The Sinner's Club [18+] Complete

chapter nine.

WHEN I RETURN to the club the next night—after replaying every moment of Nathaniel kneeling between my legs over and over again in my head—Cynthia tells me that I'm going to be serving drinks. The outfit she gives me is, by their standards, modest. A silk night-dress that comes to my mid-thigh.

I don't see Nathaniel at all.

When my shift is over, I stand on the side of the road, contemplating how nice it would be to own a car as I try to order a ride. The other times I've worked at the club, I've only been there for a few hours before being sent home, but tonight I worked far longer. It's late.

"Do you need a lift?"

I turn and find Reaper standing behind me. His hands are stuffed into the pockets of a black leather jacket that molds perfectly over his thickly-muscled frame.

"Uh..." I glance down at my phone. No drivers in the area. "That would be great." I need to get home to Elodie.

The silence between Reaper and I as we walk toward his SUV is deafening. Tense.

It's strange to acknowledge that this man saw me beg and come apart just last night, that he has seen me naked and I don't even know his real name. I mean, I assume it's not actually Reaper, unless his parents really hated him.

He opens the door for me and I climb in. He waits till I've done up my seatbelt to close the door.

The city is dark as we drive. I watch the passing buildings, the streetlights providing limited illumination.

"Are you alright?" He's quiet, not looking at me, but I can feel his concern. I almost bask in it. When was the last time someone showed genuine concern for me? Not since my mother was alive.

"I'm ok," I tell him. "I only had to serve drinks tonight." He already knows this, of course. He always watches me closely from wherever he's positioned in the club. "Maybe...Maybe Nathaniel is done with me. Maybe he'll just let me be."

If I have to spend my nights serving drinks for the next year or so, that is something I can live with.

But Reaper's face twists with disbelief, his sharp features accentuated by the shadows cast through the windshield. "He doesn't just let things go. For whatever reason, he's...intrigued by you."

"How long have you known him? Have you seen him act like this before?" There are so many questions I want to ask, all of them waiting on the tip of my tongue.

"Six years," he mutters. "And no. Never. He doesn't...get involved with the women who work at the club."

I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them. "I hope he just leaves me alone." Partly, it's the truth. But there is a nagging voice in my head that says I want more of Nathaniel Sterling. More than he is probably capable of giving.

"So do I."

When we arrive at my apartment building, I pause with my hand on the door. "Why are you so good to me?" I wonder.

He shakes his head, his expression always just this side of rageful. "You've been put in a bad position that you don't deserve to be in. That's...something I understand."

I desperately want to ask him why he works for Nathaniel when he clearly hates him. What does Nathaniel hold over Reaper's head? But I don't want to pry; it isn't my place. I doubt he'd answer me anyway.

"Thank you for the ride," I tell him and hop out, heading for my building. He idles on the street until I'm safely inside.

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