She shouldn’t be here was Maverick’s first thought as soon as he caught sight of Emma Miller. Her gorgeous blue eyes had a deer in the headlights look, and now that he’d sent her through into the club with Dahlin, he couldn’t get her out of his head.
Not many women would have that look on their face when they entered The Club. They knew what they were getting into—Emma looked unsure—hell, she looked terrified. What was with the dress she’d been wearing? It was something his grandma would have worn.
He’d always trusted his gut feelings and right then and there, it was telling him to keep his eyes on Emma while she was in The Club. Dahlin couldn’t be trusted, and it wasn’t because Maverick had had an immediate dislike to the fucker. There was something about him—like he was too slick and smooth to be above board.
Maverick kept telling himself that she’d be safe, that it was all in his imagination, but he wasn’t all that sure that it was.
From the minute their eyes had met, he’d wanted her for himself. He’d wanted to rip Dahlin’s arm out of its socket when he’d touched Emma.
Maverick was in trouble because he should never react to a guest the way he had to Emma. The last thing he wanted was to piss one of the members off more than he usually did.
Jeffrey Dahlin was a pissant and didn’t deserve to be a member of the club. He was very close to being banned and if there was one more incident he’d be out.
Maverick wanted him out so badly that he’d hoped on Dahlin’s next visit, he would push the boundaries and be banned. Unfortunately, this was his next visit and he had Emma with him.
What the fuck was he supposed to do? Sit back and let Dahlin screw with the rules while he had Emma with him, or keep a close eye on him to make sure nothing happened to Emma that she didn’t want.
His only problem was his own want. He wanted her. The desire he’d felt the minute his eyes landed on the brunette was unexpected and he’d put it down to lack of sex in his life, until their hands had met. The touch of her skin against his palm had made him glad he’d worn a blazer—his reaction was that fast. He’d gone from flaccid to a rock solid erection within seconds. So much so that he’d felt the tingle of pre-cum as it had raced along the length of his dick the more he stared at the beautiful Emma.
Too long without a woman...
What Emma must think after Dahlin had accused him of having his pick of women every night. That ass had it coming to him and Maverick just hoped he would be the one to give it to him.
Maverick had worked at The Club now as a ‘suit’ for around eight months and in that time, he’d worked all the floors and never had a hard-on. He’d even entered one of the rooms about a month after he’d started working for The Club. He’d seen a naked woman spread-eagled with her ankles and wrists tied to upright poles in the floor. The guy had been naked and kneeling between her spread thighs while he ate her out. Her breasts had been large and swayed with her movements as she thrashed in pleasure against her restraints. Maverick had walked back out without even a twitch in his pants.
With a heavy sigh he knew he needed to check on Emma, and now.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he used the ‘suits’ way of communicating—earpiece and mic at their shirtsleeve—and had someone come and stand in for him at the door.
It wasn’t the most wanted job, but it was a job and being part of the security team paid well, which was why he’d stuck it out for as long as he had. If his buddies could see him now, they’d laugh their asses off at him working in a BDSM Club.
He sighed. It definitely didn’t tie into his plans. He’d been thinking a lot lately about putting down roots, and as he crept closer to forty, he’d even thought about a wife and kids.
The minute a wife and kids popped into his head, his mind drifted off toward Emma and her nervous eyes. She was too damn sweet for The Club...she was also too young for him. That didn’t prevent him from wanting to make sure she was okay. He could do that without getting involved with her.
He hoped.
“Hey, Mav,” Cole said as he appeared. “What’s up? I didn’t think you liked being in the club.”
“I don’t, but I want to check up on a guest.”
Cole smirked. “Wouldn’t be the chick who came in with Mr. Dahlin would it?”
Maverick’s eyes snapped to Cole, unable to control the anger that would be clear as day in the icy green depths.
“Oh, that bad, huh?”
He clenched his jaw...Cole was an idiot and probably got off every night in the voyeurism room.
Maverick wasn’t about to give Cole any ammunition to use against him during his last day of working here.
How the fuck anyone became obsessed with someone so quickly mystified him, but that had happened. Thirty minutes ago, he’d had no clue she existed and now that he did know, he had to do something about it.
“I’m heading onto the floor if anyone wants me.”
With that said, Maverick entered the club without letting Cole see how much he wanted to knock the fucking idiot’s head off.
He quickly gave a once over of the first floor before he walked around the booths, his eyes scanned the dim space as he looked for where Dahlin was hiding with Emma.
Coming up empty, he avoided the security office, and used his security clearance to move up to the second floor. He made a casual once over of the Deuxieme Bar area as he walked through and still came up empty.
He’d noticed the looks that one or two other ‘suits’ had thrown at him in surprise when he’d crossed their path, but nothing had been said. That was the way they worked though—stay hidden until they were needed.
As he made his way past some of the private rooms, he noticed only a handful were in use and he prayed the fucker Dahlin wasn’t in one.
The stairs up to the next floor were through the VIP lounge and it was as he headed through that he finally spotted Emma.
It was as though she knew she was being watched because, at the same time he froze with his gaze fixed on her, Emma lifted her head. Her eyes widened and filled with pleasure before they dimmed in sadness.
The light that was set in the center of the table gave her features a soft glow, and as she placed her drink onto the table, he noticed a slight tremor to her hand.
Was she nervous because he stared at her like he’d never seen a woman before or because she didn’t want to be in the club?
He had to find out.
He shook himself out of the lust he’d felt the moment he’d gazed upon her and strode over to where she had been left alone.
Without being invited, Maverick took the seat beside her. She shifted deeper into the booth as he crowded her. He liked the fact that she didn’t cower from him but simply made room for him. His size didn’t seem to bother her like it did a lot of people, and women usually turned the other way once they’d taken a look at the scar that covered one side of his face. He, and many of those women, considered it hideous. He used it to his advantage on more than one occasion to put the fear of God into someone. Right now while he sat next to Emma, he wished he didn’t have it.
“Where is he?” Maverick asked, wanting her to answer that Dahlin had left, even though Maverick knew he hadn’t. “Tell me, Emma.”
“He went to talk to someone. Said he’d be back in about thirty minutes...and not to move.”
Tears appeared on her lashes before she turned her head and blinked them away.
“How old are you?” he blurted.
All of a sudden, he needed to know her age because she looked so damn young that it frightened him.
His question had startled her, but she answered, “Twenty-two.”
Maverick’s heart sank. He knew she was young, and hoped that she looked a lot younger than her actual years, but she wasn’t.
He watched her as she waited for him to say something to her, but what he needed to do was back away instead of encouraging the attraction he knew they both felt.
“I’m thirty-eight...and sometimes I feel a lot older,” he admitted. “That’s sixteen years older than you.”
She offered him a wry smile. “I did quite well in math at school.”
Nodding, he didn’t find any humor in her witty reply because he wanted to crush her soft, curvy body against the hard contours of his own. But instead, he replied, “That’s the problem...you still remember how you did in school where I can’t even remember the classes I took.”
Sixteen years...She was beautiful and fresh faced...He needed her...
Reaching out, he took Emma’s hand and pulled her out of the booth with him. “I want to dance with you. Just one dance.”
“No one else is dancing.”