Surrender To Me

WREN

GOD, I hoped I knew what I was doing. Through the windshield of my car, I looked up at The Dollhouse, feeling my stomach churn. I felt like I was making a deal with the Devil here, although if I were honest with myself, Bane Rivera was one fine-looking devil. Glancing at the black card on the passenger seat, I tried to recall what he’d told me on the phone this afternoon after I’d finished with my last client. He’d said I could come through the front, that the bouncer would wave me through.

As I worked through washing dogs and clipping claws, I had time to think about Bane’s offer. He said he’d wipe Hawk’s debt if I worked for him. He never said how long, though, or doing what, although I suspected I already knew, so I’d reasoned with myself that this was just a meeting to discuss the particulars. I had not said yes to this. I was not committing to working at a fucking gentlemen’s club, no matter how exclusive it was.

Letting out one final breath, I got out of my car and locked it. I glanced around as I made my way to the front, feeling like everyone was staring at me.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” the bouncer asked, his bald head gleaming with sweat in the late evening heat that was still clinging to LA.

“Yes, my name is Wren-”Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Go on through,” he said, cutting me off. “Mr. Rivera is expecting you.”

“Th-thank you.” I stepped through the door he held open for me and let out a sigh as the cool air swirled around my feet. The club looked much the same as before, the lux fabrics and the opulence an almost indecent assault on the senses, especially when it was pared with women dressed in lingerie dancing on raised platforms with poles, in cages, and on men’s laps. I walked to the bar and then stopped. Bane never said to go to his office, and I figured barging in on him once was enough. I waited for him by the black-lacquered bar, my gaze bouncing around the room.

There were so many men here already, a lot of them sitting in quartets in comfortable-looking leather armchairs with high-rolled arms. The women were perched either on their knees or on the arms of the chairs themselves, their long, lean legs draped over the men’s laps. A lot of the women didn’t look real to me. How could someone look like that, I wondered, and how could they choose this as their career? “Little Bird.”

Jumping, I turned to find Bane standing there in the same suit as I’d seen him in this morning, although he’d jettisoned the jacket. His shirt was open at the collar, revealing a tantalizing look at the tattoos that continued from his neck down onto his chest. His dark hair was fuck-me tousled, his dark eyes drinking me in.

“Jesus, you scared me,” I told him.

He smirked.

The bastard.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Fuck, yes. Whisky on the rocks.”

His smile widened a little more before he turned to the bartender waiting at his elbow. After he’d ordered our drinks, we waited in silence. Bane was staring at me, his gaze never staying in one place too long. It dropped from my face to my chest, then lower. I had no idea what he was expecting to see. I’d come straight from work, so I smelled of wet dogs and was covered in hair. I’d toyed with the idea of getting changed, but I figured this wasn’t going to take too long. I’d find out the details, then I’d leave.

“Let’s go and sit down,” he said, handing me my drink and gesturing to the main floor of the club. I let him lead the way, trying to ignore how great his ass looked in those slacks. He picked a couple of seats at the far end of the club as far away from the gyrating pole dancers as we could get.

“I thought you might want a little privacy,” he told me in a dark voice that made my ovaries quiver a little bit.

I took a sip of my whisky, savoring the burn. “This won’t take long.”

With humor dancing in his eyes, he also took a sip from his glass before placing it on the small table beside him. “I make it a point never to do things fast with a beautiful woman.” He lounged back in the chair, his elbows on the high arms, his legs spread wide. I have a very vivid picture in my mind of what it would be like to be with a man like him, one who oozes dominance and power.

I cleared my throat. “We need to discuss the offer you made me this morning.”

He steepled his fingers together in front of him. “And I am all-”

He was cut off when an artificial redhead in matching red lingerie flopped into his lap. “Hi, Daddy,” she purred, running her finger over his jaw like a lover would.

With far more gentleness than I expected, he eased her off his lap. “Get out of here, Syn. You can see I’m in a meeting.”

The woman, Syn, cast her eyes on me, her expression turning sour. “A new Doll?” she asked.

Bane stared at me, a smile on his sinful mouth. “Maybe. Now get the fuck out of here.”

I watched the other woman go, then swallowed another mouthful of whisky. When I turned back, Bane was still staring at me, only all amusement was gone. “What’s a Doll?” I asked.

“What I call my dancers.”

“Oh.” Nervous energy fluttered around inside me, pinging against my skin and making me suddenly jumpy. Is that what Bane wanted me for? To be one of his Dolls? I looked around at the other women. They were all dressed in barely-there lingerie, their faces perfectly done, their hair immaculate. If his offer was for me to become one of his dancers, I wasn’t sure I could.

“Should we get down to business then?” he asked smoothly.