Chapter 11

Ijump as a fist slams on the door again, and Nolan scowls, turning toward the sound. "What the hell?"

"No, it's okay." I push past him. "Just… Can you stay in the bathroom while I check?"

Without waiting for him to answer, I hop over the corner of the mattress and grasp the handle, cracking the door open.

Relief floods me when I find the property manager standing on the other side instead of my loan shark.

With a glance back at Nolan, I squeeze through the crack and step outside. "Hey, Mr. Bugrov, about the payment that was due yesterday?—"

"You're late on rent again." He scratches the stained, white tank top that stretches over his stomach. "This is your third time."

"Yes, but I'll pay the fine when I get paid?—"

"Three missed payments, and you're out. Them's the rules." His gaze drops to my neck, where kiss marks stand out on my pale skin, and his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. "Are you finally taking on customers? We're not supposed to allow that on the premise, but I could look the other way if?—"

The door yanks open, and Nolan steps out, a small gun pointed at the apartment manager's head. "He's not a sex worker."

Alarm shoots through me, along with a rush of warmth at his protectiveness. I place a hand on Nolan's tense arm. "It's okay. He's not going to touch me."

Paling, Mr. Bugrov raises his hand. "Sorry for the misunderstanding. When someone like you comes to a place like this, it's only for one reason."

"Nolan, please." I cast a furtive look around. "Mr. Bugrov was just reminding me that rent was due yesterday."

The muscle in Nolan's jaw ticks before he shoves his gun into his waistband.

"It was a misunderstanding. I'm Leo's boss." Nolan takes out his wallet and hands Mr. Bugrov a sleek black card with Velvet Oasis written in hot pink on the back. "Come down sometime, on the house."

Mr. Bugrov's hand shakes slightly as he reads the name. "No shit?"

"No shit." Nolan pulls out a stack of bills and holds it out. "This should cover Leo's rent and any fines."

Eyes wide, I snatch the cash before Mr. Bugrov can take it. "That's way too much. Aren't you supposed to be a businessman?"

I quickly count out the right amount, add fifty for the fine, and slap it against Mr. Bugrov's chest. "Please enjoy your evening at Velvet Oasis."

Grabbing the leather billfold from Nolan, I shove the rest of the money back inside and push him into the apartment, slamming the door.

"Dammit." I thrust the wallet back at Nolan. "I'll pay you back."

He tucks it back into his pocket. "Velvet Oasis owes you a final paycheck."

"That was more than what was owed to me." Tears burn my eyes. "I'll figure out a way to make up the difference."

I look around at what remains in my apartment. Nothing in here is worth selling, but it's everything I have in life.

Instead of telling me not to bother, Nolan nods in acceptance. "I'll help you find another job."

Surprised, I rub the sleeve of my jacket over my eyes. "At one of your other clubs?"

"No." The sharp word comes with a sense of finality.

My eyes drop to the gun in his waistband. "Where were you hiding that?"

He lifts his sweater to reveal a holster between his shoulder blades. In one smooth, practiced move, he sheathes the gun and drops his sweater.

A slight bump under the soft material gives away its location, but if I didn't know it was there, I never would have suspected. "Do you always carry that?"

"Not specifically this one, but yes." He cups my cheek. "Are you afraid?"

"A little." I shift and adjust myself in my pants. "But not in a bad way."

Nostrils flaring, he shoves me against the door, his mouth claiming mine in an all-consuming kiss that leaves my knees shaky and my dick hard.

Pulling back, he kisses my forehead. "Let's get out of here."

"Yeah, sure, get me worked up then tell me to walk." Chest heaving, I adjust myself again and grab my stuffed pillowcase.

With a self-satisfied smirk, he opens the door and gestures me back out onto the landing. "Do you want to pick up something to eat on the way home?"

I accept the change of topic for now and follow him outside, locking up my apartment. "We just ate a big breakfast. Are you hungry already?"

His gaze sweeps over me. "It can't hurt to grab a snack."

Suspicious, I struggle to walk with my heavy pillowcase off to one side so my legs don't smack into it with every step. "Only stop if you want something. I'm still full and will only have tea."

In a deft move, he trades sides of the walkway with me, putting me closer to the building, and takes my belongings, swinging them over one shoulder with ease. "I'll have Milton swing through Smooth Grooves before we take you home."

Warmth rushes through me as I think about the strawberry smoothie from last night. It makes me want to order one on the off-chance that Nolan will want to kiss me afterward.

Then the rest of what he said registers. "You're not staying with me?"

I hate how needy I sound, but I'm greedy for Nolan's company for as long as I have the right to demand it.

His hand grasps mine, twining our fingers together. "I have some work to do, but I'll be back by dinnertime."

I squint up at the sun, obscured by gray clouds. "Isn't it too early in the day for your business?"

One corner of his lips quirks. "I own more than nightclubs. My other properties operate during regular hours."

"Oh." Logically, his fortune couldn't all come from pole dancers and sex workers, but I know nothing else about him.

He must hear my thoughts, because he squeezes my hand. "We have time to learn more about each other. We can play twenty questions over dinner."

"What should I do while you're gone?" He has maids, and all the books in the office are non-fiction.

Am I supposed to sit around doing nothing all day?

We reach the street, and Nolan opens the car door for me. "What would you do if you didn't have to work?"

Uncertain of my answer, I settle into the plush leather seat as Nolan hands my bag to the chauffeur and walks to the other side to climb in.

Before my life fell apart, I was planning to major in business. It was a safe degree that could be useful in any number of jobs. If possible, I'd like to go back to college and complete my courses.

But I doubt that's the response Nolan wants. He probably expects me to have loftier dreams, like traveling the world or doing something artistic.

What would be a proper hobby for the husband of a real estate tycoon? Not that Nolan has asked me to marry him. Even if I'm only his boy toy, though, I should still pick something that would befit someone like him.

But what would that be? There are the stereotypical charities or yacht clubs, but what do people do for that?

Silence fills the car as we head out of the bad neighborhood, Nolan content to let me consider his question.

I barely register when we swing through the coffee stand, but I sip on the strawberry-banana smoothie when it appears in my hand.

Light fingers caress the back of my neck, and I glance over to find Nolan watching me.

I search his green eyes. "Tennis?"

His lips twitch. "Is that really what you want to do?"

I hunch my shoulders. "No."

He leans closer to nuzzle my ear. "Tell me what you want, Leo."

My breath hitches, and I blurt out, "I want to go back to school."

A proud smile spreads over his face. "Then you'll need to come up with a plan on how to make it happen." One brow arches in challenge. "Unless I can pay for it?"

"No." I try to put as much authority behind the word as Nolan does. "I'll come up with a plan."

"I look forward to hearing it." He nudges the straw toward my mouth. "Now, I want you to take a sip and then kiss me until we're home. I better be tasting strawberries throughout my boring meetings."

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and my eyes dart to the back of the driver's head. "Is this some kind of fetish of yours?"

His large hand cups my thigh. "You don't want to?"

Face on fire, I suck down my smoothie, then climb into Nolan's lap.

Nolan's hand absently strokes my hair. "Should we get a bigger couch?"

I pause my job-hunting to gaze up at him from his lap. "Why?"

He tickles under my chin. "Because you're the only one small enough to lie down on this one comfortably."

"True. Your decorator was shortsighted." I sit up and move the tablet I was using to the coffee table. "How much time do you usually spend here?"

"Not much." His shoulders lift, and I admire the way his bathrobe perfectly frames his chest. He finished his shower an hour ago but seems in no hurry to dress for the day. "It's farther from my businesses, so I stay in town most of the time."

Over the last week, Nolan and I have spent more time getting to know each other, and I've learned that, besides the nightclubs, he also owns several apartment complexes, buildings with business rental space, and two hotels.

I pull my knees up onto the couch and wrap my arms around them, my bare toes wiggling between the cushions. "We could move to the townhouse."

His cool green eyes study me. "The family estate has more security. I like knowing you're safe when I'm gone."

My eyes drop. I have no desire to run away from Nolan again, and the more distance from Gino, the better. But I also want Nolan to trust me, and I hate that I'm impeding his work. "I would stay inside."

A finger under my chin draws my gaze back to his. "There are some things I'm dealing with right now. Once they're resolved, we'll move to the townhouse."

My focus shifts to his knuckles, where fresh scabs and bruises add layers to the ones healing from when he took care of Rich. On more than one night, I pretend not to notice that he comes home with bloodstains on his clothes.

"Have you found anything interesting?" He leans forward to grab the tablet and peruse the job listings.

He's been helping me search for online jobs with project-oriented income instead of hours worked. The Rockford name appears on several of the applications he points me toward, which is another thing I pretend not to notice.

"There are a few data entry positions I qualify for." I scoot closer, and his arm encircles me. "The pay is enough to cover my university courses and books."

His thumb strokes my hip. "You're good with data."

My cheeks warm at the praise. In addition to car sex, I discovered Nolan's passion for detailed spreadsheets when I gave him my first presentation on how I plan to return to school without leaving home or taking money from him.

Those pie charts had him tossing me on his desk with my legs wrapped around his shoulders. Since then, I've been working on a new presentation that I hope will be equally satisfying.

As he reads a job requirement, my gaze shifts to his bare chest, inches from my face as I nestle under his arm, and his tattoo catches my eye. Though I've seen it up close several times now, it still captivates me.

I nudge his bathrobe aside to admire the clock with gears design. Its sharp black lines resemble a company logo, but not the one for Rockford Holdings. "Does this have a meaning?"

He glances down at me and smiles. "It's a metaphor, of sorts, about being part of a whole. Clocks need all types of pieces to work."

I trace the minute hand. "Did it hurt?"

"Yes, but don't tell my brothers." He tosses the tablet back on the coffee table. "It was a rite of passage. Very manly."

He's told me about growing up with extended relatives. He has two older brothers, but with his cousins added in, it's more like he has five older brothers, with two younger brothers. I can't imagine having such a large family.

I flatten my hand over his pec and feel his steady heartbeat. "Does everyone have the same tattoo?"

"Everyone in the core family." The alarm on his cell phone vibrates, and he sighs. "I need to leave. While I'm gone, your homework is to find a couch that we can lie on together."

Worry fills me as I take in the expensive furniture in the room. "Is there a catalog I should choose from?"

He kisses the top of my head. "Just pick something you like."

After he dresses and kisses me goodbye, he leaves, taking a piece of me with him.

The more I relax into my new life, the deeper my feelings for Nolan grow, and it scares me. No matter how often I repeat that this could all be temporary, my stupid heart won't listen.

Ready to bury myself in my new project until Nolan returns, I pad into the office.

I've only just dived into my files, though, when the sound of the lock clicking breaks the silence.

Pulse skipping, I hurry back to the entrance. "Did you forget…"

I trail off at the sight of the stranger standing in my sitting room. An impressive, muscular body fills out the polo shirt and khaki pants he wears, and his brown hair glints with strands of gold.

The man turns to give me a friendly smile that doesn't quite reach his hazel eyes. "I think it's time we have a conversation, Leo Daniels."