Surrender To Me

BANE

JESUS-FUCKING-CHRIST, my dick was so hard. As I watched Wren stalk away from me, I caught the looks from my patrons, from my Dolls. They’d never seen me with a woman like her before-one who had no idea about her sex appeal. Her sharp tongue and quick mind also turned me the fuck on.

“Want me to take care of that for you, Daddy?” Syn asked, sashaying her way over to me. I knew the moment Wren left that she would swoop in.

Dropping to the floor between my legs, she reached up to rub my dick, but I stopped her, pressing my fingers into her wrist. “No, Syn.”

Fuck, this had happened before. I’d had Dolls getting possessive over me, and I’d had to get rid of them. I didn’t belong to any woman, and as soon as they thought they did, they were gone too.

I stood, side-stepping Syn who was blinking at me like she couldn’t believe I’d turned down a blowjob. I wouldn’t have let her suck me in public, though. There were strict rules in the club, which included no sexual acts to be performed on the general floor. That’s what the private rooms were for. Syn was walking a fine line to think I would let that shit go.

When I was safely locked back in my office, I called Dagger and then got back to the paperwork that had been demanding my attention for the better half of this week. TWO HOURS LATER, Dagger strolled through the door, his hair wet and his clothes clean.

“What did you find?”

“One of Sanderson’s guys sniffing around on our turf.”

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“Why do you think I got showered and changed?” he replied. Of course. Dagger wasn’t known for his patience, and when information wasn’t given quickly enough, he tended to get out one of his knives to make the person more receptive to his desires.

I leaned back in my office chair and crossed my legs at the ankle. “Do we have anything yet?”

Dagger shook his head. “No. The guy was fucking keeping his thoughts to himself.”

I didn’t believe for one fucking minute that he didn’t know something. “You need to fucking find out. There can’t be any blowback onto the club.”

“No problem.” He turned to leave, but I stopped him. “Do you have someone on Wren?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell them to call me when she goes anywhere other than her work and home.”

Dagger pulled out his phone, his thick thumbs flying over the screen as he relayed the message. “Done. Anything else you need or am I good to walk the floor?”

“We’re done.”

He left me alone, and the silence was driving me fucking insane. I’d done all the paperwork, and the report from Dagger only made my skin fucking twitch. I needed a distraction, and the only one I could think of that I wanted was a little blonde with legs for-fucking-days. Snagging the jacket off the back of my chair, I slid into it and then made my way downstairs.

It was edging onto eight o’clock in the evening, The Dollhouse was filling up nicely. I had all the Dolls working tonight because it was the best day for them to get tips. As I strolled past the bar, the bartender, Rachel, grabbed me.

“Got a minute to talk, boss?” she asked, shoving her black hair over her shoulder. She was wearing a black teddy today, and given the nature of pouring drinks, it was the only position in my club where I allowed that amount of clothing. When I’d first hired her a couple of years ago, she’d been adamant she wasn’t going to toe the company line. After one night fully clothed, she soon figured out the tips were better the less she had on.

I checked my watch, but I had nowhere to be until I got a call from Dagger’s guy. I was going to pay Wren a little visit tonight and prove to her that agreeing to my offer would be a pleasurable one.

“Sure.”

“I was wondering if I could work a few more shifts in the future.” She dropped her gaze, and I looked a little harder at her face, at her body language. Her makeup was a little heavier tonight, and my hands balled into fists.

“Is your cunt of a boyfriend hitting you, Rach?”

She recoiled at my tone, touching the black eye hidden behind the foundation and whatever the fuck else she had on under there. “It was an accident.” “Jesus Christ,” I bit out under my breath.

“I need to get more cash together to leave him. I swear he won’t hit me again.”

“And if he does?” I slung the words at her like acid. I never understood the mentality of a woman who stayed with an abusive partner. I might use women for sex, but I still respected them and their wishes. To hit one-especially one you professed to love-was a dog act.

“One of the other girls said I could go stay with her.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Don’t wait for him to hit you again. Pack your shit up when you get home and go stay with whoever the fuck said you could crash at theirs.”

She nodded her head, her eyes downcast. “And the shifts?”

I resisted the urge to run my hands through my hair. “Of course, you can have more fucking shifts,” I snarled.

“Thank you, Mr. Rivera,” she mumbled and moved back to her post.

I stared at her in silence, wondering what the fuck would happen to her. Most people thought I didn’t give a shit about women, but the ones who worked for me were under my protection. I would fucking destroy anyone who tried to hurt them.

With that knowledge weighing heavily on me, I walked through the front door and spoke to the bouncer.

“I’m going out for a few hours. Dagger is here if there’s an issue.” “You got it, boss,” the guy replied.

I was about to walk away when I stopped, driven to ask him, “You all right? Everything okay?”

His eyes flared in surprise. “Yeah, great. Thanks.”

I nodded. “Good man. Call me if you need me.”

I strolled away from the entrance of the club, sliding into the rear seat of the town car that was parked out in front. I was being driven back to my apartment when I got a phone call from a private number.

“Target is going out tonight.”

“Where?” I demanded, gripping the phone more tightly.

“Temptation.”

I hung up and told my driver, Andy, to hurry the fuck up.