I headed to the bar, pushing the order slip across the counter to Jason. Carson was off talking to his friends. When he spotted me, he walked over, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me close to his side as he smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back.
Jason cleared his throat so I looked back at him curiously, leaning over the bar and grabbing my lozenges I’d tucked down there. “Mr Matthews wants backroom, Emma. How do you feel about that?” Jason asked, as I popped a sweet into my mouth.
I shrugged knowing he wouldn’t go for it anyway, so it didn’t really matter what my answer was. “It’s not allowed.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Mr Matthews wants to hire the room for the night. He’ll pay you separately for your services. I’ve agreed that if it’s something you want to do, then you can do it. I’ll just pull one of the floating dancers off and they can work your section tonight.”
I looked at him, shocked. I really wasn’t expecting that at all. Turning to Carson, I frowned worriedly. As much as I would love to do that and spend the night just with him, I really couldn’t in case he did end up getting sick. “I can’t, really. I’m ill. That’s not a good idea,” I protested, biting my lip, fighting with myself because I would get to touch his body until closing time, and have him touch me. The thought of that was just too inviting, and I really wanted to accept.
“Em, you already said I couldn’t catch it. And anyway, I don’t care if I get ill; I just really want to spend some private time with you.” He gave me his puppy dog face, and I could feel my will to say no crumbling with each passing second I looked into his baby-blues. “Please?” he whispered.
Unable to resist, I gulped and nodded in agreement. I really couldn’t say no to the stupid guy; that wasn’t fair at all.
He smiled happily and turned back to Jason. “Great. Just charge the rental fee we discussed to my tab and I’ll settle up at the end of the night. If you could add Emma’s fee onto my card, too, and then you pay her the money, like we agreed, so she doesn’t have to have cash?” He looked at Jason hopefully.
I looked at Jason for confirmation and he nodded. “You’re okay with that, Emma?”
I nodded and shrugged. I never wanted the money from Carson, but Sasha’s birthday was coming up at the end of next month and mine was in two weeks. I knew Lucie wanted to go out for my birthday; it would be nice to have the money to do that this year. I never got to go out.
Carson smiled and took my hand, interlacing our fingers as he started to pull me away from the bar. I gave him a little tug to tell him to stop. “Jason, can I get a couple of bottles of water to take?”
He nodded and threw me two. Carson took them from my hands and smiled his cute little dimpled smile as he pulled me in the direction of the back of the club again.
That was when I remembered Tyson. “Baby, wait a second. There’s a guy on his stag night. He’s a big fan of yours, and I told him I’d ask if you’d do an autograph or photo or something for him…” I trailed off uncomfortably. Had I overstepped my boundaries by asking him for a favour? After all, he was just a client of mine.
He smiled and laughed before rolling his eyes. “Sure. Which one is he?”
I led him over to the table and stood back as he chatted to the guys for a couple of minutes, signing napkins, posing for photos on mobile phones. When he was finally done, he wound his arm around my waist and pulled me quickly toward the backrooms. I laughed at his eagerness; he seemed almost as desperate as me. Two weeks was definitely a long time.
Once we were in, he pushed the door closed and put the drinks on the table. Usually, he would have attacked me by now; I would have been off my feet with him kissing me passionately. Instead, he led me over to the little couch, sitting down and pulling me onto his lap. His hands went straight for the buckles of my shoes as mine went to the buttons of his shirt. He smiled and pushed my hands off him as I kissed the exposed skin of his chest, running my tongue there, tasting his skin. I moaned breathlessly. He tasted so incredible. His smell was all around me, making me feel safe, wanted and needed, just like he always made me feel.
I kissed his neck again, sucking on the skin lightly, but he gripped my shoulders, pushing me back a little. “No kissing. Just stop,” he whispered, tapping his finger on the tip of my nose.
He slipped my shoes off one at a time. His other arm wrapped around me, laying me back on the sofa as he settled down next to me. He gripped my chin and tipped my head back as he kissed the side of my neck. “I’m going to kiss your sore throat better,” he breathed.
I gasped at the feel of it; it felt so nice that my whole body broke out in goose bumps. I gripped my hand into the back of his hair as he planted gentle little kisses around my throat and jawline, and I must admit, it was making it feel a little better.
Moving my legs, I tried to shift to the side so I could pull him on top of me and wrap my legs around him, but he just pushed my legs away effortlessly. He moved closer to my side, bending his knees and pushing them under my bum so I had to drape my legs over the top of his. One of his hands traced down my thigh, over my shin and down to my foot, which he started to massage gently. My whole body relaxed as I melted against him, tangling my hand in his hair as he nibbled on my neck gently. He rubbed my foot at the same time, rubbing the tension and pain away caused by my shoes.
“I missed you, Emma.” His hot breath blew down across my collarbone, teasing my overheated skin. His smell was surrounding me – that unmistakeable Carson Matthews scent of beautiful, mixed with a little biker. Jeez, that smell! “I hate that you’re sick. I wish you would just stay at home and take it easy,” he whispered, his words vibrating against my throat. “Close your eyes for a couple of minutes and just let me rub your feet,” he instructed, moving slightly higher and kissing each of my eyelids before heading back to my sore throat.