I shake my head, reeling from everything that just went down. “No, it’s fine.” All I can think about now, though, is what the guy said about Jake falling in love. Is it true? I can’t exactly ask him. And if he is, what does that mean for us? For my job and for the investigation.
But I forget all of it when Jake cups my face in his palms and sets my body on fire with a searing kiss. When he pulls back, I feel slightly dazed.
?
?There,” he says smugly. “I like that look on your face much better. Why don’t we go out tonight so we can forget all about this entire mess?”
“I can’t think of anything that sounds better.”
Jake
“Where are we going?” Layla asks as my limo makes its way down the busy streets of Manhattan.
“Dinner and dancing,” I say with a laugh.
She narrows her eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t taking me ballroom dancing?”
“Would you want to go ballroom dancing?”
“Um. No.”
I wink at her. “That’s what I thought.” The limo pulls up in front of an upscale burlesque dinner club. “Here we are.”
Layla lifts her eyebrows, but I can tell she’s intrigued. “I’ve heard of this place but I’ve never been.”
Perfect. Just the thing to take her mind off all the shit she had to deal with today. I climb from the limo and hold my hand out to her, and then we walk into the club hand-in-hand.
We’re immediately taken upstairs when I give my name to the host.
“Where are they taking us?” Layla whispers.
“I reserved a private VIP room.”
The way she smiles, like she can’t wait to see just what goes on in a VIP room has my cock ready for action. That’s my girl. Up for anything and everything. I fucking love that about her. I don’t know that I’ve ever been with someone so open and confident in their sexuality, and it’s such a fucking turn on that I’m almost surprised my cock hasn’t gone into overload and just torn right through my pants to get at her.
We’re left alone in the room, and I pour two glasses of champagne and sit next to Layla on the sleek suede sofa that faces a giant wall of glass. Layla takes it all in, her eyes wide with excitement as she looks at the display below. Dark gray and black furniture and walls contrast with the neon pinks, purples, and blues of the lights in the club, giving the entire place a vibe of both elegance and pure sex.
We have a perfect view of the center of the room where there are stages with poles, all glowing and pulsing in time to the music. Girls in various states of nudity are wrapped around the poles for our viewing pleasure.
“What do you think?” I ask, sipping the champagne after I clink my glass to hers.
“This is amazing. I’ve always wanted to come here.”
I smile. Just like I thought.
We order some food and drink our champagne, and I watch as Layla totally relaxes, all hints of the stress of the day gone.
“I knew you’d like it,” I say as I refill her empty glass.
“Sounds like you’re a regular here, Mr. Kent,” she teases. “Who’s your favorite dancer?”
I feign surprise. “Oh, do you dance? Please, don’t let me stop you if you’d like to give me a show right now.”
“Only if you’re a good boy and behave yourself.” She watches me over the rim of her glass as she sips her champagne, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Now where’s the fun in that? Don’t you know by now that I never behave myself?”
“Ah, that’s right. Always the bad boy.”