When You're With Me (4 page)

Wow, where’d that thought come from?

More turned on than she’d ever been in her life, Jude wondered if he could see her sopping wet excitement.
Could see it? But he wasn’t supposed to
! Yeah, he seemed like a decent guy, but there must be a story. A cheating wife? A loveless marriage? A girlfriend who was out of town? Maybe he was the type that could only do it with a hooker. The desire to hate him as she did the others was inexplicably missing.

In
the
forefront of her mind, she danced for his private pleasure
.
She touched her breasts and plucked at her nipples, making them taut. He nodded, seeming to approve. Would he like to lick them? Would he like to explore everywhere else?

Jude shivered. She wanted to learn his name and everything about him. She gyrated with the music, rarely taking her eyes away from his. The only remaining parts of her costume were her thong and red stilettos. He gripped his beer bottle in a white-knuckled fist. His gaze raked up and down her body. Dear Lord, she wanted to show him everything. Could he be the man to teach her what sex should be like?

It felt naughty, but Jude liked his heated gaze. She tilted her head back and teased her fingers down her neck. Lust radiated between her legs. He’d created the sensations without even touching her.

Now she saw how Jolene claimed she got off while dancing.

If all the clients were like him, this would be so much easier…so much more exciting.

She rubbed her ass up and down the pole then arched her back as the music faded away. Any question as to how she felt disappeared with her apprehension. Jude made a decision that was totally out of character. She knew where to circulate.

* * * *

The waitress returned with Tiny Balthazar in tow. Ramon bit back a grimace and forced a tight smile. The pungent scent of Tiny’s aftershave cut through the thick smoke wafting through the room.

Tiny sat on the chair next to Ramon. The wooden legs screeched against the tile floor. “You like my club, I see.”

Ramon sipped his beer. “I appreciate beautiful women.”

Tiny folded his meaty, tattooed arms. “Ross tells me you are in search of a job, Mr Decker. I saw your work at the Pink Pussy and I want you. I have a business proposition that would make us both happy. I want you to keep the drunks in line, and you can ogle the girls all you want.”

Ramon nodded. “Taking out the trash is one of my specialities.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. I need good men to keep things in line.” Tiny chuckled and wrapped his arm around the waitress. “According to Charisma, here, you have an interest in Judy Blue Eyes.” He glanced over his shoulder at the empty stage. “She’s one of our rare girls. She doesn’t entertain many clients on a personal scale, but she does seem to bring men in looking for an attainable girl next door. Judy makes pudge sell.”

“You said it.” Ramon cocked a brow to stifle his disdain. Although Jude was indeed pretty, he wasn’t sure he liked hearing the dealer refer to her as attainable and he sure as hell refused to label her as a pudge. The asshole.

Tiny handed Ramon a card and smirked. “Go to the black door next to the bar. It says private, but if you show Harry your card he’ll let you through. My treat, since you’re now on the payroll.” He stood and smoothed his silk shirt. “Somehow, I have the feeling you’ll be just what she wants, or needs, and, since I encourage my bouncers to engage in personal relationships with my dancers, you two might be good for each other. See me in my office when you’re finished. I’ll have Goldie give you the grand tour.”

Ramon raised a brow. “Goldie?”

“Miranda—AKA Gold Dust Woman. I like the girls to use song title stage names. It’s my special touch.” With that, Tiny strolled away, smoking his cigar and leaving puffs of smoke in his wake.

As much as his common sense told Ramon to back out and stay unattached, his groin and his duty to the force told him to stay put. He had to see Jude. He needed her to be real and not an image on the stage. Her breasts, her hips, her face…and those eyes… Dear God, he needed her—every bit of her. And, if getting to her meant dealing with Carlie as Miranda AKA Goldie, challenge accepted.

Ramon made his way to the black door next to the bar. He nodded at the raven-haired bartender, who immediately came over. The man was at least six inches shorter than Ramon, but over-wrought with solid, angry muscle.

“Where are you going?” Harry’s voice was gruff. He held out a meaty hand.

“Got a directive from the boss.” Fear and exhilaration flowed through his veins. Jude would be worth the hassle. He just hoped he could still see her after the shit hit the proverbial fan.

Ramon watched Harry give the paper the once-over and nod at the door. “You get half an hour, courtesy of Mr Balthazar.” The bartender held out his hand. “You must’ve made an impression. Are you the new muscle?”

“Something like that. I’m supposed to remove the disorderlies and keep the place under control.”

“Ross picked you?”

“Sure did. I worked the Pink Pussy Cat Club over in Chatsworth until they closed last month.”

“Lucky for you. Pussy Cat wasn’t the safest place to work.” Harry rubbed the patch of thick black hair covering his chin. “You get room number two. Go in and sit. She’ll come in through the back door. Rules… She can touch you, but you can’t touch her without her permission. No sex—oral or otherwise. If there’s a problem, we got bouncers watching the cameras in each room.” He unlocked the thick door. “Since you’re Mr Balthazar’s guest, you can do as you please, as long as she agrees. She screams, then I’ll personally kick your ass outta here. Got it?”

Ramon nodded. He hadn’t come here to break the rules. Well…not all the rules and not just yet. He passed through the gateway and located room two in the harshly lit hallway. A ripple of anticipation and wanton desire racked his body. He replayed her dance in his head. What had she done that was so special? He’d watched her flit around the main room serving drinks and charming customers. Every gyration and caress had stirred his libido.

Ramon turned the knob on the door. One leather armchair, one faux-leather covered bench, a silver pole and a very obvious camera decorated the room. He chuckled. “Must make it easy to hose down at closing time,” he muttered.

Ramon took his seat and waited. He perched on the edge of the chair, on guard for every sound and hint of movement. Chalk it up to rigorous academy training. As a cop, he needed to be aware and cautious. As a man, he felt he needed to be in control. Now he knew how suspects felt while awaiting interrogation—scared to death. Despite the severity of the situation, a ripple of desire ripped through him. She stirred his libido. For Miss Judy Blue Eyes, he’d be aware, but she could have all the control. Nothing good ever lasted in his life. He wanted to enjoy her, and the ride, for as long as possible.

Jude considered grumbling when Renee told her about the private dance. She didn’t like being alone with the clients. She hated the feeling of being in danger. Plus, it was going to prevent her from finding her mystery man.

After an upbraiding from Renee, Jude relented and found a black demi-bra, which she paired with a black thong. For concealment, she slid into a man’s crisp, white dress shirt. It felt like her art smock, which gave her confidence. She desperately needed something to make her feel strong in this situation. She stepped into a pair of black stilettos and finger-combed her hair. Checking her look in the mirror wasn’t going to happen. She needed more than conviction to get through this.

“I have got to find a better job,” she muttered as she walked to the door. In her mind, she concocted an image of a large man with terrible body odour, blunt fingers, rough stubble and bad breath. He would want to manhandle her to get his way. Why did her nightmares seem to become real? Jude shook and fisted her hands. She took a deep breath and turned the knob.
Let him be…decent
.

Jude leaned against the doorframe to size up her situation. The client sat on the green leather chair. In person, he didn’t appear to be as menacing as the figment she’d built up in her mind. Actually, he was sexy and familiar…

Her brain finally registered who he was…her mystery man!

She knew the bleached-blond stud with the smouldering chocolate brown eyes couldn’t possibly be here to see her. He had gorgeous women like Andie and Colleen falling at his feet. Why lower himself to her level? She felt so plain, chunky and average by comparison. Maybe this was her chance. He turned her on just by sitting in the room. Could he be interested in her?

She shut the door and backed against it to hide her quaking knees. He was gorgeous…and she wondered what his ulterior motives could be. Men like him always told her to ‘get a real job’. They explained that she was way out of their league and only gave her attention in pity.

Still, her mouth watered. The man personified strength and sensuality, from his well-worn motorcycle boots to his shaggy bleached hair. Here was the man she’d quietly lusted after for the past couple of months, and he’d paid money to see
her
—no freakin’ way!
All I had to do was invite him in for a lap dance?
Inadvertently, she clutched her hand to her chest. Her nipples went taut and desire pooled low in her belly. She wanted to caress herself and turn him on as much as he did her. What was he thinking? Her lips parted, dying for a taste of her dream man.

The hunk did something that totally shocked Jude—he smiled. It wasn’t mean or evil, but genuine, warm and natural. He looked happy to be here. Beguiling…like he wanted her.

He spoke first, breaking the heavy silence. “Are you Miss Judy Blue Eyes?”

Jude nodded. His husky baritone made her crazy and warmed her entire body. What if he shouted her name? She had to get a grip before he walked out. “I’m Judy…er…Jude.” She hated her stage name. It came from a pretty rock song, but it didn’t describe who she was. Not that her name mattered much. Once he’d found out that she was damaged goods, he’d walk away in a heartbeat. Normal girls don’t take their clothes off for money. She was far from normal.

“I’m one of Tiny’s new hired guns, Ramon Decker. What do I get for my trouble, sweet girl?”

His question brought her back to reality. The sound of his voice soothed away her fears, although her common sense warned her to be cautious. He didn’t push, assume, or try to grab her as she would have expected. The sexy smile continued to curl his lips. Did he see her as trouble? Jude should hate him because he was a patron of the club, but she could feel her nipples hardening from his gaze. Why initiate contact then? True, she wasn’t rail-thin, but she wouldn’t break him with her size. Or was he making fun? Everything was too confusing.

“Well, I sit on your lap and take some of my clothes off, Ramon.” Jude’s wobbly legs carried her across the small room to his position, and she dropped to her knees. “I’m supposed to dance and pleasure you, unless you have a better idea that’s
legal
. I’m not one of the girls who say yes to anything. I have some limits.”
Lots of limits.

His dark eyes stole down her body with special attention to her average breasts. Were they too small? Was he thinking about the way her chest might bounce as they made love? Heat seared her to the core.

Jude leaned into him between his knees and kneaded the steaming bulge in his jeans with her hands. He was hard as steel. She gazed up at him, but saw only his poker face—no element of like or dislike, just blank and unnerving.

She wanted to look sexy or simmering, but felt ridiculous. Her confidence waned. What was he thinking? Did he like this? Did he want more…or maybe for her to stop? She needed to know if she was even on the right track or wasting their time. Then she wondered about the biggest question. Why her?

He commanded her onto his lap with a pat on his firm thigh. “Come here. I’ve seen you up on that lonely stage, Jude. Now I want to experience you in private.”

His eyes seemed to soften with intent as he searched her face. She felt naked yet confident. He wasn’t laughing yet. What about when he discovered how little she knew about satisfying a man? He’d laugh and run away.

Jude braced her hands on the arms of the chair and forced herself to slide onto his lap. Her heart slammed violently in her chest. “Please call me Jude.” She straddled his muscle-corded legs and gripped the chair for support. “Is this better?”

Ramon’s hands hovered over her forearms. He licked his lips, teasing her to partake. “Can I touch you, Jude?” His breathing sped up. Earnest sincerity graced his face.

The question and his subsequent actions knocked her totally off-kilter.
Can you touch me? Can you touch me? Everywhere and in every way, you can touch me. I’ll die if you don’t…
She had no idea where the thoughts came from, but she didn’t discourage them. For once she wanted to run into a man’s arms with abandon—this man’s. “Yes, Ramon.”

Shivers ran from her hairline to her toes. His brown eyes drew her in and his sincere smile gave her courage. A little bit of courage, anyway…

Her body moved on instinct—thrilling, sensual instinct.

Jude shifted to give him better access to the shirt. She wished it was his shirt with his scent. Her breath hitched as his long fingers grazed her breasts. He skimmed her sensitive skin with the gentlest of caresses, bringing a whimper from low in her throat. It was like he was being intentionally careful—like he knew about her past. Her skin flushed. She’d been waiting for ages for this moment.