His to Punish (The Cleaners Book 2) Read online

  “You do realize that the real money in my club doesn’t lie in just dancing, right? Are you prepared for that?”

  “No… I mean yes … maybe.” Jeanette corrected herself, as Huntly’s eyebrows rose, and Ty shook his head. He didn’t look pleased with her answer, and for some strange reason that bothered her.

  “Which one is it, girl. Yes? No? Or maybe? It’ll affect the terms of the contract I’ll offer you, so I need to know a definite answer.”

  Hope swelled in Jeanette’s chest at those words.

  “Does that mean I passed the audition and you’re offering me a job?”

  Huntly smiled again and nodded toward Ty.

  “What do you think? Is she good enough to dance in the club, Mason?”

  Chapter Two

  Ty barely hid his amusement as Jeanette’s head spun round toward him with a speed that should have put her at risk of whiplash. She tried to stare him down, but eventually dropped her gaze to his collarbone. It clearly cost her to do so, because a deep frown creased her forehead, and she wrapped her arms around herself in a defensive move, which pulled at his heartstrings.

  She’d exuded sex appeal and confidence when dancing. Right now, however, she looked nervous, if not to say frightened stiff, her body held rigid, as though she was afraid to break down.

  Ty exchanged a glance with Owen, and he read the same puzzlement in the club owner’s eyes.

  “You’re leaving this up to me, boss?” Ty finally said. “Not wanting a taste yourself?”

  That brought the girl’s head back up, and her sharp intake of breath seemed far too loud in the stillness of the room.

  Owen smirked and shrugged.

  “Not after the last time. No point getting attached, and besides, I’ve got my hands full with other things.”

  A shadow crossed Owen Huntly’s features. It was a mere flash of emotion, so brief Ty would have missed it, had he blinked, but it made Ty wonder just how far Huntly’s attachment to Myrtle had reached. Everyone knew he’d plucked her off the streets and made her into the success she had been, before he’d given the orders to kill her, but maybe … just maybe that cost him more than he’d let on.

  “If you’re sure, boss.”

  At Huntly’s curt nod, Ty smiled and turned his attention back to the woman on stage.

  “In that case, I’d say we have to test the theory.” One effortless jump meant he was back on stage, and Jeanette swallowed hard, taking several steps away until the pole stopped her. Using his superior body height to his advantage, he crowded her against the shiny object. Her eyes widened when she appeared to notice his erection digging into the juncture of her thighs. It made him smile, because with her killer heels on she was just the right height to fuck.

  His cock twitched at the thought, and a gasp escaped his prey. It was a matter of moments for him to grasp her delicate wrists, and pin her arms high above her head. The action pushed her impressive rack further out and into his chest, her nipples hard little points, digging into his chest. He dipped his head to lick across the rapidly beating pulse point in her neck, and her sweet and far too addictive flavor exploded on his taste buds. She tasted of caramel, with a hint of sweat and coconut oil, which conjured all sorts of images. It was, after all, his favorite kind of lube to use.

  “Please, don’t.”

  Her breathless plea stopped him from exploring the far too enticing curve of her neck further. He inhaled deeply and then brought his head up to study her.

  “Don’t what, titch?”

  He smirked at her reaction, because that frown was back and she did her best to glare at him.

  “What did you just call me?”

  Ty tightened his hold on her wrists when she pulled against him, and she glared some more at his laughter.

  “What? Titch?”

  “Yes, that. I’m not small. Were you not listening when I told your boss I got too tall for ballet?”

  Ty smirked and threw a glance toward Huntly.

  “Oh, I was listening all right. You also said you knew what the other side of being one of his dancers entails, so it’s time to test the theory. Can’t let you loose on our clients, without ensuring you’re up to the task, titch.”

  She blanched under her mocha skin and shook her head.

  “I’m not a titch.”

  “Well, you are to me. Stop struggling, girl, you’ll only hurt yourself. Then again, maybe you’d like me to hurt you?”

  Instead of succumbing to him, Jeanette struggled more. He blocked her move to bring her stiletto down on his toes, by simply picking her up and swinging her over his shoulder.

  Owen laughed, and his prey screeched like a banshee.

  “Let me go, you can’t do this, damn you. I’m not one of your whores.”

  Ty brought his hand down on the delectable ass next to his head, while maintaining a firm clamp on her legs to stop her from flailing about. Nothing he could do about the fists pummeling his back. She packed quite a punch, too, and his dick hardened further at the thought of taming all that passion. This woman would be a hellcat in bed, of that he was sure.

  “Not yet, you’re not, you mean, and perhaps you won’t ever be. After all, you might be no good at it. Now stop hitting me, girl, or I’ll be forced to tie you up. As much as I’d enjoy that, I don’t want to be drawing too much attention to ourselves when we leave. Usual protocol, boss?”

  He swatted Jeanette’s ass a few more times, and while she continued to struggle, the sweet musk of aroused woman also hit his nostrils. She might act all outraged, but she wanted him, that was for sure.

  “Yep, take her to the Cleaners’ house and report back when you’re done. Unless the lady has changed her mind about dancing for me?”

  Owen’s amusement showed in his voice, and Jeanette gave an exasperated huff.

  “I haven’t, but I object to being manhandled like sack of potatoes by your goon … sir.”

  The pause before she added that title made it sound anything but respectful, and Ty chuckled to himself, while he ran his hand slowly over the curve of her butt and pinched the crease where her ass met her thigh.

  “Ow, that hurt. Put me the hell down.”

  At Owen’s nod, Ty slowly slid her down his front, enjoying the feel of her soft curves sliding along the hard planes of his body. She was all soft and round, and judging by the blush that darkened her skin, she enjoyed that sensual slide as much as he did.

  “That, titch, was a mere kiss compared to what I have planned for you,” he said.

  Jeanette bit her lip, her pearly whites a delightful contrast to her dark skin, and Ty indulged his need to keep on touching this woman by tracing his thumb across her jaw. He then pulled her full, succulent lips away from danger. Ty let that digit linger, again fascinated by the softness under his calloused pad, and he didn’t miss the shiver of awareness that made goosebumps appear on his girl’s skin. And she so was his, regardless of what she might have to say about it.

  This chemistry they shared was too potent not to explore, and then there was the underlying current of animosity he sensed, directed at Ren. The man himself had reappeared from out back. When he seemed to notice her reaction to him, he stopped in the middle of tucking his shirt back in his jeans. Ren crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the wall and quirked a silent eyebrow in query.

  That earlier itch crawled back up Ty’s spine, and he turned his attention to the woman in front of him.

  “I promise you’ll enjoy yourself. After all, if I went to investigate that sweet cunt of yours, I bet I’d find it nice and juicy.”

  Jeanette swung her gaze back to his, and if looks could kill he’d be six feet under already.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said.

  Ty slid his hand down to her throat, and she stiffened when he tightened his hold. Not enough to cut off her air supply—yet—but it was a silent warning nonetheless. One she heeded beautifully, because she went very still.

  “Good girl.” Ty
whispered the words and leaning in closer, dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. She went cross eyed trying to keep her focus on him, and her breathing grew shallow.

  “Besides, I can smell how wet you are for me, so be a good girl and stop fighting this. I’ll take you one way or the other, but it will be much easier on you if you simply comply.”

  Having made his point he released her, satisfied to see her make a grab for the pole, as though her legs couldn’t quite support her weight right now. She groaned when Owen addressed her.

  “So, let me ask you this again. It is a yes, no, or maybe still, to the other duties which will be required of you in my club, girl?”

  ****

  Damn it all to hell and back.

  Jeanette inwardly cursed a blue streak any sailor would have been proud of while she desperately tried to keep her composure on the outside. She forced herself to let go of the white knuckled grip she had on the pole, and pulled a much needed breath into her oxygen starved lungs. Why, oh, why did she have to meet someone like this Ty here? Like it or not, he made every feminine cell in her body sing, and rather than be disgusted by this caveman possessiveness he exhibited toward her, she was turned on beyond measure.

  It wouldn’t do, this insane attraction. For all she knew he’d had a hand in her sister’s demise, and she should want to scratch his eyes out, not fall at his damn feet.

  “Answer me, girl.”

  Startled by the club owner’s harsh tone of voice, Jeanette told her brain to shut the fuck up.

  “It’s still a maybe, sir, sorry, and I fail to see why I have to go anywhere with him.”

  She risked a glance up at Ty Mason, and instantly wished she hadn’t. The glittering intensity in his dark eyes, his entire focus seemingly on her, was most disconcerting. It made her want to throw caution to the wind, and to simply take what he offered. Besides, this was the in she needed, wasn’t it?

  It took immense effort to break their stare, and shaking her head, she addressed Owen.

  “Why do I have to go someone’s house? I have my own home. I don’t need to—”

  “The job comes with live-in accommodation here at the club. If, and I say if Ty deems you worthy, then here is where you’ll be expected to live and entertain.” He paused as if to make sure his words sank in, and when she simply continued to stare at him, he smiled.

  “It’s for your own safety, girl. I look after the girls who work for me, and experience tells me this is the best way. There are exceptions to that rule, of course, especially, once you’ve proven your loyalty to us. Until that point, you’ll be assigned to one of the Cleaners.” He nodded toward Ty. “As Mason wants you, you’re his. Those are my terms. Accept them or walk out and never darken my club doors again.”

  Ren moved closer, seemingly intent on helping to evacuate her from the building, and the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  “If this is all to keep your girls safe, as you put it…” The club owner’s eyebrows rose at the intonation she’d unwillingly put on that word. She knew she shouldn’t carry on, but seeing Ren strut his stuff, made her want to hurl something at him, and meant she threw caution to the wind. “Then why did that dancer end up as fish food in the canal, if you don’t mind me asking, that is … I mean?” She couldn’t continue, because Huntly grew tense, and she realized she was so overstepping the mark here.

  Ty stepped closer to her, and she winced at the iron band his fingers formed around her elbow. He yanked her back against his solid frame, and when she looked up at him, his expression had turned into a closed off mask. His dark eyes glittered with dangerous intent, and for the first time she truly felt afraid.

  What are you doing? These men are killers. Why are you antagonizing them?

  The little voice in her head taunted her, only to be interrupted by the club owner’s cool voice.

  “Which dancer would you be referring to, girl?”

  Jeanette tried to push away from the quiet menace Ty presented right now, but she should have known that would prove a useless exercise, because her other elbow was grasped in a viselike grip, which would surely leave fingerprint bruises behind on her skin.

  “I’d answer him, girl.”

  Ren’s deep, commanding drawl brought her attention back to him, and she swallowed hard. Standing perfectly still, his head cocked to one side, he was watching her every move. Coiled, ready to strike like a deadly snake stalking its prey, he looked as though he’d earned every one of the rumors surrounding him. Unwittingly her gaze strayed to his large hands. Held loosely next to his denim clad thighs, they brought her reality home more than anything could have done. Everyone knew Ren killed with his hands, and Jeanette swallowed convulsively to stop herself from being sick.

  Ty’s fingers dug deeper into her arms, and his hot breath ghosted across her jawline as he spoke to her.

  “You’re testing our patience, titch. Start talking, or so help me, I’ll make you talk.”

  The inherent threat in those softly delivered words for her ears only shouldn’t make her heart beat faster in excitement. It really shouldn’t. Yet, held up by the strength of the male, hard body surrounding her, his scent invading her nostrils, and the stubble on his jaw creating delicious shivers of awareness to chase each other across her skin, that’s exactly what was happening. All of her senses seemed heightened by the dangerous atmosphere she found herself in. It was crazy. That’s what this was, but in a strange way it helped her understand the path her sister had chosen a little better. Myr had always gone for the bad boys, sought the next adventure, and it had driven a wedge between them when they were growing up.

  Now, well now it was all too late, but Jeanette could do this small thing for her to make amends. To right a wrong, and to seek revenge.

  “I don’t recall her name now, but she was all over the papers a while back.” The lie came surprisingly easily, and Jeanette forced herself to hold Huntly’s searching gaze.

  “Let me refresh your memory then. Her name was Myrtle, and she was indeed my top dancer…” A shadow crossed his features. The act was so brief that Jeanette wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t imagined that flash of emotion. “Until she decided to leave my employ, and thus, my protection. I’m glad you brought her up, actually, as Myrtle’s unfortunate end…”

  A grim smile played across his features when he said that, and it took all of Jeanette’s willpower to not scream at him, unfortunate, my ass. She was murdered!

  She didn’t do anything of the sort, of course, mindful of the fact that her own life was at stake here, so she gritted her teeth instead, and forced a smile, of sorts, on her face.

  “Like I said, as unfortunate as that was, it demonstrates my point quite clearly. Myrtle brought her demise on by herself. Had she stayed loyal and thus under my protection none of that would have happened.” He paused, and this time his smile was pure evil. It made Jeanette step back and seek the solid warmth of Ty’s protection, which should have been an oxymoron, but right now it made sense to her. She certainly would not get any help from Ren or Huntly, who studied her again as though she was an interesting species of microbe under the microscope.

  “I see.”

  Ty’s sigh behind her raised the fine hair on her neck, and belatedly she realized that he was resting his head on her shoulder.

  “Titch, do you have a death wish?” The murmured words made her turn her head slightly, so that she could see his expression, and she shook her head.

  “Could have fooled me,” Ty said, and straightened up again. He also released his hold on her, and Jeanette felt strangely bereft without his body surrounding her. She wrapped her arms around herself instead, and kept her gaze on Owen Huntly’ shiny black Italian loafers instead, as she murmured her apology.

  “Sorry, I’m just trying to get this straight in my head, that’s all. You say you protect your girls, but what happens when they’ve had enough and want to leave?”

  “Nothing, they leave.” Ren replied instead
of Huntly, and when she risked a glance up at the club owner, she saw him give a sharp nod.

  “Just like that?” she asked.

  “You heard Ren. I see no reason to repeat myself here. Now, like I said, give me your answer or leave—”

  “Yes.”

  Ty sighed again, Ren shook his head, and Huntly smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes, and he addressed the man behind her instead of her.

  “You’ll have your hands full with this one. I expect a report on her abilities when you’re done with her. Depending on what that says, I’ll have a contract drawn up for her to sign.”

  Owen dismissed her with a wave of his hand and gesturing for Ren to follow him, left the club floor. It placed her on her own with Ty Mason, and her heart turned into a jackhammer, when he stepped around her and held out his hand.

  “Let’s go, titch.”

  She grimaced at that word he insisted on calling her, and amusement twinkled in his dark gaze.

  “Get used to it, girl. Now, how did you get here? Public transport or…”

  Jeanette shook her head.

  “My car is parked in the multi-story round the corner. Why?”

  Instead of answering her Ty looked toward his hand. Taking the hint, Jeanette took it and immediately wished she hadn’t. The jolt of connection that shot up her arm at the innocent enough contact was hard to take, made ten times worse by Ty’s sharp intake of breath, as though, he, too, had felt that. He tightened his hold on her hand and drew lazy and far too arousing circles over the back of it with his thumb.

  “That wasn’t so hard now, was it, girl? As to why I asked after your car, I would have thought that was obvious. I jogged here today, and we’ll need transport to get the Cleaners’ house. I’d have had to have nicked one of the boy’s cars to take us there, but we can take yours, so it’s all just fine and dandy.”

  “He wasn’t kidding about that then? I’m expected to live with you?”

  Ty surprised her by pulling her hand up to his mouth and dropping a kiss on back of it.