Trashy (Take It Off #10)(20)
Author: Cambria Hebert

As I lay awake last night, my dick refusing to soften, I realized something. Those things had only been excuses. I let those things keep me away from her.

Truth was she scared the shit out of me.

It only took one kiss for me to realize it.

That one kiss altered everything. I knew it would. I’d been dodging that kiss for almost two years. It didn’t really make sense that I would run from something I wanted so badly.

Maybe Roxie wasn’t the only oxymoron around.

It was that soft spot inside her that called to me the most. The intensity in which I wanted to protect her, to possess her, and to… love her made my body break out in a fine sheen of sweat.

How did a man not lose himself when someone like her was in his life?

She had the ability to consume me, to occupy my every waking thought. Hell, she already owned my cock. I’d already jacked off twice, yet it was still throbbing for her.

These last few months, things shifted between us. The desire I felt for her somehow grew, changed. It became more urgent. It was almost like something deep inside me was pushing me, telling me it was time for us.

I’d never admit it out loud, but I was still scared spitless. I wasn’t sure it was the time for Roxie and me, but timing no longer mattered.

I kissed her.

I claimed her.

There was no going back.

Out in the club, I heard the heavy door open and bang shut. I moved automatically, pushing out of my desk chair and going to the open door. I knew it was probably Roxie, but I wasn’t expecting her this early. She was padding across the hardwood in a pair of gray and neon-yellow sneakers in some sort of animal print. Atop her cutoff jean shorts sat a loose white tank halfway covering a neon-yellow top that sort of looked like a bra. What the fuck was she doing showing her bra off for everyone to see?

“Is that your bra?” I barked before I could think better of it. Women hated when men talked about their clothes, unless of course it was to tell them how awesome they looked.

Roxie stopped in her tracks and looked up. Her eyes widened and she seemed startled that I was standing here. Had she not seen me?

“What?” she said.

“I want to know why your bra is hanging out.”

She gave me a look like I might have grown another head and then glanced down at herself, like she had no clue what she was even wearing. What the hell was wrong with her?

“It’s a tank top…” she said, like it was obvious.

“That yellow thing is not a tank top,” I growled.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a bandeau top. It’s made to go under loose tops like this. It’s stylish.” As she talked, her dark ponytail bounced around on top of her head. Her dark bangs were pushed over to the side, revealing more of one purple eye than the other.

What the fuck was I doing talking about her clothes? “I don’t like it.”

“Too damn bad,” she snapped. Then her shoulders slumped just enough for me to notice the movement. “You know what?” she said, straightening them. She huffed out a breath that ruffled her bangs, and she looked fucking sexy doing it. “I’ve had enough of men to last me a lifetime. Always trying to boss me around. I’m leaving.”

She spun on her sneaker, the oversized white bag on her shoulder swinging around with her, and she marched toward the door.

I rushed after her. “Oh, no you don’t,” I growled, grabbing her elbow. She snatched herself out of my grip, but not before I felt her shaking.

“Hey,” I said, gentling my tone. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“It isn’t nothing.” Now that I wasn’t staring at her hot body and way-too-revealing outfit, I focused on her face, on the way her mouth was drawn tight and the circles beneath her eyes. Added to the way I felt her trembling beneath my touch, I knew she was lying.

“I just don’t feel that great,” she said. “Can you train me tomorrow?”

My eyes narrowed as I considered ordering her to stay. And see, this is what I knew would happen. I was already rushing after her, trying to read her mood and gauging my words before I let them out of my mouth.

One kiss and I was already wrapped.

Fuck me.

She didn’t wait for me to reply. She pulled open the door, ready to barge out into the sunlight. But she didn’t. Instead, she froze. Her eyes seemed to focus on something outside, and then she slammed the door shut. “On second thought, let’s just do it now.”

“Woman, you’re giving me whiplash,” I rumbled. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, avoiding my stare.

“Fair enough.” I shrugged. If she didn’t want to talk about it right now, fine. But she was going to tell me eventually.

“Really?” She seemed relieved, to the point that it made me feel bad.

“Yes, babe. Really.” Remembering how she jerked away from me just seconds before, I made my movements deliberate, reaching for her hand and tangling our fingers together. She looked down at where we were joined and then back up at me.

I didn’t know how to read the look on her face. It was a mix between fear, relief, and longing. She didn’t pull her hand away.

“Come on,” I said, leading her toward the office. “Let me show ya how to run this place.”

15

Roxie

Two hours into my training and I had a whole new respect for Adam. He was good at what he did. Business was clearly something he excelled in. He was organized, thorough, and took a no-bullshit approach to everything concerning the club. It wasn’t surprising at all he was very successful and opening a second place.

I also learned something about myself. Business bored the crap out of me. I understood what he was telling me, I understood the things I needed to do and keep an eye on, but the endless paperwork made me want to pour bleach in my eyes. It made me question my decision to take this new position.

Sharp snapping had me coming out of my boredom-induced coma, and I blinked, focusing on Adam, who was the one making the sound.

“Roxie, are you even paying attention?” Adam said, snapping his fingers together in front of my face.

“Of course.” I lied.

“Yeah?” he said, amused, and set a stack of papers on his desk. “What did I just say?”

“Something about numbers,” I answered evasively.

He chuckled. “You’re bored out of your damn mind, aren’t you?”

I sighed and plopped into a nearby chair. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe I should go back to dancing.”