Corrupted Union: Chapter 37
Three Weeks Later
“How was your session?” Mom was in the living room reading when I arrived at their house.
My new therapist was located not far from my parents’ house, so I had my driver take me over for a quick visit. Keir had insisted on hiring a driver to be on call for me. I felt like it was a little excessive but didn’t argue. Life was too short. If using a driver gave him peace of mind, I could do that.
“It was good. I clicked well with Evie. She’s young, so I feel like we relate well to one another. I think we’ll be a great fit.”
“That’s wonderful! How did you find her? I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
I joined Mom on the sofa, angling myself toward where she sat with a blanket on her lap. “Friend of a friend. Conner gave us her name. I guess she’s somehow connected to some of his Italian family. She recently opened her own practice, and the office is super cute. It feels more like stopping at a friend’s house than counseling.”
“If that’s the case, maybe I might have to check her out.”
“I’m happy to share her info anytime.” I appreciate Mom’s enthusiasm, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. Chances were, she wouldn’t make the call. And to be honest, I’d seen such a remarkable improvement in her since the incident with Stetson that, for once, I wasn’t worried. Mom was coping with life just fine on her own.
“You sticking around for dinner?”
“No, Keir should be here soon to pick me up. I just wanted to stop in and see how you were doing.”
She tossed the blanket off her lap and stood with only a small degree of stiffness. “I’m doing beautifully, according to the doctor. No need to worry there, but I want you to come upstairs while you’re here. I almost forgot that the painters finished up yesterday.” Mom’s joy was infectious. Seeing her renewed enthusiasm for life filled me with energy and optimism.
“I’d love to see it, but I thought you weren’t supposed to be climbing stairs yet.”
“That’s just silly.” She scoffed. “My legs are fine. Now, come on.”
I was a little wary after watching Mom nearly bleed to death, but she took each step one at a time without any obvious difficulty. At the top of the stairs, the door to Ivy’s old room was wide open—something I was still not used to seeing.
“Oh, Mom. It’s perfect.” I walked inside, warmth and happiness enveloping me. The walls were a cheery pale yellow without being obnoxious. We’d spent ages looking at color swatches and debating, but I was so happy with our decision. “Ivy would have loved this.”
“I think so, too,” she said softly.
I put my arm around her shoulders for a side hug, and we gently rested our heads against one another as we took in the new room. Afterward, we spent a few minutes discussing new curtains and possibly painting the headboard before I helped her back down the stairs.
A half hour later, Keir picked me up at the house. We were supposed to go to dinner, but he had to stop by the office first. I decided to have a drink at Moxy rather than follow him upstairs. He wasn’t thrilled with my plan but begrudgingly relented after confirming Torin was there.
“Someone forgot the sugar in their sweet tea,” Stormy teased as I walked up to the bar.
I peered over my shoulder to watch Keir push through the front entrance with more force than necessary. “He’s just being dramatic.” I turned back and slid into a seat at the bar. “I wear a little pleather, and he thinks every guy in the bar is gonna hit on me.” I winked, and Stormy bent over in a fit of laughter.
“Girl, I have to say. You do look smokin’ today. The man’s not totally wrong.”
“Why, thank you. I was feeling a little extra saucy today.” I’d chosen skintight black pleather leggings and a short but baggy off-the-shoulder sweater with white sneakers. It was the perfect mix of carefree chic with a touch of sexy.
“Mission accomplished. I’ve wanted to get some of those leggings myself. Maybe I’ll wander the mall for a bit tomorrow.” She towel dried the last of a set of glasses and started stacking them upside down.
I watched her work and realized that I really liked Stormy. She was sweet but sassy and fun to talk with. She was the type of girl I wouldn’t mind being friends with, if I knew how to make friends.
Seriously, Ro. It’s time. Put your big girl panties on and ask.
Pushy much?
I cleared my throat. “Um, a trip to the mall sounds fun. You … uh … interested in any company?”
Stormy beamed. “I’d love some company. I haven’t been in the city long, so I haven’t made many friends.”
I wished my reasons for being friendless were so benign. But regardless of the past, I was doing things differently now.
“Where did you move from? Somewhere in the South, I take it?”
“I’m originally from Savannah but lived in Chicago before moving here. What about you?” She leaned against the bar, all her attention fixed on me.
“I’m a city girl, born and raised. What brought you to Manhattan?”
Her gaze lowered before she picked up a towel and wiped at a spotless bar top. “Just needed a change of scenery.” She stilled, her eyes cutting over to either side with a smirk. “And I mean, you can’t hardly beat the Moxy in terms of scenery.”
We both burst into a fit of giggles, which drew Torin’s attention. He sauntered over, lighting a cigarette while he walked.
“You shouldn’t encourage her, Rowan. She’ll never get any work done if she can talk instead.”
“It’s six in the evening,” I shot back at him, giving a pointed look around at the mostly empty club. “Surely a few minutes isn’t going to set you behind for the night.”
Tor glared while Stormy snickered.
“Don’t mind him, Rowan. His bark is worse than his bite.” She locked eyes with Tor, and something odd happened in the air around us, like maybe Stormy had somehow summoned the sultry air of a Georgia night in the middle of our New York winter.
“Pretty sure you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Storm.” Torin’s words had a new edge to them.
She arched a perfectly manicured brow, not bowing to him an inch. “If memory serves, I know better than most.”
Hot damn! Something had definitely gone on between these two, and I needed all the details.
I pulled my phone out. “What’s your number? You can text me your address, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”
“Pick her up? For what?” Torin barked.
Stormy ignored him and called out her number.
“The mall,” I said snidely as I typed. “You want to shop, too?”
He grimaced and stalked away, grumbling something under his breath about women and misery. I could hardly keep my laughter contained. Stormy was right there with me.
“Oh, man. That was priceless,” she said as her laughter calmed.
“He’ll learn better than to rile me up. I can get a little feisty sometimes.”
“Don’t I remember! I saw you up on that stage. You owned the whole dang club.”
I grinned, an idea forming. “Keir wasn’t so thrilled. But you guys have rooms for private dances, right?”
Her chestnut eyes sparked with excitement. “Wouldn’t be a proper strip joint if we didn’t. And they’re all still freshly cleaned for the night.”
Ew. I wasn’t going to think about that part.
“Do me a favor. When Keir comes down, let him know I’m back there waiting for him.”
“Yes, ma’am. But first …” She grabbed a bottle off the second shelf and poured two shots. “I’d say this calls for a drink.”
My smile couldn’t get any wider. “Bottoms up.”
We clinked glasses, tapped the bottoms to the wood bar, then downed the fiery tequila. It burned all the way down in the very best way.
I slid my glass toward her and winked. “Wish me luck.”
“Oh, I think you’re about to be plenty lucky.”
I wasn’t sure I’d laughed so freely and often in years. It felt amazing.
After I ducked into the first of the private rooms, I took off my shoes, socks, and leggings, leaving only my panties and top. The room was dark with a soft red glow and even had an elegant chandelier overhead. The Moxy was classy, all things considered, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that its back rooms were nicer than I’d expected. Simple yet clean and modern. Shiny glass tile walls gave the small space an edge, and the only other accouterments were a leather armchair and a pole.
I ensured my sweater exposed plenty of shoulder, then leaned against the pole. Keir opened the door not two minutes later. His entire body went rigid at the sight of me. All but his eyes. Those shards of blue glass melted to twin pools of liquid azure.
“I need your help,” I told him from across the room, my voice pitched low and husky.
“Is that so?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m working right now. Don’t have time to help little girls.”
I bit down on my bottom lip and peered up at him through my lashes in the most demure, cliché way possible. I started to feel a little silly until I saw the way his cock tented in his pants.
“What if … I gave you something for your time?”
“Like what?” His voice, so soft yet so heady, resonated through time and space like the rumble of distant thunder.
“I could dance for you.” My breath hitched, lifting my chest skyward. I was reenacting my first visit to the club, and even though I knew Keir so much better now, I still felt that same intoxicating spike of adrenaline I had weeks earlier.
He pulled out his phone and lifted it to his ear. “Turn off the cameras in room 1.” He slid the device back into his pocket and finally closed the door behind him. “I’m not making any promises.”
“All I’m asking is for a few minutes of your time.”
My heart skittered and whirred as he stalked closer, then lowered himself into the chair. I began to sway and roll with the music. Soon, I was fully emersed, teasing and seducing with every move of my body.
“You dance professionally?” Restraint grated away until his voice was almost unrecognizable.
“No.” I peered over my shoulder, my gaze colliding with his. “I only dance for my husband.”
His eyes flared. It was my only warning before he lunged forward and yanked me onto his lap, my legs straddling his. My center pressed against his hard length perfectly. If we sat like that for long, I would leave a wet mark on his pants, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. It felt too damn good.
“Say it again,” he demanded roughly.
I considered playing dumb but thought better of it. This was the first time I’d used the term. I hadn’t avoided it intentionally. Not really. I just hadn’t had a reason to say it.
From the looks of it, Keir had noticed, and he was hungry for more.
“My husband,” I breathed, my mouth inches from his.
His answering kiss was nothing short of savage possession. He tattooed his claim onto my lips, sealing it with an oath of forever. And I made him a vow of my own with the offering of my body and soul.
It was no great sacrifice.
They’d been his almost from the moment we met when something deep inside me recognized him as safe and familiar. Being with Keir felt like coming home, and I never wanted to leave.