No, sugar, it’s the leaving part that worries me.
“I’m not so much concerned about that. I just wanted to discuss the possibilities with you, if you were to stay in this general area. Everyone loves you around here.”
“But I wouldn’t set up shop in Divine. It’s not big enough.”
“You’re probably right, though I’d welcome the competition. But there are other towns in the area that could benefit from a nice, upscale club moving into the area. We’ve been toying with the idea of backing another club in the area…maybe Morehead. It would be a partnership. I just wanted to ask if you’d be open to the idea?”
Camilla’s smile made his heart palpitate. “Sure. You’d do that?”
“Ethan and I have both talked about it from time to time. You have the experience and you’ve done a great job here.”
Camilla’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “But I’d want my own club. Run it my own way. You’re kinda bossy, you know?”
Ben chuckled as she looked away and chewed her bottom lip for a minute. “You don’t like me bossing you?”
She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh before smiling up at him. “You know what I mean. I think you’ve been a great boss—employer. But I want to be my own boss. I’m subordinate to you here, but I also have my own ideas.”
She was right. She had a degree but she let him and Ethan run the nightclub without input. The least he could do was offer the assurance that her club would be her baby.
“Of course. We’ve known from the beginning you wanted to be self-employed. I think you’d do a great job. Let me talk to Ethan and I’ll get back to you.” Offering her that assurance didn’t mean he’d be willing to leave her to fend for herself. He never wanted her to feel like she had to pull off a huge task like that on her own. He had too much painful experience with that in his life to allow it to happen to her. He didn’t care if it meant he was a pushy bastard at times. Even in this day and age, the world was a hard place for women on their own, and he wasn’t letting that happen to her.
“Sure.”
Ben leaned closer. “And ‘Master’ loves your costume. At least this one covers your tush.” Referring to himself that way should’ve felt platonic and playful, but truthfully there was a deep part of him that did want to master her, protect her, and keep her safe. The growing anxiety that she might leave unfurled slowly, now that he knew she was amenable to their idea.
“Oh, shoot, I hope that doesn’t affect my tips!” she replied with a laugh.
Ben smiled, recalling that these were the times he enjoyed. Kidding and teasing with her. Too often lately, he’d been acting out on his territorial feelings, confusing and occasionally antagonizing her with his overbearing temper.
He turned to her to tell her he was sorry for being pissy all the time, but when he did, she turned to him at the same moment and they bumped noses. Her warm breath caressed his lips and his cock hardened instantly at the sound of her barely audible feminine gasp. For a split second, he imagined that was a sound she’d make as he slid his cock into the hot, heavenly depths of her pussy. He wanted her so much his balls grew heavy with an aching need.
She gazed at him, the sparkle going out of her eyes to be replaced by another emotion, shyness or uncertainty, he wasn’t sure. Their mouths were bare millimeters apart, and he imagined how silky her lips would feel on his. Her thick lashes lowered, and a blush darkened her cheeks. His impatience increased and he wondered if his need to have the house finished and everything set up so she’d like it wasn’t him sabotaging himself. It really came down to his need to be in control.
The electricity of the moment was broken when she raised her hands to her cheeks and she whispered, “You’d think after working as an exotic dancer I’d never blush ever again.” Just the reminder he needed of how enticing and sexy she was in her little genie outfit.
Speaking from his heart, Ben murmured back, “I think you’re beautiful when you blush. It’s a good thing.”
He looked over her shoulder and caught Quinten leaning over in the chair behind his desk to watch them. Quinten gave him a goofy grin and “thumbs-up” gestures with both hands before the chair swiveled from being cocked sideways and he landed behind the desk with a thud.
“What was that?” Camilla asked, a dazed look in her eyes.
Moving to block her view through his open office door, Ben replied, “Quinten must be moving furniture around.”
Another patron sat down at the bar, and they put a more circumspect distance between them. Camilla cast her gaze downward, and he thought he must be imagining the frustration he saw in her eyes. It’s probably just the lights.