Masterson

ROMAN

WHEN I ARRIVE TO THE WORN metal door of Club Lotus, I double check the streets making sure that Henson doesn't have anyone watching the front of the club. This negotiation will only work if I catch him off guard. I make sure that my sidearm is securely concealed under my jacket, that I have the contract in my hands, and my phone is on vibrate. The door is open and so I immediately walk straight into the big jelly belly of security.

"What do you want?"

"Where's Henson?" I ask the four hundred pound, bald-headed man giving me the screw face.

"He wasn't expecting you."

"He'll want to talk to me. I'll be at the bar pouring myself a shot of something."

Club Lotus looks like a bomb was set off inside. That's what happens when hundreds of people panic in a closed area. Expensive sound equipment is ruined. Chairs are broken. Tables are on their sides. The floor is littered with glass, napkins, and random things like shoes and lighters. Doesn't anybody clean up in here? It's been over seven damn days.

I'm reminded of last week when I was sitting in this same corner and spotted Elizabeth as she entered the club. I'd been watching the door all night, because I was waiting for the women I hired to take their positions and begin our very much-orchestrated disruption. I'm not easily distracted from work, especially when it comes to tits and ass, but this was no normal woman.

She didn't belong here.

She didn't seem polished or pretentious, as most of the women here, although she was definitely classy. It was also obvious that she wasn't on the hunt for some dick for the night, like many of the overworked and high-strung young career women who frequented the club.

She was new, it was clearly her first time, and it irked me a little that her friend left her by herself. Men have radar when it comes to that type of shit. I could already see a half dozen men plotting on her spectacular ass by the time she took the dance floor. Did I mention that I am an ass man?

And then when she closed her eyes and started swaying those hips of hers to the rhythm of the music, I nearly lost my shit. I thought to myself, that if I wasn't on a job, how I'd walk up behind her and slide my hand down the front of her jeans inside her panties. Or maybe she wasn't wearing any panties? Hell, that would be even better.

I'd rub her out right on the dance floor and just wish a motherfucker would say something about it. She'd begin to moan out a plea for me to stop or to not stop right as she climaxed, but that's when I'd turn her around and put my mouth over hers to swallow that orgasm for her and keep it only between us.

I had been way deep inside my fantasy when I noticed some punk kid come up behind her on the dance floor. Dancing behind her ass a little too closely for my taste. It was almost as if he was in my head and was beginning to act out all the things I wanted to do to her myself. I swallowed another shot of Jack and gritted my teeth when he placed his palm on the side of her waist. The deep seated anger that I've been able to carefully keep in check and bring forward only on command was threatening to rise up. That new thing snaking in my chest was constricting my airways. Challenging me to do something about the kid. I tightened my fists as I silently dared the little man-child to touch her just one more time. If he did I was going to have to come out of the shadows and wring his fucking neck.

It wasn't part of the night's plan though, so I forced myself to calm down. I gave things another minute to play out and relaxed a little when I noticed that the object of my fantasies had it handled. She whispered something in the kid's ear, and he left with his tail between his legs; and fuck if she didn't look sexy as hell when she did it. I had to keep reminding myself that I was there for business, while I silently gawked at the first woman to ever hold my rapt attention.