Raw: The Ultimate Mc Collection (41 page)

And then…I convinced myself that even if Slade had some sort of magical skills in bed, he certainly wasn’t boyfriend material.

So, I forgot about him.

Well, I tried.

What I really did was think about him all the time.

What I really did was restrain myself from dialing his number at least three times a day.

What I really did was conjure up his face in those delicate, silent moments at the end of the day when I was alone in my bed, and the only way my body would allow me to sleep would be to give in to the memory of that one night with Slade, and pretend my fingers were his, while I remembered the feel of his heart beating against me, the sound of his voice as he gently coaxed me to those edges, to the magic place, just one more time.

***

Once you crossed the threshold of the Kit Kat Klub, heavy velvet curtains blocked out all sounds of the chaotic Old Town outside the doors.

And in spite of the loud, pulsating music, you were transported back in time.

Swanky, padded velvet booths lined the mirrored walls, the lights dimmed low above them.  Inside a cut-out above the booths, three beautiful, completely naked, and heavily tattooed women danced in impossibly tall high heels.  They looked as if they were dancing on a shelf.  The effect was delightful, mesmerizing, and I had to remind myself to put one foot in front of the other, instead of staring up at them in awe.

A bar - a long, elaborately carved, wooden masterpiece - was slung along the far wall.  I scanned the room quickly, and sat down at the first small, empty table that I found.

A quick look around let me know I was the only single lady in the club.  I figured that would be the case.  It wasn’t being a woman at the strip club that bothered me.  It was the way the men looked at you right away.  Sizing you up, trying to see if you were a dancer, too, or at least up for a good time.  So, for that reason, I was uncomfortable.  Even though the feminist in me hated to admit it, I would have been safer to have a man with me.  There were certain times you were more likely to be harassed if you were a single woman, and I wasn’t so naive that I knew this wasn’t one of those times.

Right away, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.  I felt several pairs of eyes turn my way and I made sure not to meet any of them.

I was grateful to see the youthful smile of the cocktail waitress appear at my side.

“Hi, darlin’, what’ll you have?”  she asked.  Her long black hair hung in waves down her tan back.  Her black halter top plummeted to a sharp v in the middle of her torso, exposing so much cleavage, it left nothing to my imagination.  I smiled in appreciation and lifted my gaze to hers.

“I’ll have a margarita, please,” I replied.  “And um…can I ask you a question?”

She cocked her head, and gave me a quick half-smile.

“Sure, what’s up?” she asked.

“I’m looking for some information.  On Evie?  She’s my sister…,” my voice trailed off.  I had decided to try the sister angle, instead of admit I was a reporter.

“Oh! Evie! Yes, we all love her!  She’s your sister?”  she asked, her eyes looking at me full of sympathy.

“Yes, she is…I, well, I’m just trying to find out anything about her.  Any friends she has at work?  A boyfriend?  We weren’t too close,” I said.

“You should talk to Sapphire.”

“Sapphire?” I asked.

“She’s best friends with Evie.”

“Oh! Is she here?” I asked.

“Yep.  She’ll be out in a few, darlin’.  I’ll be right back with that drink.  And I’m so sorry about Evie.”  She smiled, her green eyes shining in stark contrast to the heavy black eyeliner smeared around her eyes.   I couldn’t help but let my gaze fall to her perfectly accentuated ass as she walked away.  The short, cut-off jean shorts she was wearing only highlighted her long, tan legs.

As she disappeared behind the bar, I scanned the room again.  Almost every table and booth was taken, the clientele a mixture of couples and groups of men, with a handful of single men amongst them.

The lights lowered, and the music faded as the MC’s voice began bellowing through the speakers.

“She’s naughty.  She’s nice.  And she’s ready to get your blood pumping! Put your hands together and give a warm welcome to the one, the only…Sapphire Rose!”

A spotlight lit up the stage, and a tall blonde woman strutted up the few stairs on the side of the stage and clasped the pole in the middle, swinging the entire weight of her body around the pole, and then turning herself completely upside down, holding herself up by some incredibly strong biceps that were flexing impressively.  I watched in awe as she rotated around the pole, flinging her body in every direction with ease as she demonstrated the intense core control that was required for such maneuvers.

It was several moments before I realized just how naked she really was.  In Oregon, all the strip clubs are nude.  Not g-string nude, or pasties nude - no, I mean, naked-as-the-day-you-were-born nude. Sapphire Rose started out her set very close to nude, and she ended it totally nude.  In between, she showed the men sitting at the rack every inch of her skin.  Every inch.  Even that inch.

I had to admit, she was sexy.  It was undeniable.  Strong, lithe, youthful and beautiful…her long blonde hair hung in waves, and yet somehow, even after hanging upside down and flying around the pole at record speed, it remained perfectly styled, without a strand out of place.  She was the all-American classic beauty with strikingly blue eyes, hypnotizing, even from the distance between the stage and my table.

So much so, that I didn’t even notice when the waitress brought my drink.  It seemed to just appear in front of me.  Thankfully, it was absolutely delicious, and during the two songs that I watched Sapphire perform, I downed more than half of it.

By the time she was finished, I was caught up in the overwhelmingly sensual energy she had created in the room and I had to remind myself that I was here on business.

When she began picking up the piles of cash that had been thrown at her feet, I realized she was about to leave the stage.  I picked up my drink and slowly made my way over to the side of the stage to wait for her.

She smiled as she walked past me, the air filled with the smell of sweet jasmine.  I inhaled and turned around before calling her name.

“Sapphire?” I asked.

She turned to me, the smile still on her face, her skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

“Yes?” she arched a brow inquisitively.

“The waitress told me I should talk to you.  I’m Evie’s sister?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed.  Her smile faded and her big blue eyes filled with tears.  Quickly, she closed the space between us and threw her arms around me.  I froze in place, her naked breasts smashed between us.  I lifted my arms to awkwardly pat her sweaty back, as she trembled against me.

When she pulled away, mascara-filled tears were sliding down her face.

“I just can’t believe she’s missing!”  she said, wiping her tears with a wad of dollar bills in her fist.  “I mean, it’s Evie!  Everyone loved Evie!”

“Well, she’s not dead…,” my voice trailed off. 

“Oh, no, no…I know.  Have you heard anything?”

“Well, no, that’s why I was coming here…to ask you.”  I was having a very hard time not staring at her naked breasts.  “Listen, is there somewhere we can go to talk?”

“Sure, sure,” she said, grabbing my hand and leading me to the back of the club.  She led me to a corner booth that had a curtain around it.  She pulled it aside and motioned for me to sit down.

She pulled the curtain closed behind her as I sat down.  She stood in front of me, then placed her knees on each side of my thighs, her breasts pushed into my face.

“Um…” This was not what I had in mind when I asked if we could go somewhere to talk.

“I’m supposed to be working at all times.  If my manager sees me talking and not dancing, he’ll bitch at me.  This is the most private place in the club.  Nobody can hear what we say.”

“Well…do you have to do that?” I asked, as she undulated against me.  “He can’t see in here, can he?”

“Yep, cameras,” she said, gesturing to a corner in the ceiling, her breast jiggling as she pointed, her nipple hitting against my cheek.

“Um, look, maybe we could meet up and talk outside of here sometime? Have coffee or something?  I’d like to talk to you about Evie.  I have some questions.”  And I had no idea how I would be able to ask them when she was dancing so close to me  that I could see how freshly waxed she was.

“I’m going out of town tomorrow night after my shift.  But we could talk right before I punch in and my manager won’t care.  Can you come back tomorrow?” she asked, as she turned around and shook her ass in my face.

It was hard to look anywhere else, let alone reply to her question.  

She reached back and slapped her ass loudly.

I jumped.

“Sorry,” she said, looking over her shoulder, shrugging, half-smiling.  “Habit.”

***

Sapphire and I agreed to meet at 9 p.m. the next night - Saturday.

I walked out of the protection of the Kit Kat Klub and smack dab into the middle of the craziness of Portland’s nightclub scene. The streets were filled with tourists, club kids, street kids, drugged out zombies and homeless people.

It never ceased to amaze me that Portland’s so-called ‘tourist’ district was in the same location as all the homeless shelters and missions.  I zigzagged through the crowd as I made my way down the few blocks to where I had parked my car.

Right away, I realized I was being followed.  I had noticed him sitting at the bar, his eyes following me as I had gotten up to talk to Sapphire.  And they had still been on me when I had walked out of the booth with her, watching even more intently as she gave me another naked bear hug before I left.

As I passed by a closed vintage clothing shop, I saw him a few steps behind me in the reflection of the shop window.  I picked up my pace and crossed the street, dodging passing cars as I jaywalked.  I turned to look behind me and didn’t see a car turning into the road until the driver honked loudly and slammed on the brakes, his car coming to a stop mere inches from my shins.

My heart leapt into my throat and I ran to the curb, panting and terrified.  I looked into the crowd across the street and the man had disappeared.

I sighed with relief and turned back towards my car.  I began walking down the sidewalk again, thankful for the safety of the side of the road.  I tried to shake it off, wiping my sweaty palms on my slacks.

Maybe I had been wrong, maybe he hadn’t been following me after all.  I was just paranoid, because of Evie, because of the other two missing girls.  This whole city was on edge because of it.

I looked across the street one more time and saw the man emerge from the crowd again.  I gasped as he began to cross the street and head towards me.  My car was a block away and I reached in my bag for my keys as I walked as fast as I could.

It wasn’t fast enough.  He was on me before I knew it, his meaty hand pushing me against the brick wall of a closed bank.

I pushed against him, screaming and trying to untangle myself from his grasp.  His eyes flashed in the street light and I realized he was drunk and angry, all at once.

Angry was dangerous.  But drunk, I could work with.

My knee slammed up between his legs and he crumbled to the ground.

I ran.  Fast.  And I didn’t look back.

I was in my car and squealing out of my parking space within seconds, my hands trembling, my entire body on fire with adrenaline.

I made it home in record time, my car carrying me to the safety of my condo building’s underground parking garage.  I don’t think I took a breath until I heard the loud clanging bang of the huge gate closing behind me.  

And then I took two.

After I had regained some semblance of control, I searched through my purse and found my phone.

I punched in the number I knew by heart but had never dialed before.

Slade answered on the second ring, his sleepy, sexy voice transporting me to that long ago night.

“Slade, it’s Diana,” I said, the tremble still lingering in my voice.  “I need you.  I mean, I need your…services.”