have to wait for that.

  Until then, he had her pussy in his hand, her wetness coating his palm, and her face turned into his neck, letting out low, whimpering sounds he found way too fucking sexy, especially coming from such a controlled woman.

  His finger moved up and started circling her clit. Her hand went down and grabbed his forearm, her fingers bruising in their strength, as her hips started moving slightly, instinctively, seeking fulfillment.

  His hand shifted so his thumb took over at her clit as his forefinger moved down her slit to find the entrance to her pussy, but not pressing in. Instead, he pulsed his finger there, hinting at but not fulfilling her growing need.

  "Danny, please," she groaned, her breath warm on his neck.

  "Please what?" he asked, pressing his thumb into her clit. "Please make you come?" he asked.

  "Please make me come," she repeated, without even a hint of hesitation, no embarrassment, completely at ease demanding her pleasure.

  "Good girl," he growled, sinking his finger inside her in one smooth stroke, making her body jolt as her hips sank down.

  "Oh my God," she groaned, her hand slipping down to his wrist, trying to make sure he wouldn't pull away.

  But he had no plans on that as he slid his middle finger inside to join the other, thrusting lazily until she was squirming, her breathing erratic, her whimpers a nearly constant thing. Then and only then did he crook his fingers inside her and rake his fingers over the top wall, hitting her G-spot and making her lean back against him as her legs got shaky.

  His arm didn't go around her belly to center her though.

  Oh no.

  When he knew she was close, his hand moved up her stomach, between her breasts, over her chest, and closed around her throat, cutting off her air just seconds before the orgasm ripped through her, making it even more intense, her walls clenching around him over and over as she let out an almost pained sound despite her lack of breath.

  As they subsided, his hand gentled, but stayed there a long minute as his fingers thrust lazily again, bringing her back down slowly as she took long, slow, desperate breaths.

  He felt it as his finger slid out of her- the transition from uninhibited, needy, passionate woman to the cool, calm, collected, and completely in-control woman she usually was. It was in the way she stiffened, in the way she pulled away from him and reached down immediately to put her zip and button back into place. It was in her silence. And it was most especially in the way she turned and shoved against his shoulder as she moved past him, grabbing all the stuff he had dropped down a couple minutes before, and taking them with her as she walked out from the bar and into the kitchen where he knew she would be locking herself in the office under the guise of checking his work when what she really needed was a couple minutes to get her guards back up.

  He turned and watched her go, slipping his fingers into his mouth and tasting her, something that sent yet another jolt of desire through his system.

  All he could think was: soon.

  Soon he would have her underneath him and on top of him. He would have her on her stomach and hands and knees. He would have her looking up at him and begging to suck his cock. He would slap handprints into her ass that she would feel for hours after, any time she tried to sit down. He would have that silky hair of hers wrapped around his fist as he fucked her until she lost her breath from moaning.

  Maybe then he would be able to get her out of his fucking system so he could concentrate on the job again.

  Though there was a small, niggling little voice in the back of his head that said he was fooling himself if he thought he could get a woman like her and not want to keep her, not be willing to toss her to the side like he knew he would eventually have to do when he moved on again. As he always had to.

  A stationary life was not in his cards.

  That wasn't the job.

  And after so many years, pretty much all he was anymore was the job.

  Which was why when he knew she was occupied, he forced himself to go over and check that envelope Vin had slipped her before things got out of hand with them.

  What he found was money.

  And not just a couple twenties or a large sum of singles maybe Vin was trying to switch out or something.

  No.

  It was a medium-sized stack of hundreds still with the white and gold bank wrapper around it.

  Ten grand.

  Vin had given her ten grand in cash like it was nothing.

  And she had accepted it the same way.

  He exhaled a long breath, looking around the bar, accepting something he didn't want to about Faith.

  She was as dirty as the rest of them.

  SEVEN

  Faith

  Alright.

  It was no big deal.

  They were both adults. Experienced, mature adults.

  Who had just engaged in a finger fuck in a classy bar after hours.

  Unprofessional? Sure. Risky? Yeah. One of her top three sexual experiences? Abso-fucking-lutely.

  But no matter how unprofessional and risky and just downright stupid, it would be fine.

  First, because of the aforementi
oned experienced, mature adult thing. Second, because Vin seemed in a rush to get Danny on his own shift. Soon, she wouldn't hardly ever have to see him anymore.

  Why that caused a weird dropping sensation in her stomach, yeah, she was choosing not to consider that.

  On the plus side, the clawing, annoying, distracting sexual tension she had felt for the past several days had been lessened by that uncommonly good orgasm.

  If he was that good with just his finger...

  Yeah, no. She was not going to go there.

  They had a kiss and he fingered her and that was it. They were going to chalk it up to long nights in close quarters and a begrudging attraction on both ends and move on. There was no need for it to go any further than it already had.

  At least, that was what she was pretending to believe. And, by God, she was going to try her damnedest to make sure that was how things were.

  Which was why she stayed in that office doing bullshit tasks that didn't need to be done for over an hour, hoping he would eventually get the hint that he could leave.

  When she walked out later, both impressed and annoyed by the fact that he got the close-out right down to the very last cent, though not sure why him being good at his job was annoying aside from it maybe being yet another attractive quality he possessed, it seemed that he did take the hint and cleared out. He had even dimmed the lights so no one outside would be creepily looking in or expecting them to be open.

  On a sigh that almost sounded disappointed even to her own darn ears, she went behind the bar to fetch her jacket. She slipped it on and reached for her purse. But she took the envelope of money and stuffed it into her boot. If she ever got mugged, she didn't want someone getting that kind of money off of her.

  With that, she headed out the front door, turning and locking it.

  Then just about jumping out of her skin when she heard a voice right to her side.

  "You done avoiding me now?" Danny's voice asked, calm, almost amused. And when she turned her head to look at him, he was smirking, leaning against the building, leg cocked back on the brick, looking like he had been there a good long while and was okay having to stand there a while more if needed.

  "I wasn't avoiding you. I was doing some work."

  It wasn't a lie. And even if it was, he wouldn't know. She had learned from some of the best how to lie through her teeth and not get caught.

  "Bullshit, sweetheart. You were just as happy as I was at the idea of getting out of here early before Vin told you to stay behind. Anything you were doing in that office could have waited until tomorrow."

  "I'm used to not working Mondays. So I try to get everything I need to get done finished by the end of my shift on Sunday."

  "You know," he said, dark eyes penetrating. She actually squirmed it was so intense. "You half-lie better than most seasoned professionals ever could."

  Damn he was good.

  So instead of continuing to engage him on the subject which she knew she would only have to keep telling half-truths about and that he would see right through them, she changed tactics.

  "Why are you still here?"

  "Because it's fucking three in the morning."

  "And..." she said, waving a hand, brows drawn together.

  "And you're..."

  "A woman," she finished for him, shaking her head. "I am a woman with eight years of Krav Maga training and several more of mixed martial arts. The scariest person on these streets at three AM isn't some random whack job. It's me."

  "Won't argue with that, babe. Though I don't know enough about your skills to agree or not." If she wasn't mistaken, she was pretty sure he was purposely trying to get a rise out of her.

  "You and me. Anytime. I bet I wipe the floor with you."

  "Baby, you and me get anywhere near a floor or bed or chair or fucking dark alley somewhere and the last fucking thing we will be doing is martial arts." His smile went wicked then as he pushed off the wall. "Unless, of course, that's how you get your foreplay on. In which case, I'd be happy to toss you around for a while."

  An almost comically strong surge of desire sparked low in her belly at that, making her seriously want to give it a try. The way adrenaline got surging when you were sparring made her genuinely want to know how it would feel to mix that with the intense desire she felt for him and see where that might lead.

  She had a feeling it would be the sex of a lifetime.

  Too bad it wasn't going to happen.

  "Alright, I'm too tired for this," she said, shaking her head and turning to walk away. "Have a nice night, Danny."

  She got maybe five feet before he moved in beside her.

  Stopping, she turned to him. "What are you doing?"

  "Walking you home," he said casually, hands tucking into his front pockets.

  "I don't need you to walk me home."

  "Probably not, but I'm doing it anyway."

  "Has anyone ever told you that you're a pain in the ass?"

  "I have a feeling I will hear it from you constantly."

  Faith exhaled and started walking again, faster. She figured the less time she had to spend near him, the better. Especially if her plan to keep him at a distance was going to succeed.

  "Alright, this is me," she said several minutes of silence that she found incredibly tense while he seemed fully at ease later as she stopped outside her apartment building.

  "Nice."

  "So you can go."

  "I could. But I'm walking you in."

  "You can't be serious."

  "And yet I am."

  "The door is locked."

  "Still walking you to your door, Faith. Like it or not."

  She made a deep, growling noise as she fished her keys out of her pocket and walked toward the door. "I thought you said you weren't a good guy."

  "I'm not," he agreed, reaching above her head when she unlocked the door to hold it open for her. "But I'm a decent human being. And decent human beings make sure that women out on their own in a dangerous city at three AM make it inside their apartments in one piece."

  "You're not getting inside," she clarified, going toward the staircase and wondering why the hell she didn't just swallow her fear of plummeting to her death and take the elevator. It was small and closed in and unsafe, sure, but it was faster.

  "I wasn't expecting to," he said without a hesitation. "Though I think we both know I will be getting in there eventually," he told her as they started climbing.

  The way he said it, it almost made it sound like a premonition, like it was something they couldn't change.

  And maybe a small, or even slightly larger than small, part of her was becoming comfortable with that idea.

  Really, what was the harm?

  He would be on his own shift in no time. Even if things went south hard and fast, she would only have to deal with him on the occasional weekend shift or at work meetings.

  "What?" he asked when her gaze slid to his, looking at his strong, obnoxiously perfect profile until his head turned to look at her.

  "I think I'm done wearing my bitch mask," she surprised herself by saying. It wasn't often that she let on that she was anything other than the persona she showed to the world, the carefully crafted badass who no one from the mob boss Vin to the sleaze ball pick pockets or rapists on the streets at night would ever want to fuck with.

  She was smart.

  She was capable.

  She was in-control.

  And she was that way because that was how she had to be.

  That was how she got by.

  It was how she stayed alive and protected a secret that had men like Vin bow and kowtowing to her- just a nobody, just a girl, just someone who thought on her feet and knew how to throw a punch.

  But that wasn't all there was.

  If that was all there was, she wouldn't be someone anyone wanted to know. There were other parts of her, parts that she would occasionally show to the very small, very select handful of friends she had accumulated over the yea
rs. Namely- Xander, Gabe, Corey, and, more recently, K, along with the guys from the gym she trained at. That was it. That was her circle, her safe zone. And they were that because they all came from equally fucked up backgrounds, making them all need to put on a mask every day to face the world too.

  But there were times when that wasn't enough.

  They all had their own lives.

  They all had their own issues to overcome.

  They all had their own masks to put on and peel off, secrets to protect, walls to build.

  And they couldn't be the only people she ever felt comfortable enough around to open up, to let loose a little.

  Why she felt that she wanted that person to be Danny, yeah, that was beyond her. Especially seeing as she had never even opened up to long-term partners before. They all eventually just got sick of her distance, of her bark and bite, of her refusal to show them any depth. And those were the ones she let into her life in any kind of lasting way to begin with. Which was about three of them ever. None seemed to make it past the year mark.

  She didn't even blame them.

  They probably wouldn't have lasted two weeks if they were as secretive as she was.

  "Oh yeah?" Danny asked, stopping at the top landing of the stairs and blocking her way, leaving her one step below and angling her head up to look at him.

  "Yeah," she agreed, feeling an odd calmness settle in her despite it being a pretty monumental moment for her. She should have been anxious, worried, uncomfortable. But she didn't feel that way. For reasons that were completely inexplicable, she felt relaxed, safe, and like she could trust Danny with all the parts of her. Why she felt that way when she had known him all of five days and had spent most of that time trying to avoid him, not get close to him, was beyond her.

  "You trust me, huh?" he asked and if she had been paying closer attention to such things, she would have heard a hint of sadness in his voice at that.

  "Until you give me a reason not to," she said truthfully, not the kind of woman to sugarcoat the truth or give anything blindly and without conditions.

  "That's fair," he agreed, reaching down and snagging the lapels of her jacket, pulling until she fumbled up the last step separating them. "So this is happening."