GO LONG (41 page)

"Nev? Come with me?"

My boss was watching. I could tell by the look in his eyes that I was fired. I stepped around the writhing body on the concrete and put my hand in Clay's.

What else could I do?

Chapter Eighteen

Clay

"Ouch! Careful Nev!"

I was bitching, but I was loving this. We were sitting on my car down by the lake. We'd stopped at a convenience store for first aid and a six-pack of beer.

She gave me a look that clearly said 'hold still and shut up' so I did. I did love being tended to by such a pretty nurse. I had a few cuts and scrapes from tangling with Matt but it was mostly my hand that was messed up.

I'd hurt it where I'd smashed his stupid face.

It was so, so worth it though.

So far it was a very good day. Winning the tournament was just the icing on the cake. No, the best part was that Nevada was here.

Talking to me.

Not hating me.

Even though she should.

I took her hand away from my face and kissed the inside of her wrist. She stared at me, clearly not sure if she was going to let me kiss her. I stared at her lips hungrily.

And then she sighed.

I was in. I knew it. Triumph filled my chest.

I fucking heard trumpets.

I pulled her between my legs and leaned down. I kissed her slow at first, holding her tight. But then the kissed deepened.

I grunted, already feeling my cock engorge with blood.

It was a while later when I lifted my head, pulling her face to my chest. I just held her for a while. I was feeling supremely excellent, all things considered.

But I had one major problem.

No bed.

"Nev, can I take you somewhere?"

She lifted her cheek from my chest and stared at me.

"I don't know if that's a good idea Clay. Besides, where would we go?"

I smiled at her hopefully.

"A hotel?"

She rolled her eyes at me.

"As long as it's not the Sunset Inn."

I brushed her hair away from her face and nodded. I picked up my phone and found a five star hotel about twenty minutes away. I opened her door for her and jumped into the drivers seat.

I drove to the hotel like devil was on my tail. Maybe he was. Not being with her this week, not knowing if I'd ever get to hold her again, well to me, that was hell.

Nevada

I looked around the swanky hotel room. There was a king sized bed, as well as a seating area with a gas fireplace. The balcony looked out over the countryside with a spectacular sunset.

Clay came up behind me and started kissing my neck, sliding his hands all over me.

I sighed. I knew it was wrong to be meeting him like this. To be here.

But I couldn't help it. I could not resist him. I could not resist his touch.

This was inevitable.

But it was the last time.

Maybe that's why it was so different. He was touching me so gently, so tenderly. I'd always wondered what the difference between fucking and making love was.

Now I knew.

Slowly, he undressed me. I was wearing my club uniform so it should have been quick but it wasn't. He kissed each inch of my skin as it came into view.

Then he started to touch me, tease me, like only he knew how to do. I knew I would never feel anything like this again, so I tried to savor it, to memorize the feelings.

But it was too hard to concentrate on anything. He lingered over me endlessly, making me climax twice with his hands and mouth. When he finally slid inside me, I was so ready, so turned on, that I came instantly.

I shuddered as he began his slow assault on my senses. Featherlight touches as he held himself above me, driving his cock into me again and again. He moved with precision, each thrust ending with an upward tilt of his hips, until the tip of his cock touched my womb.

I arched off the bed as I came again and he shifted positions, sitting up and dragging my hips to meet his. Now he was rocking his hips in small circles as he dragged his fingertips over my chest and stomach. I felt another orgasm approaching and he shifted again, finally laying on top of me.

Now things changed for real. I'd thought it was intense before but now- now he was fucking me and making love at the same time.

Hard but tender.

Rough but true.

I must have passed out during my final climax. The last thing I remembered was Clay above me, his head thrown back as he convulsed on top of me. I'd never seen him so vulnerable.

As I lay there next to his sleeping body, I realized how much that scared me.

Clay was never going to let me go.

He wasn't just gaming me.

And if I let him keep me- if I stayed- I would forever be his poor little piece of ass from the wrong side of the tracks.

I needed to make my way on my own. I couldn't let him pay for school. He'd signed his tournament check over to me despite my protests. I stared at it on the bedside table. Then I padded over to the desk to write him a note.

It was time to wake up from this dream.

I had work to do.

Chapter Nineteen

Clay

I still could not believe it. I still could not believe she had left me there. Alone. After the night we had shared. With just a short note, sitting on top of the check I'd tried to give her.

Thanks for the offer but I will pass

Try not to bash anyone's face in hot stuff

Goodbye,

Nevada

I clenched my fists behind my back. I was in the back of a cop car. The same cop car that had been waiting for me when I drove home, out of my mind from her note. We'd been sitting here for an hour, while my dad tried to get the cops to let me go.

It wasn't working.

I watched as my father shook hands with the police and walked over to the car.

"I'll be right behind you Clay."

I nodded. It was hard to believe his sudden interest in my well being. I could understand him wanting to avoid the embarrassment, sure. But this mess was all his fault to begin with.

Well, most of it.

Maybe not the face bashing part.

That was all me.

I was processed rapidly, with what had to be more courtesy than the common criminal received. That probably had something to do with my father and his attorney looming in the waiting room in suits that cost more than some of these guys made in a month.

There was something about crazy money that just intimidated people.

Finally I was uncuffed and fingerprinted. I stared at my ink stained hands. Just a few hours ago, I'd been touching the most beautiful girl in the world with these hands.

And now she was gone. And I was in jail. I almost laughed at the cruel irony.

It was an hour later before they came to get me from the holding cell to talk to the lawyer. Stan was an okay guy for a suit. He and my dad had been friends forever. He'd always been nice to me. I knew he was giving me straight advice.

I had to cop to public nuisance but deny the battery charges. Deny deny deny. Matt had it coming so I felt zero compunction lying about who had thrown the first punch.

Actually, Matt had thrown the first punch. After I'd steamrolled him into a dumpster. So, it was all good. Nobody had seen the fight begin except Nevada.

Not that I was going to drag her into this.

Finally, Stan stood up and shook my father's hand. Dear old dad stayed behind, leaning on the back of one of the chairs.

"What the hell is wrong with you son?"

I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms.

"That little fucker messed with Nev."

"What do you mean? Is she alright?"

My dad had perked right the fuck up when I mentioned Nevada. Interesting.
 

"He was groping her and called her some nasty names. So I intervened."

He hung his head, exhaling. Then he looked up again. Desperation was all over his face.

"You've seen her? How are they?"

"Dana won't call you back huh?"

My father shook his head sadly.

"I really fucked things up son. I only hope you don't make the same mistakes I did."

I held up my hands.

"Actually, I think it may be too late for that. Nevada told me to go to hell more or less."

"But you know where they are?"

I nodded.

He slapped the back of his chair.

"Okay. As soon as they let you out of here, let's go get them."

Nevada

I hoisted the tray over my head, weaving my way through the low tables. All the seats here were in sunken pits. The men sat there and watched us parade around them.

I guess the view was better from that angle or something.

Or it kept them in their place. It didn't stop the clientele from acting like pigs though.

I fought back a wave of disgust as someone tried to stuff a twenty dollar tip down my cleavage.
 

"Why don't you get up there honey? You'd be great."

I just smiled blankly and thought about how that money could go towards furniture for our new apartment. Or community college. Grin and bear it. That was my only choice.

I was the one who had taken a job in a strip club after all.

What the hell was I expecting?

This was the best I could do. Maybe for the rest of my life. If I couldn't finish school, what better did I have to hope for?

No. I was going to beat this. And I was going to save enough to do community college at the very least. I might have to start in the middle of the year but so be it. I would go and I would finish.

Someday.

I just hoped I could keep it together the next time one of these creeps tried to touch me.

So far, I'd only been here a few days and I'd already had to stop myself from slugging at least ten guys.

At least the tips were good. And they hadn't asked for a resume. After pounding the pavement for almost a week I'd finally walked in the door of Sheila's Palace. The name was awful but the decor was actually kind of nice. Not that you could see it during open hours.
 

They'd taken one look at me and hired me on the spot. The owner Shelia told me right off the bat that my pay was two dollars an hour plus tips. I'd almost walked out.

And then she'd told me what kind of tips I could expect. Basically, I'd make in a night what it took me a week to make at the club. Not enough to pay my tuition but maybe enough to go to a local school. Get a few credits in the fall.

It was better than nothing.

A lot better than nothing.

Minus the creeps of course.

And I didn't have to do anything untoward. Or flirt even. In fact, Sheila had warned me against it. Not because it was bad for business. Just because it would piss the other girls off.

They were more important than I was.

I kept my clothes on.

I sighed and went into the back to take a quick break. Anything to just not be stared at for five minutes. It was weird, how tiring it was to feel eyeballs on you all the time.

Especially since they were almost all old enough to be my dad.

Hell, my dad could actually be out there for all I knew.

I sure as shit wouldn't recognize him.

I cringed at the bitterness in my thoughts. I was already turning into one of these women. Flat eyed and tired. Cynical.

I stood in the hallway with my eyes closed.

"It gets easier."

I opened my eyes and one of the older girls was standing there. Barbara I think. But on stage, she was Bambi. It was ridiculous. Sad. Pathetic.

But her eyes were kind.

"They hassling you?"

I shrugged.

"You know you could make triple the money at least if you got up on the stage. You would blow most of these other bitches away."

I knew she meant it as a compliment. But it was the last thing I wanted to hear at the moment.

"I don't think I could do it. Thanks though."

"Hey, you know what makes it a lot easier?"

"No, what?"

She pulled me into the dressing room and held up a bottle of tequila. The good stuff too. Clear, not yellow. And not a brand I'd heard of before.

Which basically meant it was fancy as hell.

"Mother's milk!"

I watched numbly as she poured out two shots into dixie cups.

She handed me mine and I took it. I didn't want to offend her. Besides, its not like I had to drive home.

I could ride a bike after a drink or two.

Haha.

That was almost funny.

I downed the shot. And the next one she handed me. Then I thanked her and headed back to the floor. Another guy reached out to touch me as I passed his table and I wiggled out of the way, giggling.

Bambi was right.

Mother's milk was a huge fucking help.

Chapter Twenty

Clay

I sat in the darkest part of the club waiting. I knew she was here. I didn't want to believe it but I fucking knew it was true.

After all, the private investigator I'd hired had told me so. Even showed me a picture of Nevada tottering around in high heels and a skimpy cocktail waitress uniform.

With too much makeup on her young and pretty face, she'd looked like a child playing dress up. But her body was all woman. She'd get eaten alive in that outfit.

It had cut me like a knife.

My father and I had gone to the motel, but Dana and Nevada were long gone. The clerk had been unhelpful once again. So had calling around to the other inexpensive places to stay.

It had been weird to see my dad in a place like that. Cheap. Shoddy. But even weirder had been the look of worry on his face.

He actually fucking cared about her.

Like, a lot.

We'd gone home and shared a bottle of booze.

The next day, I'd hired a private detective- with my dad's blessing.

It had led me here. Nevada was working in a fucking strip joint. Not as a dancer, but still... My blood boiled as I sat there. She wouldn't take my money, but this was okay?

Half-naked women were everywhere but I barely even saw them. I was looking at the men in the place. Wondering if they'd touched her. Talked to her. Tried anything.