His to Punish (The Cleaners Book 2) (2 page)

Which was a completely alien concept for her. Jeanette McArthur didn’t bow to any male not after having witnessed both her mum and little sister fall into that trap. It had turned her mother into a drunken crack addict, and as for her sister…

The old hurt, which had been ripped wide open with recent events, made breathing even more difficult, and Jeanette forced herself to concentrate on what Owen Huntly was saying to her. He’d asked her a question, hadn’t he? She wanted, no, needed this job, if she was to accomplish what she had come here to do, and pissing off the influential owner of La Masquerade any more than she already had with her prickly attitude would not get her a job and the
in
she was looking for.

“Jeanette … sir.” Belatedly she added that respectful title, and Ty Mason swore under his breath. Jeanette had to grab hold onto the pole, because seeing him adjusting what looked like a sizable erection in seeming reaction to her words, did strange things to her equilibrium. Not for the life of her would she give him the satisfaction to know that he was getting to her, but, judging by the sinful smirk which kicked up the corners of his mouth, he already knew. Damn it all to hell and back. This would just complicate things even further. Belatedly she realized she was still staring at his groin, and fighting the hot blush creeping up her neck, she wrenched her gaze away from Ty’s brooding presence and looked toward Huntly indeed.

Seeming amusement crinkled up the corners of the club owner’s steel grey eyes. They lost most of their earlier frostiness as a result of that devastatingly charming smile, and against her better judgment Jeanette found herself smiling back at him.  She didn’t have the immediate, visceral reaction to this man as she had to Ty Mason, but there was no denying that Owen Huntly was sinfully attractive and charismatic in his own right.

And deadly, don’t forget that. He’s a criminal. They all are, and you’ve entered the lions’ den.

Her mother’s warning, given in one of her rare lucid moments, rang in Jeanette’s ears, and she forced her raging hormones back into submission. At least now she understood why her little sis had thrown away her promising career in the Royal Ballet to pursue her pole dancing. Even if she had followed a man and got tangled up in the criminal underbelly as a result.

“Jeanette who, girl?” Huntly asked, and she swallowed hard as he leaned forward to study her.

“Jeanette McArthur, sir.”

Huntly’s eyes drew together in a frown, and he stapled his hands in front of his face again, while he leaned his elbows on his thighs. It was disconcerting to be under such close scrutiny, and when he smiled, seemingly having come to some form of conclusion, she pulled a much needed breath into her constricted lungs.

“You remind me of someone. Well, your dancing does. She was classically trained. I am guessing you are, too?”

This was dangerous territory to get into, because if Huntly drew the obvious conclusion, then lord only knew what he would do to her.

Not trusting her voice to not give away how nervous she was, Jeanette simply nodded.

“So, why are you not pursuing a career in that field, if you don’t mind me asking?” As politely phrased as that question was, Jeanette recognized the inherent threat. Lying would never do. Besides, she didn’t have to about this, at least.

“I grew too tall, and I became a dance teacher instead, but it doesn’t pay well.”

Huntly’s smile in answer didn’t reach his eyes, and a cold shiver ran down Jeanette’s spine as he let his gaze roam over her body in a leisurely appraisal that made her feel as though she was standing naked in front of him.

“You do realize that the real money in my club doesn’t lie in just dancing, right? Are you prepared for that?”

“No… I mean yes … maybe.”  Jeanette corrected herself, as Huntly’s eyebrows rose, and Ty shook his head. He didn’t look pleased with her answer, and for some strange reason that bothered her.

“Which one is it, girl. Yes? No? Or maybe? It’ll affect the terms of the contract I’ll offer you, so I need to know a definite answer.”

Hope swelled in Jeanette’s chest at those words.

“Does that mean I passed the audition and you’re offering me a job?”

Huntly smiled again and nodded toward Ty.

“What do you think? Is she good enough to dance in the club, Mason?”

Chapter Two

Ty barely hid his amusement as Jeanette’s head spun round toward him with a speed that should have put her at risk of whiplash.  She tried to stare him down, but eventually dropped her gaze to his collarbone. It clearly cost her to do so, because a deep frown creased her forehead, and she wrapped her arms around herself in a defensive move, which pulled at his heartstrings.

She’d exuded sex appeal and confidence when dancing. Right now, however, she looked nervous, if not to say frightened stiff, her body held rigid, as though she was afraid to break down.

Ty exchanged a glance with Owen, and he read the same puzzlement in the club owner’s eyes.

“You’re leaving this up to me, boss?” Ty finally said. “Not wanting a taste yourself?”

That brought the girl’s head back up, and her sharp intake of breath seemed far too loud in the stillness of the room.

Owen smirked and shrugged.

“Not after the last time. No point getting attached, and besides, I’ve got my hands full with other things.”

A shadow crossed Owen Huntly’s features. It was a mere flash of emotion, so brief Ty would have missed it, had he blinked, but it made Ty wonder just how far Huntly’s attachment to Myrtle had reached. Everyone knew he’d plucked her off the streets and made her into the success she had been, before he’d given the orders to kill her, but maybe … just maybe that cost him more than he’d let on.

“If you’re sure, boss.”

At Huntly’s curt nod, Ty smiled and turned his attention back to the woman on stage.

“In that case, I’d say we have to test the theory.” One effortless jump meant he was back on stage, and Jeanette swallowed hard, taking several steps away until the pole stopped her. Using his superior body height to his advantage, he crowded her against the shiny object. Her eyes widened when she appeared to notice his erection digging into the juncture of her thighs. It made him smile, because with her killer heels on she was just the right height to fuck.

His cock twitched at the thought, and a gasp escaped his prey. It was a matter of moments for him to grasp her delicate wrists, and pin her arms high above her head. The action pushed her impressive rack further out and into his chest, her nipples hard little points, digging into his chest. He dipped his head to lick across the rapidly beating pulse point in her neck, and her sweet and far too addictive flavor exploded on his taste buds. She tasted of caramel, with a hint of sweat and coconut oil, which conjured all sorts of images. It was, after all, his favorite kind of lube to use.

“Please, don’t.”

Her breathless plea stopped him from exploring the far too enticing curve of her neck further. He inhaled deeply and then brought his head up to study her.

“Don’t what, titch?”

He smirked at her reaction, because that frown was back and she did her best to glare at him.

“What did you just call me?”

Ty tightened his hold on her wrists when she pulled against him, and she glared some more at his laughter.

“What? Titch?”

“Yes, that. I’m not small. Were you not listening when I told your boss I got too tall for ballet?”

Ty smirked and threw a glance toward Huntly.

“Oh, I was listening all right. You also said you knew what the other side of being one of his dancers entails, so it’s time to test the theory. Can’t let you loose on our clients, without ensuring you’re up to the task,
titch.
”

She blanched under her mocha skin and shook her head.

“I’m not a titch.”

“Well, you are to me. Stop struggling, girl, you’ll only hurt yourself. Then again, maybe you’d like me to hurt you?”

Instead of succumbing to him, Jeanette struggled more. He blocked her move to bring her stiletto down on his toes, by simply picking her up and swinging her over his shoulder.

Owen laughed, and his prey screeched like a banshee.

“Let me go, you can’t do this, damn you. I’m not one of your whores.”

Ty brought his hand down on the delectable ass next to his head, while maintaining a firm clamp on her legs to stop her from flailing about. Nothing he could do about the fists pummeling his back. She packed quite a punch, too, and his dick hardened further at the thought of taming all that passion. This woman would be a hellcat in bed, of that he was sure.

“Not yet, you’re not, you mean, and perhaps you won’t ever be. After all, you might be no good at it. Now stop hitting me, girl, or I’ll be forced to tie you up. As much as I’d enjoy that, I don’t want to be drawing too much attention to ourselves when we leave. Usual protocol, boss?”

He swatted Jeanette’s ass a few more times, and while she continued to struggle, the sweet musk of aroused woman also hit his nostrils. She might act all outraged, but she wanted him, that was for sure.

“Yep, take her to the Cleaners’ house and report back when you’re done. Unless the lady has changed her mind about dancing for me?”

Owen’s amusement showed in his voice, and Jeanette gave an exasperated huff.

“I haven’t, but I object to being manhandled like sack of potatoes by your goon …
sir
.”

The pause before she added that title made it sound anything but respectful, and Ty chuckled to himself, while he ran his hand slowly over the curve of her butt and pinched the crease where her ass met her thigh.

“Ow, that hurt. Put me the hell down.”

At Owen’s nod, Ty slowly slid her down his front, enjoying the feel of her soft curves sliding along the hard planes of his body. She was all soft and round, and judging by the blush that darkened her skin, she enjoyed that sensual slide as much as he did.

“That, titch, was a mere kiss compared to what I have planned for you,” he said.

Jeanette bit her lip, her pearly whites a delightful contrast to her dark skin, and Ty indulged his need to keep on touching this woman by tracing his thumb across her jaw. He then pulled her full, succulent lips away from danger. Ty let that digit linger, again fascinated by the softness under his calloused pad, and he didn’t miss the shiver of awareness that made goosebumps appear on his girl’s skin. And she so was his, regardless of what she might have to say about it.

This chemistry they shared was too potent not to explore, and then there was the underlying current of animosity he sensed, directed at Ren. The man himself had reappeared from out back. When he seemed to notice her reaction to him, he stopped in the middle of tucking his shirt back in his jeans. Ren crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the wall and quirked a silent eyebrow in query.

That earlier itch crawled back up Ty’s spine, and he turned his attention to the woman in front of him.

“I promise you’ll enjoy yourself. After all, if I went to investigate that sweet cunt of yours, I bet I’d find it nice and juicy.”

Jeanette swung her gaze back to his, and if looks could kill he’d be six feet under already.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said.

Ty slid his hand down to her throat, and she stiffened when he tightened his hold. Not enough to cut off her air supply—yet—but it was a silent warning nonetheless. One she heeded beautifully, because she went very still.

“Good girl.” Ty whispered the words and leaning in closer, dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. She went cross eyed trying to keep her focus on him, and her breathing grew shallow.

“Besides, I can smell how wet you are for me, so be a good girl and stop fighting this. I’ll take you one way or the other, but it will be much easier on you if you simply comply.”

Having made his point he released her, satisfied to see her make a grab for the pole, as though her legs couldn’t quite support her weight right now. She groaned when Owen addressed her.

“So, let me ask you this again. It is a yes, no, or maybe still, to the other duties which will be required of you in my club, girl?”

****

Damn it all to hell and back.

Jeanette inwardly cursed a blue streak any sailor would have been proud of while she desperately tried to keep her composure on the outside. She forced herself to let go of the white knuckled grip she had on the pole, and pulled a much needed breath into her oxygen starved lungs. Why, oh, why did she have to meet someone like this Ty here? Like it or not, he made every feminine cell in her body sing, and rather than be disgusted by this caveman possessiveness he exhibited toward her, she w
as
turned on beyond measure.

It wouldn’t do, this insane attraction. For all she knew he’d had a hand in her sister’s demise, and she should want to scratch his eyes out, not fall at his damn feet.

“Answer me, girl.”

Startled by the club owner’s harsh tone of voice, Jeanette told her brain to
shut the fuck up.

“It’s still a maybe, sir, sorry, and I fail to see why I have to go anywhere with
him.”

She risked a glance up at Ty Mason, and instantly wished she hadn’t. The glittering intensity in his dark eyes, his entire focus seemingly on her, was most disconcerting. It made her want to throw caution to the wind, and to simply take what he offered. Besides, this was the
in
she needed, wasn’t it?

It took immense effort to break their stare, and shaking her head, she addressed Owen.

“Why do I have to go someone’s house? I have my own home. I don’t need to—”

“The job comes with live-in accommodation here at the club. If, and I say
if
Ty deems you worthy, then here is where you’ll be expected to live and
entertain.
” He paused as if to make sure his words sank in, and when she simply continued to stare at him, he smiled.

“It’s for your own safety, girl. I look after the girls who work for me, and experience tells me this is the best way. There are exceptions to that rule, of course, especially, once you’ve proven your loyalty to us. Until that point, you’ll be assigned to one of the Cleaners.” He nodded toward Ty. “As Mason wants you, you’re his. Those are my terms. Accept them or walk out and never darken my club doors again.”

Ren moved closer, seemingly intent on helping to evacuate her from the building, and the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“If this is all to keep your girls
safe
, as you put it…” The club owner’s eyebrows rose at the intonation she’d unwillingly put on that word. She knew she shouldn’t carry on, but seeing Ren strut his stuff, made her want to hurl something at him, and meant she threw caution to the wind. “Then why did that dancer end up as fish food in the canal, if you don’t mind me asking, that is … I mean?” She couldn’t continue, because Huntly grew tense, and she realized she was so overstepping the mark here.

Ty stepped closer to her, and she winced at the iron band his fingers formed around her elbow. He yanked her back against his solid frame, and when she looked up at him, his expression had turned into a closed off mask. His dark eyes glittered with dangerous intent, and for the first time she truly felt afraid.

What are you doing? These men are killers. Why are you antagonizing them?

The little voice in her head taunted her, only to be interrupted by the club owner’s cool voice.

“Which dancer would you be referring to, girl?”

Jeanette tried to push away from the quiet menace Ty presented right now, but she should have known that would prove a useless exercise, because her other elbow was grasped in a viselike grip, which would surely leave fingerprint  bruises behind on her skin.

“I’d answer him, girl.”

Ren’s deep, commanding drawl brought her attention back to him, and she swallowed hard. Standing perfectly still, his head cocked to one side, he was watching her every move. Coiled, ready to strike like a deadly snake stalking its prey, he looked as though he’d earned every one of the rumors surrounding him. Unwittingly her gaze strayed to his large hands. Held loosely next to his denim clad thighs, they brought her reality home more than anything could have done. Everyone knew Ren killed with his hands, and Jeanette swallowed convulsively to stop herself from being sick.

Ty’s fingers dug deeper into her arms, and his hot breath ghosted across her jawline as he spoke to her.

“You’re testing our patience, titch. Start talking, or so help me, I’ll make you talk.”

The inherent threat in those softly delivered words for her ears only shouldn’t make her heart beat faster in excitement. It really shouldn’t. Yet, held up by the strength of the male, hard body surrounding her, his scent invading her nostrils, and the stubble on his jaw creating delicious shivers of awareness to chase each other across her skin,  that’s exactly what was happening. All of her senses seemed heightened by the dangerous atmosphere she found herself in. It was crazy. That’s what this was, but in a strange way it helped her understand the path her sister had chosen a little better. Myr had always gone for the bad boys, sought the next adventure, and it had driven a wedge between them when they were growing up.

Now, well now it was all too late, but Jeanette could do this small thing for her to make amends. To right a wrong, and to seek revenge.