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The Night Before Christmas: Naughty Christmas Nights / The Nightshift Before Christmas / 'Twas the Week Before Christmas
Now, staring up at the building in front of them while the valet took Gage’s BMW, she desperately wished she’d stood up for her choice and had a car to escape with.
Pussy’s Galore, the neon sign screamed in bright orange.
“Are you sure this is how you wanted to pitch your argument for Milano designs?” she asked as they approached the rough-stone building. The red light flashing over the door spelled out clearly what kind of entertainment the Pussy Cats would be providing.
And it wasn’t anything Hailey wanted to see.
“I’m sure.” Gage stopped, one hand on the brass door pull, and gave her an amused look. “You’re not backing out, are you? Afraid of a little adventure?”
She figured her desire to hiss and scratch could be blamed on the club he was about to drag her into. But her reaction—a nervous knot in her stomach and a feeling of nausea clogged in her throat—was definitely fear.
She slid a sideways glance at Rudy, who was pretending to read the encased poster showcasing the evening’s entertainment. From the smile playing over his thin lips, he thought she was afraid, too.
His date, Hailey noted, was busy checking her manicure and clearly didn’t care.
Logically, Hailey knew she could object to visiting a club called Pussy’s Galore. There was nothing wrong with that. It wasn’t as if she was a prude or uptight in any way. Hell, she’d just had an orgasm with her chicken piccata.
She really didn’t want to go into a place that screamed sex. If a romantic setting with Gage inspired an under-the-table orgasm, who knew what inhibitions she’d toss aside in a sex club.
But she didn’t want to be the one who ruined the evening, either. Nor did she want to be the one going home alone by taxi while the others had fun, with Gage charming Rudy into the contract over naked bodies.
“You’re paying my entry fee, I hope,” she finally said, giving Gage a sassy look. “After all, I paid for dinner.”
“You made this sweet girl pay for the meal?” Rudy interrupted, pulled out of his fake perusal to frown at Gage. “That’s not right.”
“Romance is genderless, Mr. Rudolph,” Hailey said with a shrug that conveyed she didn’t play to the double standard. “And it was my point for the bet, so it’s only fair that I paid. Of course, that means Gage should pay for anything we encounter in here, too.”
She sure hoped the going rate for hookers was a lot more than chicken.
Ten minutes later, her wrist stamped with a go-go boot and her butt perched on a magenta fur-covered chrome stool, Hailey gave Gage an arch look.
“You said it was a house of ill repute when we pulled up.” At least, that was what she thought he’d said. She’d been too busy reveling in the memory of what his fingers had done between her thighs to be sure.
“Prostitution is illegal in San Francisco,” he pointed out with a grin. “This is a Kitty Cat Club. More upscale and diverse than a standard strip club. There are strippers on three stages, but there’s also pole dancing, a dance floor upstairs and, in case you get any ideas, a few rooms to rent by the hour in back.”
She wanted to roll her eyes and blithely dismiss the innuendo. Except her thighs were still tingling from his fingers, her panties were damp from the orgasm and, thanks to the image he’d built in her head of licking her, she didn’t think her nipples were ever going to lose their rock-hard perkiness.
So instead of being hypocritical, she opted to change the subject.
“Where did Rudy and Candy go?” She’d stepped into the bathroom after they’d entered the club and hadn’t seen the odd couple since.
“I’m not sure. He said something about getting drinks, and that he’d catch up with us in a minute.” Gage glanced toward the back with a frown. “But he headed in the opposite direction from the bar.”
She followed his gaze toward the bank of doors along the back wall, all with lights over the top, a few lit bright red to show they were occupied.
“You don’t think...”
“You don’t not think...” he countered, his scowl deepening. Hailey didn’t figure this was the moment to point out that since Rudy was here, this did count as one of Gage’s scenarios. Then she frowned, too. What if Rudy’s little private party was the kind of thing that proved Gage right, that it really was only sex that mattered?
Nope, she told herself. Not going to think about that. Rudy was the pervy, have-sex-anywhere-and-everywhere-while-he-could-still-get-it-up kind of guy. This was probably just business as usual for him.
Still... Her frown deepened. It did count as one of Gage’s scenarios. And maybe a successful one, at that.
“So you come here often?” she asked, wanting to distract both of them from the image of that skinny, old, bald man and whatever he was doing in the room with the red light.
“Do I look like the kind of guy who spends a lot of time at a place called Pussy’s Galore?” he asked, looking a little insulted.
“Well, you don’t exactly seem like the kind of guy who had to do a lot of research to come up with what scenario you thought would best prove your point about sexy lingerie.” As if to echo Hailey’s words, a waitress wearing a tiny blue teddy, stockings and six-inch Lucite heels approached them with a pitcher and four glasses.
“Pussycat punch,” she said, setting the tray on the table between them, then poured them each a glass of the neon-pink liquid. “Your tasty treats will be out in just a second, Gage.”
“Thanks, Mona.”
Mona? Hailey pressed her lips together but couldn’t hold back her laugh. Eyes wide and trying to look innocent, she met Gage’s glare with a shrug.
“What? It’s not like the reserved sign meant that this is your very own special table or that the waitress, who knows you by name, asked about your family. I believe you when you say you don’t come here all the time. I really do.”
His scowl deepened.
“She just might ask that of everyone,” he muttered. He looked so abashed, if he’d been standing he’d have his toe scuffing the floor. Hailey told herself not to melt, but man, he was so cute.
“She’d ask about your family?” she clarified.
When he nodded, the giggles escaped like champagne bubbles. She couldn’t help it.
“Look, my brother is one of the investors in this club. He’s big on keeping on top of his investments and I’ve come in with him from time to time to check up on things.”
“Of course. That makes perfect sense.” Her thoughts putting an end to the laughter, Hailey put on a serious face and nodded. “I’m sure you only visit for the articles, view the women as hardworking employees and never, ever enjoy yourself.”
He shrugged.
“I did try to pole dance once.” He gave her a teasing look. “You do know what pole dancing is, right?”
He said it as if she were a complete innocent. What? Wasn’t it enough that she designed lingerie—a product that by its very nature demanded an awareness of sex? How did that get her a ticket to the purity princess hall of fame?
Hell, she’d just let him feel her up, and bring her down, in a restaurant on what was questionably their first date.
And he still looked at her as if she were a sweet little thing who’d run screaming at the sight of a fully erect penis.
Hailey’s shoulders stiffened and her chin lifted. Was it because she was a proponent of romance? Was that why he kept dismissing her sexual savvy?
She should ignore it. She didn’t have anything to prove.
But dammit, the man made her think silk scarves, whipped cream and doing it doggy style. She’d be damned if he’d dismiss her as unworthy of those thoughts.
“Let’s see, pole dancing,” she mused, tapping one finger on her lower lip. “Crazy gymnastic moves that require an incredible amount of upper body and core strength in order to climb a hard, phallic-shaped dance partner.”
She waited for that to sink in, then leaned closer. Close enough to breathe in the scent of his soap. Close enough to see his pupils dilate and his gaze fog as the image played through his mind.
“There’s something so empowering about grabbing hold of that big, hard pole and sliding yourself up and down its length.” Her gaze locked on his, she pulled her glass of pussycat punch toward her and wrapped her lips around the straw. She waited just a second, watching his pulse jump in his throat, then sucked. Hard.
And that’s how it’s done, she thought with a grin when Gage closed his eyes and gave a soft groan. That’d show him not to dismiss her as a naive good girl.
“You’ve pole danced?” he clarified when he opened his eyes again, looking at her as if he wanted to cement that visual in his brain. “In a skimpy outfit?”
Hailey’s lips twitched and she took another sip of the surprisingly delicious punch.
“All the way to the top. In short shorts and a cropped T-shirt,” she confirmed. He didn’t need to know it’d been in a gym with fourteen other women during an exercise class. Why ruin the romance or, to use his term, the image.
“They have poles in the back for customer use. Let’s go.” He was off his stool, his fingers around her wrist before Hailey could swallow her punch.
Freaked, she started to shake her head. It was one thing to claim she’d danced the pole. It was another to do it in front of him.
“I don’t think so,” she started to say.
Before she could launch her full protest—or even come up with how to do it without making him look at her like a Pollyanna again—their waitress returned with a tray covered with snack bowls. Hailey squinted. Was that cat food?
Before she could use it as a distraction to keep Gage from trying to introduce her to a dancing pole, Rudy came strutting across the room, weaving between people like a happy rooster. Hailey didn’t wonder at his smile, given that he was followed by a very disheveled Candy, who was hand in hand with another woman.
“Three of them?” she murmured, a little awed.
“Gotta hand it to the guy. He’s not shy about having a good time,” Gage muttered back, shaking his head.
Hailey wrinkled her nose.
“I’ll bet you think this proves your point.” It was all she could do not to slip right into a pout. Why couldn’t Cherry have felt well tonight? If she’d been here, Rudy wouldn’t have gone off to get off. He’d have stayed to woo his potential spokesmodel, giving Hailey plenty of opportunity to pitch charming point after charming point.
But nooooo. Instead, she’d said maybe a dozen words to the guy and paid a couple hundred dollars for dinner. With nothing to show for it but an orgasm.
Albeit a freaking awesome orgasm.
“I don’t know if it proves my point,” Gage mused. “But it definitely proves the old man has stamina.”
Yeah. That was what he had. Stamina.
And a contract that Hailey wanted.
Which was why she kept to herself her irritation at Rudy’s eccentric—which sounded better than rude, inconsiderate and self-indulgent—behavior and everything else about this evening all going to hell.
But now they could finally get to the business portion of the night, which was the actual point behind all this craziness. Hailey straightened her shoulders and put on her best smile. The one that didn’t show how creeped out she was at imagining a skinny man in his seventies with two women who’d have to show ID to purchase alcohol, all doing sexual gymnastics in a room that looked about the size of Hailey’s shoe closet.
“Rudy,” she greeted when he drew closer. “Can I pour you some punch? It’s delicious.”
For the first time since she’d met him, the older man looked his age. Instead of bouncing on the balls of his feet, he was dragging them. His eyes were sleepy and his shoulders drooped. But his smile... Well, that was one satisfied smile.
“Gage, Hailey, this was great. Thanks to you both, I’ve discovered a new restaurant and a club. But I’m tuckered out for the night, so we’ll have to talk business later.”
“But we’re supposed to be pitching our points,” she protested.
“Just one drink?” Gage suggested, who, unlike her, sounded perfectly content to write the evening off as a pitch-fail.
“No, no. It’s my bedtime. We’ll meet tomorrow, though. You both still have two shots to convince me. Sound fair?”
Not bothering to wait for a response, he wrapped one arm around Candy, offered his other to the blonde, gave them all a wink and headed for the door.
Hailey was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open.
So much for stamina.
* * *
BUSINESS-WISE, Gage was calling this evening a total bust.
He’d set out with the intention of intimidating Hailey, charming Cherry and tossing enough sexual entertainment at Rudy that the guy didn’t give this whole stupid bet thing any attention.
He’d ended up fascinated by Hailey, Cherry was a no-show and Rudy had just walked out with way more entertainment than Gage had figured on. And not one single thing had been accomplished toward the goal of being in Tahoe by the weekend.
“Damn,” he muttered, dropping back onto the fur-covered stool.
“I’m sorry.”
He gave Hailey a skeptical look. “Yeah? Really?”
“Yeah, really,” she said, sincerity clear in those huge eyes. “It’s not fun making big plans and putting everything you’ve got into a pitch and then having it fall apart.”
Right. Because her scenario had fallen apart, too. Even though this evening had been a bust, he supposed he’d got the better end of the deal in pitching. At least Rudy had shown up for his and had enjoyed it enough that he’d remember the next day.
Her frown ferocious, like a kitten showing its claws, Hailey glared at the exit, then huffed a heavy sigh. Lifting the punch pitcher, she gestured to his glass. When Gage shook his head, she shrugged and refilled her own.
He should probably warn her that the sweet drink was eighty proof under all that sugar. Before he could, though, she drained it. The whole thing, in one swallow.
His body stirred, sexual interest once again beat out his irritation.
“Look,” she said, gesturing with both hands as if to indicate that he observe, like, everything around her head. “I want this done, too. Until it is, my future is on hold.”
“I’d have thought you’d want to drag it out. Put off the end until you’d got a side deal or other options.” He knew it was a rude assessment, but dammit, she was right. He wanted this over with.
“Why would I want to drag this out? I have a life of my own, a business to run and Christmas is only a couple weeks away. Believe it or not, I have other things to do than hang out with an old man, his treat du jour and a no-show torch singer.”
He noticed she hadn’t mentioned him on that list. Because she didn’t have better things to do than spend time with him? Or because she didn’t see him as a major factor in her life.
“You’re really looking forward to the deal being struck? Once it is, the options are done for making side deals, you know.”
And she’d have no reason to spend time with him. He couldn’t imagine a woman wanting to date the guy who’d beat her out of a seven-figure contract.
Date? Where the hell had that come from? He wasn’t a dating kind of guy. He was a fun-for-a-night guy. Maybe-a-weekend-if-the-woman-was-wild kind of guy. But his life was business, his focus success. Women, except on a very temporary basis, didn’t factor in.
And now he was thinking dating? Gage eyed the punch, wondering if the alcohol fumes were getting to him. Because he didn’t think these kind of thoughts about women. Ever.
“Well, sure I’m looking forward to it. Because I’m going to win the deal.”
Gage laughed and shook his head in admiration. She never gave up, did she?
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” He gestured to the rooms at the back where Rudy had had his fun. “You think you made a more persuasive argument than I did tonight?”
“Maybe not a more persuasive argument, given that neither of the judges was there to enjoy it. But I do think I’ll win in the long run.”
“You’re quite the idealist.”
She shrugged, either ignoring his sarcasm or floating on too much punch to recognize it.
“I figured out pretty young that things rarely turn out the way I want right away. But if I work at them, if I push and try my hardest, eventually it all comes together.”
She was fascinating. A mix of naïveté, faith, sexual moxie and determination. Throw in a gorgeous smile, her hot little body and a hell of a lot of talent, and that was one potent package. Still...she wasn’t going to win.
“Are you thinking that law-of-attraction mumbo jumbo is going to help you somehow?” he asked.
“Nope. Simple optimism. I just keep believing until what I believe is real.”
“And that works?”
Her smile dimmed for a second, then Hailey shrugged. “Sometimes it has. I’m still waiting for the others.”
“Like?”
If that wasn’t a nosy question, he didn’t know what was. But he’d had his hand up her skirt already tonight. Why balk at poking into her private life, too.
“Like, you know, business stuff. I have this secretary. She’s aces at her job, she’s loyal to the company and she works magic with numbers. But she wishes I’d disappear.”
Gage could relate. Plenty of people wished he’d disappear. But none of them had the nerve to show it to his face.
“Why’d you hire her?”
“She came with the company.” Hailey waved her hand again, as if dismissing question-and-answer period, clearly wanting to make her point. “But here’s the thing. Every month, every week. Every. Day,” she said with extra emphasis. “She’s getting closer to accepting me. To liking me. Now, would I have liked that approval and being included? Yes. Did I want to be remembered, maybe treated like I mattered every once in a while? Sure. But does it stop me from believing that I belong? That I’m important and special? Hell, no.”
She pounded her fist on the table in emphasis. Gage quickly grabbed the glasses that were in sudden danger of toppling to the floor.
Frowning, he peered at her. He didn’t know who they were talking about now, but he was sure it wasn’t her secretary.
Another man?
A vicious clawing sort of fury gripped his guts. It took him a few seconds to realize the feeling was jealousy.
He didn’t like it.
“But hey, I figure someday, she’s going to adore me. Because, you know, I’m adorable,” Hailey added, giggling and looking just as adorable as she claimed. And, he noted, looking as though the punch was having its effect.
He should take her home.
But first...
“When do you give up?”
Her frown was the tiniest furrow between her brows, as if that wasn’t a question she let herself consider.
“If it’s important, you don’t give up.”
“Isn’t it smarter to check your ROI, and if the return isn’t worth the investment, simply walk away? Quit expending energy.” Gage shook his head, unable to imagine trying over and over again without success. Or only eking a few inches of success out of any given deal. He was an everything-or-nothing kind of guy, though.
“Isn’t it smarter to do what you love, and believe that it’s going to work out exactly how you want, than to give up on a dream and settle for less?” she countered.
Gage wanted to rub his gut at that direct hit. One she probably didn’t even realize she’d made. She couldn’t know how much he wanted to leave Milano. How badly he wanted to make his own mark.
Feeling his face fold into a scowl, he tilted his head toward the door.
“Ready to call it quits? I’ll drive you home.”
“What about my car?”
“I don’t think you should be driving tonight, do you?” He arched a brow at her empty punch glass.
“I don’t feel like I’ve had that much to drink,” she said, peering into the deep glass as if measuring her alcohol levels.
“It’ll hit you in about ten minutes,” he guessed. Through discussing it, he shifted off the stool and, his hand on her elbow, helped her slide off her seat.
The fur grabbed the fabric of her skirt, though, holding tight so as she slid off, he got a delicious view of her thighs. And those stockings.
Hello, baby.
Tiny roses, tempting lace.
Damn, but she did have a point about how enticing that romance look was.
He was so focused on watching her legs, even though she’d freed her skirt and that beckoning juncture was once again covered, that he forgot to move, throwing her off balance.
“Whoa,” she said, falling against him, her hands splayed over his chest as she righted herself. Her curves were sweet and tempting, pressed against his for just a second. Just enough to tease. But not nearly long enough for his tastes.
“I guess you’re right,” she said, her voice husky. Still a little unsteady, she let go of his chest to push one hand through her hair. “You’re going to need to take me.”
9
PUSSYCATS PACKED A WALLOP.
Hailey leaned her head against the leather seat of Gage’s car and let herself float on the punch-inspired sea of relaxation.
She wasn’t drunk.
She’d been drunk a few times. So she should know.
Nope. She was just relaxed.
Her body.
Her worries.
Her gaze shifted from the blur of taillights of the other cars on the freeway to the man driving.
Her inhibitions.
She wished she were drunk. It’d make it easier to do crazy things. The kind of crazy things that wouldn’t be smart business decisions. The kind of crazy things that’d make the next week’s competition with Gage much, much more difficult.
The kind of crazy things that’d feel oh so incredibly good. Things that followed up on the incredibly good feelings he’d given her earlier.
She’d like an orgasm where she didn’t have to be quiet. She’d enjoy having one that included naked body parts. And it’d be even better if most of those naked parts belonged to Gage.
Squirming a little, she dropped her gaze to his lap, and even though it was impossible to enjoy the view since he was seated and driving, she still stared.
Because what she wanted was right there.
Barely aware of what she was doing, she reached her hand out. Maybe to touch it, she wasn’t sure.
Before she could, Gage parked the car.
“Why’d you stop?”
“We’re here.” He tilted his head toward her apartment building. Eyes wide, she followed his gesture. They were here. How’d that happen so fast?
He gave her a curious look. “Are you okay?”
She took a quick inventory. Yep, still relaxed. But there was just enough horror coursing through her at the fact that she’d been about to pet his penis to assure her that, nope, she wasn’t drunk.
“I’m fine.” She offered him a bright smile, then gathered her purse, tucked her scarf tighter into her jacket to battle the chilly San Francisco air and reached for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride.”
“I’ll walk you up.”
“You don’t...” Have to, she thought, staring at the empty seat and closed door.
Well, then.
She turned to let herself out, but Gage was there, opening her door before she could fumble with the handle. He reached out to assist her from the car. Whether because he was a gentleman, or because he was afraid she’d face-plant it on the sidewalk, she wasn’t sure.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said, stepping onto the sidewalk with her feet, not her face. Not a hint of swaying, and only the tiniest desire to rub herself against his body. She was doing great.
“I’ll see you up.”
“It’s a secure building.” She pointed at the cameras and keypad by the glass entrance. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll see you up,” he repeated. Then he gave her a cute little shrug. “Hey, it’s a guy thing. End of date, see lady to the door.”
“This wasn’t a date,” she murmured. But hey, if he wanted to go inside, ride the elevator up, walk her the thirty feet, then ride the elevator back down, that was up to him.
She just wished he’d keep a little distance between them on the way. He was so close, she could smell his cologne. She could feel his warmth, tempting her to slide closer.