Up All Night Long: From Lust to Love (Romance Anthology) (31 page)

Chapter 6

The shift at the hospital was pure torture, the main event of the day being a bus of students from a summer camp that had an accident with an eighteen-wheeler. It wasn't the trauma of what happened to the kids that left me so torn up, but the way the parents acted. I would have rather dealt with crack addicts for the rest of the week than push one more of them back in the midst of their agony.

They had gone from anger to concern to absolute devastation. Most of the kids hadn't made it and I had to excuse myself to the bathroom to throw up at least three times when the families got the news. The pain in the air buckled my sense of resolve to remain strong and unaffected. The wailing screams and heart-felt sobs from the family threw me back to the night Amanda died in my arms. I hadn't experienced anything as horrific since, but the scene in the ER was damn near close.

I wasn't having kids for lots of reasons, but the one I witnessed today was the main one. If a woman could leave me broken and bare, a child could destroy me completely. There was something good to be said about the fact that Jake and I were abandoned at birth and left to foster care. I was a horrible kid and he wasn't much better. There was no mother's heart to break or father's pride to crush. We rarely ended up anywhere but back at the orphanage. As soon as we were old enough, we moved to the streets and worked hard to make sure we were fed and had a place to lay our heads. Other than that... nothing was important.

My phone buzzed as I walked into the quiet apartment. It wasn't much bigger than a studio, but I was thrilled. It was more than I had ever had.

"What?" I barked into the receiver, not caring who was on the phone. It was after eight at night and I hadn't eaten since breakfast because of another mother fucker calling in and me having to pull a double shift.

"It's me, dude," Jake barked back. "I just got a call from Senator Moore. The meet up is tonight at The Roxy. The girl is going to be with a group of girls no doubt. Mitch said that she's got long blond hair, blue eyes and looks a little bit like him. She's about five foot, five inches and a hundred and thirty pounds."

"Sounds hot," I grumbled and opened the fridge, leaning over and pulling out a beer and a pack of lunchmeat. I was too tired to make a sandwich.

Pulling the package open, I rolled the meat and started to eat as fast as I could as my stomach groaned. Jake droned on and I tried to pay attention, but fear of not getting enough to eat threatened to shut me down.

It didn't matter how much better life got. I remembered starving half to death for too long to let the terror of it go.

"Hey. You there?" His tone was less than pleasant and I had to work hard at not snapping his head off.

"Yeah, dude. Fuck. I'm tired and starving." I shoved more into my mouth and popped open a beer, wanting to get off the phone and take a long shower.

"Sorry. Cindy's being a bitch again."

"Drop that hooker, Jake. Come over here until you find a new place. Life is too long to stay with someone that shits on you all the time."

"Yeah, yeah. Tonight's not about me. It's about you. Get your shit together, eat and get up to that club. Be professional and call me later about whether you want the job or not. The Senator's ready to hire you, so it’s really your call."

"Can I just not go and say yes? I don't care what the little piece is like. The money is too good to say no."

"No. You can't. Do what I said and let me know your answer."

"Fuck. All right. Thanks, Bro." I hung up and tossed the phone on a nearby chair before finishing the meat roll and washing it down with the rest of my beer. The loaf of bread beside me looked good and would go great with the meat sitting in my stomach. I took a few pieces and almost swallowed them whole as I walked languidly to the bathroom.

A nap would have been great before having to dress up for a night at the club. I used to love to go, my dance skills wicked sick, but I quit after realizing that dancing led to sex and sex led to loving someone. I wasn't interested.

Tonight would be different. A little dancing, a drink and an interview. Hope the girl had practiced personality questions. I was going to drill her.

"Drill her." I chuckled and shoved the rest of the bread in my mouth before getting into the shower.

I washed up quickly and towel dried my hair as I inspected myself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom. My tats lined my chest and abs, my hours in the gym giving me the body I could never get when I was smoking. Drugs did weird shit to me, leaving me more content to waste away than do or be anything in life.

"Never again." I ran my hand along my cock, grateful that the abuse I put on myself in my younger years hadn't affected my ability to please a woman. I might not have used it often, but when I did... I wanted to bring the girl to her knees with pleasure.

It wasn't happening tonight. I stroked myself once more and focused back on my face, wondering if I should shave or not. I decided on not.

Picking up the phone, I texted my brother for the girl's digits. A few minutes later the number came back through and I figured it was time to start the interview.

"Let's see how compliant you are, little girl."

Me:
This is Ian. Your father and I spoke about me working for him where you were concerned. Let me know the address to The Roxy and I'll see you in the better part of an hour.

She texted back a few minutes later, my lip lifting for no good reason.

Her:
Hi Ian. I'm Chloe. I heard you needed a body to guard and I guess my father thought to offer mine. If you have Safari on your phone, then you can figure out where the club is. I would think a big, smart guy like you can push a few buttons. No? I'll show you when you get here how to push buttons. I'm soooo good at it.

I laughed, unable to help myself. This was going to be fun. She was pissed about her father seeking protection for her. If I wanted a challenge, I just got one. I decided not to text her back, but let her stew on whether or not I took her text as humorous or asinine.

I knew without a doubt it was the latter of the two, but the girl had balls. It would be interesting to see if her looks fit her stunning personality.

Pulling up the Internet, I searched for a picture of the Senator and his family. I was surprised to see that only one picture of him with the girl showed up. She had to have been ten in the picture. The pretty smile on her face was filled with innocence, but sadness sat around the edges of her eyes.

"What story do you have to tell, Chloe?"

I tossed the phone down and pulled on a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a tight black t-shirt with my shit kickers. I looked like I was ready to jump on a hog and run-rule the biggest bad-ass in town. I was... It would be interesting to see what she thought of me.

The night was to help with me making a decision, but her father hadn't given her the chance to have a say in any of it, obviously. Was he still treating her like a child? I picked up the phone and called the picture back up, checking the date.

Eleven years ago.

She was twenty-one and probably had a sense of entitlement all over her. Rich, young and beautiful. The three things I didn't want to get involved in.

"The money's good. The money's good. Just keep telling yourself the money's good."

Since when did I give a shit about money?

Since getting a good taste of it.

Fuck, I hope she's not hot.

Chapter 7

The shimmery pink top looked good on me. I was a little apprehensive about having to meet this new guy, but if he could push through the layers of shit I was going to throw his way, I guess he deserved the job. My father wasn't going to relent and though I wanted to keep pushing against his will, it just wouldn't work in my best interest.

I did as I always had when he forced something on me. I pouted and threw a few childish fits and then simply accepted it. The pouting was over and now it was fit throwing time. I smiled and put another layer of sparkly pink lip gloss over my lips as I leaned toward the mirror in the club bathroom.

"So, how much is the bet tonight?" Lyndsay, a semi-friend from my childhood days glanced toward me. I was with her and three other girls from high school, none of them real friends but simply the girls my father approved of me being seen with.

"Three hundred bucks?" Angie tugged at her breasts as a grimace moved across her face. Her short pixie cut looked wrong against her face, but I wasn't going to tell her. She was a bitch on a good day, and I was simply grateful that today was good.

"I'm in," Lyndsay murmured and checked her teeth one more time.

"Wait, what's the bet for?" I glanced toward Angie as confusion rolled over me.

"Oh right. Miss UCLA here hasn't been home in a year." Angie winked at me and nodded toward Lyndsay. "We started a game about eight months ago. First girl to get laid gets three hundred bucks. We'll each throw in a hundred dollar bill."

Margaret was by the bar with Karen, so I had to assume they didn't play the game. Sex sounded good, but I was rather particular with my choice of men. There was no way in hell I was going to win the bet anyway... my father was sending a babysitter to watch over me. Unless...

A smile lifted my lips as the other two laughed and began to question me.

"Nothing. I'm in." I turned and walked from the bathroom, making a beeline to the bar. Karen waved me over and I squeezed in between them, pressing my arms to the bar as the other girls started to chat.

"Hey, pretty girl." The bartender stopped in front of me, the rough-looking guy more my taste than anything I'd seen on campus.

"Hi there." I glanced behind him as if making a decision. "Ummm... I'll have a jack and Coke."

"Good choice. First one is on me. You want a tab after that?"

"I doubt I'll need one." I laughed and he chuckled and winked. He was cute and the tattoo playing peek-a-boo out of the sleeve of his shirt made my heart skip a beat. My father would never allow me to date anyone who looked like they belonged to a motorcycle crew, but damn if I didn't want to spend one night with one of them.

Just to see if the rumors were true. To test out the theory and such...

I turned and watched the door of the club as nervousness rolled in my stomach. I didn't know what I was looking for, but my father had demanded that I tell him what I was wearing that night. The new guy would find me by dad's description if nothing else.

There was a part of me that wanted to change last minute to confuse the brute and blame it on my wayward female hormones, but I stopped myself.

"So tell us about UCLA. How is the sorority, the classes, the men?" Margaret tugged a long strand of copper hair behind her ear and looked down her nose at me.

"You guys have been to L.A. a million times. It's an eclectic mix of the rich and beautiful and the poor and hot." I laughed and they did too. One of my favorite songs poured from the speakers above us and I grabbed my drink, slipping through them. "That's my jam. I'm out."

I took a long drink of my poison of choice and walked onto the dance floor with the rest of the city it would seem. The club was packed for a Monday night, which made no sense other than it being the first official day of summer. I turned and smiled up at a dark-skinned boy who slipped a hand around my waist and rolled up against me.

He leaned over and brushed his lips by my ear. "You're cute. What's your name?"

I shook my head and smiled. No names being given during the song. I was there to dance. Nothing else. Turning around, I backed up into him and kept dancing. The sea of bodies around us bounced to the music, the rhythm picking up into something a little faster.

I glanced over my shoulder and winked at him before slipping out of the group. A large guy with thick muscles and a perfect rear turned in front of me and walked toward the bar. My first thought was to brush by his butt, just to have a chance to touch it, but I realized how whorish I was being. It had been too long since I'd slept with someone. My hormones might not cause me to change my shirt, but they would most likely force me beneath some hot guy by the end of the night.

My friends seemed to notice him too, their stares and ogling almost obnoxious.

"I call dibs." I walked up and nodded to him.

"Oh, hell no." Angie turned on me. "I'm going after him."

"Nope. I called it." I shrugged. She could puff up all she wanted. I had to see what he looked like, how he danced, what he smelled like. I giggled at the look on her face, which seemed to piss her off further.

I let out a soft gasp as he turned. Tattoos raced across his throat and down his exposed forearms. He had to be covered in them. His eyes were dark, his expression pensive and filled with angst. The tight black t-shirt that stretched across his chest left little to the imagination. He was cut, and I couldn't decide if my fantasies should have me licking the ink trail or the swell of his muscles first.

He glanced toward me as his hair dropped into his eyes. The smirk on his mouth was beautiful, sensual... teasing. A fire started in the pit of my stomach and I knew without a doubt that if he was willing to play, I'd be winning the bet tonight.

A slow, sexy song cued up behind me as if the universe decided to cut me some slack. I finished my drink and walked toward him.

His eyes moved down the length of my body as he lifted a beer to his lips.

"I need someone to dance with. You look like the kind of guy that might be able to keep up." I smiled and reached for him, not one to shy away from much of anything.

"Do I, now?" He stood and took another sip of his beer before nodding toward the floor. "Lead the way."

His voice was low and husky, the sound of it rushing across my nerve endings and sending them into a heated frenzy. I walked to the floor, hoping like hell my jeans were tight enough to grab his attention, my shirt not too childish, but simply pretty.

I turned and pushed my thick blond hair over my shoulder, reaching out and sliding one hand over his chest and looping it on the thickness of his neck. Breathing in deeply, I let out a soft moan and moved closer to him.

Danger sat on him like a well-worn coat, his expression stripping me naked before I had a chance to offer anything to the handsome stranger. His cologne was light and mixed with the scent of aftershave and soap.

"I want to see where these tats lead." I brushed my fingers along the one on his neck.

"Do you have any of your own?" He leaned in and brushed his nose by my cheek. I shivered and took the final step between us, pressing my body against his. Warning signals started going off in my head. I hadn't wanted anyone physically this bad for as long as I could remember.

One night. One night and nothing more.

"No, but I've always wanted one." I smiled up at him and rolled my hips as he shifted his back. I smirked at the thought of him hiding his erection, or worse... maybe he didn't have one.

"I'm not so sure the daughter of a Senator would do well marking up her pretty body."

I stiffened and moved back as fear rolled over me. Was he someone I should be afraid of or just a follower of my dad's that recognized me? I approached him, not the other way around.

"Fan of my dad's?" I asked, standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor.

"Soon to be employee. Let's go over there and talk for a minute, Chloe. I'm Ian." He chuckled as heat burned my chest and cheeks.

No fucking way I just hit on my bodyguard. I have to call my dad now. This guy can't get the job. He's hotter than sin.

I'd never survive.