Black Romance - 12 Sal

Who the fuck does that guy think he is?

Standing in the bathroom, I gripped the dirty, stained porcelain sink, and let my head hang loosely on my shoulders. I wanted that man gone, I waned him to never step foot in the club again.

And yet, there was nothing I could do to stop him.

I had no power there. I had no authority to send him away. My feelings meant nothing.

Letting out a weighted breath, I turned on the sink and splashed some cool water on my cheeks. Drying my face with a few paper towels, I stiffened my back, drawing out all the strength I had to forget that guy was even out there.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I opened the door, walking back into the dressing room.

“All set? You take care of everything you needed to?” Vinchezo asked, glaring at me under hooded lids.

“All set,” I said, holding out my arms. Recognizing the song on the speakers, I knew he had sent another girl up on stage and relief washed over me. “Am I good for a bit?”

Shaking his head, he glanced at the private room. “No, you got a customer.”

“Already?” I asked, arching a brow.

Vin cocked his head back, a stark frown falling over his lips. “Enough questions, just go.”

Dragging my feet, I walked over to the door, readying myself for whatever waited inside. It was always a mystery. I never knew what type of jackass to expect.

Some of the guys were shy, quiet, a little on edge. While others were ready to jump you the second you opened the door. They were sitting there like a dog, skittish with their tongues hanging out, their muscles anxiously trembling to pounce the second the door was closed.

The knob felt cold against my palm, sending a shiver up my arm as I turned it. The room was always dark, sometimes too dark.

What if it’s him?

Pushing the thought away, I stepped inside. Blinking wildly, the figure of a man was outlined against the back wall, his silhouette an ominous statement in the room.

Putting on my fake smile, I started forward slowly, waiting for my eyes to settle. “Hi there, my name’s Ash, I bet you’re—” Drawing in a thick swig of air, my voice caught in the back of my throat. “You.” The word shot out, harsh and jagged.

I fucking knew it!

“Don’t sound so happy to see me.” The man leaned forward, the white of his eyes popping under the black light as he smirked with a devilish grin.

It was him. The man I wanted to run away from, the man I never wanted to see again; the man who had gotten my ass tossed into the ditch for three days.

“What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, his smile spreading wider.

Wrapping my arms around my ribs, I veered my stare. “I’m not doing this again, you need to go.” Jerking my head towards the back door, I snarled. “Go, get out of here.”

“Well, that’s no way to treat a paying customer.” Relaxing back, he pushed his big palms into the tops of his knees. “Because I do believe I’m paying you.”

“I don’t want your fucking money, I want you gone.” Throwing my arm out, I shot a finger towards the door. “So get the fuck out.”

I knew I was breaking the rules, I knew what would happen if Virgo found out I had turned down a customer, but I didn’t care.

“You said your name’s Ash?” he asked, tilting his head. His dark hair swept across the top of his brows, covering his right eye. “Is that your real name?”

“First off, it’s none of your business and you were just leaving anyway.” Crossing one leg over the other, I squared my shoulders and tipped my chin higher. “The door’s right there, don’t let it hit you in the ass on the way out.”

Chuckling, the man smiled, brushing the hair away from his face. “You’re different tonight, you seem angry and pissed off. . .” Pausing, he let his eyes ride up and down my body. “What happened to making my desires come true?”

Scoffing, I rolled my eyes. “You can shove your desires up your ass.”

“What did I do to make you so angry? I paid you well last time—very well, if I remember right. And you didn’t have to do a damn thing. I think you should be thanking me for not making you shame yourself anymore than you already do working at a place like this.”

“Thanking you—thanking you?” My jaw hung wide open as I glared at the man. “You got me in trouble!” Holding onto the rest of my yell, I lowered my voice so Vin didn’t hear me. “You left me way more than you should have for what I did, and that pissed off my boss.”

“I’ve never heard of someone getting angry for willingly being paid too much. Your boss must be an asshole.”

“My boss isn’t the issue here—you are.” Pointing in his direction, I clenched my jaw.

Thinning his lips, the man furrowed his brows. “Then why does he care what you made, so long as you made it? Seems to me like he might be an issue.”

Dragging my fingers over the top of my head, I dropped them to my hips. “Look, I don’t want any more trouble. Can you just go before this gets out of hand and you end up fucking me again?”

“I haven’t fucked you yet, if I did, you wouldn’t be asking me to leave.” His smile returned, causing a flutter in my gut.

The feeling was foreign. My stomach never clenched because of a man, it never tumbled or knotted up. But this man, this man had magic in his voice and spells in his eyes.

His jaw was sharp, his chest thick and muscular. Almond shaped eyes were framed by long lashes, longer lashes than I had ever seen on a man before. His hands were bear sized, arms as dense and wide as tree stumps.

I could feel myself falling, my body growing heavy, causing me to teeter on my heels as my muscles tingled with sensations that had no place there to begin with.

Taking in a deep breath, I kept my eyes sternly on his. “Why are you doing this?” I asked, shaking my head in confusion. “Are you always an asshole? Last time it looked like you wanted out the second I walked in, but today I can’t get you to leave.”

“Maybe I just wasn’t in the mood for games last time. Today I am.”

“God, you remind me of someone I met once.” Folding my arms across my chest, I rolled my eyes.

“Oh yeah,” Arching a brow, he eyed me. “Was he an asshole too?”

“Actually, no.” Plucking at my bottom lip, I flirted my eyes up to his. “Maybe a little,” I said half smirking. “But it’s not that, it’s the confidence. You have too much of it in a place that’s not yours to show it.”

“Confidence—is that what you think you see?” Our eyes bounced over each other as his lips curled to one side. “It’s not confidence you’re seeing, it’s power.” Taking out his wallet, he threw some bills at my feet as he stood up. “Tell your boss you did whatever that would normally get me. I’m paying you enough to lie to him, so make it believable.”

You don’t know my boss. . .

As he walked to the door, I called out,” Hey, wait—”

The man stopped short, his hand curled around the door knob, his eyes peeking at me over his shoulder. He didn’t say a word, he just waited for me to speak.

“You got a name?” I asked.

“That depends on who you ask, but you can call me Salt.”

“Salt? Seriously?”

Yanking the door open, he stepped back into the club, not giving me anymore answers.

Salt? What the hell kind of name is that?