The Sculptor's Seduction (The Gentlemen's Guild Book 2) Page 13

  Jaw tight, he watched her body roll back up against the rod; her hips, then stomach, then chest pressing against the cool metal. Her head tipped back, that same fucking seductive smile slipping over it – the one she always tried to use on him; the one that he knew was fake even though her body’s response to him wasn’t.

  She sauntered around to the front of the pole, her hands behind her, steadying herself on it. Her eyes were trained on Mr. GQ, as she slowly dropped down again, her thighs wide, her dress bunching to give him a perfect view of what was between them.

  What was his.

  Sloane couldn’t remember the last time he was this blinding and burningly enraged. Even the time that Pierce had had to pull him off of his father… that was nothing compared to this.

  What the fuck was wrong with him?

  He knew she was an escort. And now he knew why she worked until exactly midnight – because she was a stripper too. None of this entire fucking situation should surprise him, except for the fact that up until now it had only been a concept in his mind; now he physically saw her, her beautiful body barely concealed as she made every other man in this room want her.

  But she was his.

  No, she wasn’t.

  His hands clenched into fists, commanding himself to relax back further into the chair and the darkness that was consuming him. His forced breathing becoming even more strained as the performance became even more provocative.

  Cyn had slid back up the pole. Her hands began to run up the length of her legs, pulling up the edge of her dress slightly as they crested over her hips. Moving onto her torso, they pressed up over her breasts as her head tipped back. Finally, they ended their path around the back of her neck and Sloane knew that he was royally fucked.

  From his vantage point, he saw her fingers deftly untie the straps that held her dress up. The two strands falling in front of her chest, but revealing nothing since the material was practically painted onto her.

  His mouth went completely dry as she swayed against the pole, her hands grabbing the untied strands, teasing the dress down over her breasts. Sloane closed his eyes for a second, the sight – everything – was too overwhelming. He was about to explode and either kill someone or cart Cyn out of here over his shoulder and tie her to his bed so that she could never do this for someone else ever again.

  When he opened his eyes again, he was blinded as the dim lights twinkled off of the jewels encrusted onto the bra that she was wearing. Except it was like no bra that he had ever seen. It had red piping along the edges and seams, but the rest of it was made out of a completely sheer fabric, giving anyone who was looking at her an essentially unobstructed view of the soft skin underneath. The only thing that obscured her breasts and nipples were the jewels that were attached in various clusters along the transparent material. If he didn’t look too closely, Cyn looked like she just had crystals magically attached at various places on her breasts; the bra gave the perfect illusion of almost complete nudity.

  Which could only mean that what was to come would follow with the same design.

  As if knowing that his heart couldn’t take any more at that exact moment, she spared him; her strut returned as she walked around the pole gathering speed and lifting herself up off the floor again. She did a half-turn, stopping herself to face the back of the room. For a second, Sloane almost thought she’d seen him, but then her body kept moving, incognizant of his presence.

  Cyn used her arms to hoist herself up farther, locking her thighs onto the pole, she let her legs cross and extend straight out towards the back of the room. With one hand on the pole, her torso leaned back slowly as she stretched her other arm straight out at Mr. GQ, who now had a straight line of sight down over her chest. Sloane could just imagine the view that he had – the pristine expanse of her neck as it transformed into the enticing swells of her breasts that would now shimmer as the lights reflected directly onto them.

  She lifted herself back up, spinning back down the pole to stand – and to finally remove her dress from around her hips. And just like she had the other night, her thumbs hooked underneath the fabric as she made a show of drawing it down over her legs.

  Sloane bit into the side of his cheek until he tasted blood. From where they sat, she gave them full view of the two perfect globes of her ass and a hint of what was between her thighs, shimmering under the lights as she was covered with a matching jeweled thong. One leg stepped out of the dress and the other kicked the fabric right onto Mr. GQ’s lap. He was sure the videographers must have loved that…

  GQ could keep the fucking dress because that was all he’d ever get to touch of her if Sloane had anything to say about it.

  As she spun around the pole again, Sloane glanced around the room. Not that he could really see any of their faces, but he knew that every man in that room was imagining himself fucking Cyn and the thought destroyed him on the inside.

  Using her momentum, she lifted off the ground again, her hips resting on the side of the pole facing towards the back of the room. For a second, he saw her seductive mask falter; he saw his brave, beautiful, and yet vulnerable Cynthia wondering just what she was doing there. In an instant, she was gone, and the Cyn who enjoyed controlling men through their desire was back. And then, in what Sloane could only describe as a move of erotic magic, one leg lifted up and wrapped around to the front of the pole, extending up its length, while her other leg dropped down. Her practically naked torso then bent backward down the front of the pole so that she was again facing – upside down – the man who must be the guest of honor to be receiving such a goddamn exquisite view.

  The weight of gravity accentuated the sparkling mounds of her breasts, while her legs were basically separated into a split, giving mostly everyone a clear vision of the jewels between them. She stayed there for a few moments as the music finally began to slow before gracefully flipping upright just as it stopped. It took the soft rumble of applause throughout the room for Sloane to realize that her performance was over.

  “How was that for a Friday night out?” Pierce whispered laughingly to him.

  Sloane’s gaze finally broke from Cyn long enough to give Pierce a look that was as cold as ice. “You fucker.”

  “You mean she didn’t tell you that she worked here?” Pierce played innocent, like Sloane should have known all along. “I thought you knew man. She’s excellent – it’s no wonder I recognized her at the Roof the other week.”

  Goddammit. God-fucking-dammit. He should have goddamn known that Pierce had this shit all played out in his mind.

  Sloane looked back at Cyn just as the lights began to rise slightly. If she looked over here now, she would see him. He needed to get out of here. “Don’t get your panties in a giant bunch there, bud. The show’s not over yet.”

  “What the fuck do you mean?” His entire body went from red-hot rage to ice-cold fear.

  “That was just the tease.” A giant smile broke out over Pierce’s face. “We’re going to film her giving a private dance to that lovely gentleman over there.” Sloane watched his friend’s gaze flick over towards the front of the room; he didn’t need to follow it to know where it was headed. Mr. Fucking. GQ.

  Instead, he moved his eyes back onto his beautiful ballerina who was speaking intently with Terrence. He watched for a moment just before the large, black man who seemed to be directing the show nodded in their direction. Those few seconds slowed painfully as she turned to look in their direction. First, she recognized Pierce and then her gaze fell on him. He watched as shock overtook her comfortable confidence. Her eyes widened and that deliciously sexy and sinful mouth of hers parted in surprise. Most wouldn’t have noticed the difference since her skin was so fair, but Sloane saw it change from pale to ashen. He knew that he was staring at her with a look that mixed anger, possessiveness, and betrayal; he also knew that there was nothing she could do about it right now.

  Terrence placed a hand on her shoulder that shook her from her shock; her head immediately tu
rning back to face the ring leader of this sultry circus. Similarly, Pierce clapped him on back as he stood; for his own sake, Sloane ignored the slight adjustment that Pierce made to his own pants.

  “Alright. On to round two. You ready there Sloane? Or do you need a minute to cool off?”

  “I’m not fucking staying for that.” He stood, buttoning his jacket to give himself some sort of shield over his evident physical reaction.

  “Why? Don’t be such a pussy. You just told me to my face the other night that you didn’t have feelings for her, so this shouldn’t be a problem. Or you lied to me, in which case you are so fucking fucked; she’s a high-class hooker, Sloane. Fuck her, don’t fall for her.”

  In a split second, Sloane spun and his hand was wrapped around Pierce’s neck, his other arm drawn back ready to strike.

  “I’m going to give you the one fucking thing that Tris didn’t: a warning.” He bit out, his breath coming in rough bursts as he barely restrained himself from pummeling his ‘friend’. “If you ever call her a fucking hooker again, what I did to my father will seem like a goddamn day at the spa compared to what I will do to you.” He released Pierce who actually had the decency to look apologetic for what he’d said. “Now, I’m leaving.”

  Pierce, intelligently, said nothing as Sloane turned to the door, only then realizing that Terrence, Mr. GQ, the videographers, another well-dressed gentleman, and Cyn were all staring at him.

  His eyes locked with hers for a second before he stalked out the door, too overwhelmed with every emotion to even see straight. His breathing was ragged, as though his autonomic nervous system was suddenly shot and he had to manually control the expansion and contraction of his lungs. He ripped off his jacket as soon as he stepped outside; his entire body was on fire – fighting between rage and desire.

  A stripper. Cyn was a stripper. She had danced in three years. Pierce knew.

  Sloane saw spots of red and white flickering in his vision.

  He needed to get out of here.

  He needed to get her out of his head – and the only way to do that was to carve her out.

  She was a talented stripper alright; so talented that she’d goddamn stripped his heart raw.

  Chapter 10

  She was hot, sweating, and her heart was pounding so loudly that she could barely hear what Terri was saying over its beating. Oh, and none of those things had anything to do with the physical exertion her performance had required.

  No, they had everything to do with Sloane.

  She blinked in a daze, wondering if he had really been here. If Pierce hadn’t still been present, she might have second-guessed her memory.

  What must he be thinking?

  She had an idea from the look that he gave her. It was only in those few seconds that she’d been pinned by his stare that she’d felt frozen. His crystal blue eyes, like shards of ice, sliced into her with every unpleasant emotion she’d made him feel. She wouldn’t be ashamed.

  No, absolutely not.

  She did however, feel nauseous with guilt over not telling him, even though it’s not like he had a right to know. Hey, it’s not like he told her about owning RSP. Plus, Pierce had been here before, why wouldn’t he have told him? She had a feeling she knew why… Still, it didn’t sit right with her; she wanted to see him, to talk to him. She needed to get out of here, but there was still another hour left of the night and another performance she was slotted to do for the advertisement.

  Her blank stare shifted over to Pierce. She didn’t know what happened between the two of them, but it wasn’t good. Sloane had looked like he was about to kill his friend and she had a feeling that it had something to do with her. For the first time since she’d met him, Pierce actually looked disconcerted. The scar that was peeking out from underneath his collar was twitching and the look on his face was no longer dripping with confidence; the man looked like he just realized that he’d crossed a line. No, not crossed, more like danced a jig right over it and now grasped that his entertainment might have cost him more than he was planning.

  “Cyn, are you alright?” Terri’s worried voice in her ear turned her gaze again, meeting his equally worried expression.

  “Yeah… ahh… I think…” Her words stumbled out. “Maybe I just need some water.”

  “Girl, you look like someone just stopped your heart. I don’t think water is going to get it pumping again, but that’s just me…” Even his heartfelt concern could not hinder his sassy responses. He motioned to one of the girls to go get a glass of ice water. “She’ll just be a minute, Mr. Lane, and then we can get the second bit.”

  Pierce looked to be lost in his thoughts until Terri said his name.

  “No.” His unusually hoarse voice cut through the commotion. “We have enough for now. We’re done for tonight.”

  Cyn heard Terri’s faint squeak, probably about to ask why or when or something, but Pierce’s attention was already drawn elsewhere. Terri quickly turned to Sebastian to thank him for his assistance. A look passed between them, but Cyn didn’t give it a second thought, assuming it was just to make sure Sebastian knew just how grateful they were. Cyn took several sips from the glass of water that had been brought over – a brief respite from the heated chaos that was going on inside of her.

  “Cyn, you were fabulous – as always.” Sebastian’s voice murmured into her ear. She opened her eyes just as he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

  “Thank you.” She smiled.

  “Go get some rest, you look like you could be coming down with some sort of sickness.”

  Yeah, a sickness called Sloane.

  “That is what I just told her,” Terri chimed in, always eager to be on Sebastian’s side. Cyn just rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously, if we are done filming for the night you should go home. Don’t even worry about it.”

  “Good thinking, Terri.” Cyn could practically hear Terri’s silent, inner squeal of excitement. “Cam and I will be back in in about two weeks; we might have a late-night party for you to attend with us if you are up to it. We’ll text you.”

  Cyn just nodded as he kissed her cheek again and walked to the door.

  “Yes. Go home. Feel better,” Terri said, kissing her cheek too before he followed Sebastian downstairs to say good-bye.

  Cyn sighed, glancing around at the videographers packing up their equipment. She turned to walk towards the back of the room to go to her dressing room, but Pierce stepped in her way.

  She raised her startled gaze to his distraught one. “What happened?” She blurted out.

  Regret etched across his face. “I went too far.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Go see him. And go easy on him.” He practically pleaded her.

  “Why did he look like he wanted to kill you?”

  Pierce let out a bark of self-deprecating laughter. “Because he did.”

  “Tell. Me. Why.” She demanded, not caring how foolish she looked, standing practically in the nude, commanding this heartless man to answer her.

  “Because he came with me tonight thinking that he’d have a few hours of distraction from you, when the reality was that I brought him here because I knew it would torture him into action and I thought that would be entertaining.” His eyes flared with self-loathing. “I was wrong.”

  “Why would you do that to him?”

  “Because he thinks he’s so high-and-mighty with his no-drinking, no-fucking attitude and not only does it piss me off, but it’s destroying him; I don’t know everything that fucked him up to start with, but I do know that whatever it is, is continuing to run his life.”

  Even though Pierce’s words gave her new insight, her brain was on fire with the adrenaline of what had just happened and in turn, she pushed even further. “But then why didn’t he leave when I started? Why wasn’t there an issue while I was dancing or right when I was done? What. Happened. Afterward?” Her eyes were locked with his, refusing to let him move until he answered her. “Why did he look r
eady to kill you?”

  “I accused him of having feelings for you.” Ok, so what? “And of lying to me about them.” Still, the look in Sloane’s eyes hadn’t been just rage, it was murderous.

  She blinked furiously, trying to hold back frustrated tears. “Goddammit Pierce, what else?” She was on the brink of murdering him if he didn’t answer her.

  “And then I told him having feelings for a high-class hooker was a giant, entertaining mistake.”

  Crack.

  Cyn clapped a hand over her mouth in shock; she’d just slapped Pierce across the face and she hadn’t even known it was happening. She’d heard the words and then next thing she knew her hand was already across his cheek.

  Not that what he said didn’t warrant it.

  “I…” she stammered.

  His hand that had come up to touch his injured cheek raised in front of her. “Don’t.” Cyn thought he was going to be livid; instead, the eyes that met hers were steeped in angry resignation. “Don’t apologize, Cynthia. I deserve much worse and I’m not the one you need to be concerned about right now. Go see Sloane. Now.”

  The harshness in his tone sent a shiver of fear up her spine. She turned and darted into her dressing room, changing as quickly as her shaking hands would let her.

  Cyn sent up a silent prayer of thanks when she arrived to find the flower shop unlocked and the upstairs windows lit. On the cab ride over the thought had struck her – what if he’d just gone home? What if he wasn’t at the studio? She wasn’t prepared to knock on every apartment door in One57 to try and find him.

  Her relief disappeared just as quickly as it had come when she stepped inside the floral sauna. Loud, repeated bangs reverberated through the entire building; and if they were loud down here, she could only imagine how deafening they were inside the studio.

  Her ballet flats were practically silent as she quickly climbed the staircase. She threw the door open to his studio and walked inside before she had time to think about just what she would be walking in on.