Chapter 2 Pants Down

Cold air slapped against Catherine's face as she ran, blinded by tears, her chest heaving with each breath. Her legs burned, but she didn't stop. Not until her foot caught on an uneven pavement did she crash to the ground. Pain shot up her leg with a scraped knee, but she did not notice it much. The ache in her chest, the suffocating weight of betrayal, swallowed every other sensation.

She lifted herself pushing herself up, stumbling on wobbly legs, and at last, seeing her surroundings. Her breath hitched.

The club.

The place where she and Alex had spent countless nights, where they had celebrated his birthday, where she had first met the man who shattered her heart.

Memories pestered her, but rather than flinch, she stepped closer to the inside.

The thumping bass vibrated through her bones. Low neon lights washed the scene in reds and blues. Laughter, toasting, and the smell of liquor hung in the air. She reached the bar, pushing herself for balance while grasping its edge. Prostitution attendees hold onto each other while dancing on the pole. Their movements are daring and beautiful.

"I need something strong, " she rasped, barely able to hear herself over the music.

The bartender, a tough guy with a keen look, pushed a wine glass at her. Immediately, she held it up to her mouth and swallowed it in one bite. The burn seared her throat, but the pain was welcome. It was safer than the void eating away at the inside of her.

She ordered another. And another.

Her vision blurred, and the world around her tilted slightly. However, as soon as a rough hand seized her arm, pulled her from the barstool, a clear bucket of ice water hit her like a full glass on the back.

"Come on, girl. You're up," a gruff voice ordered.

"What?" Cat frowned, struggling to stay upright.

"No games," the man snapped. "You were paid for. Now, go get cleaned up."

"I don't understand what you are talking about, I am just here for a drink. Nothing else," I replied, while I struggled to pull away, yet it proved impossible.

"You assume you are just going to get my money and do not need to earn it. You wanted to run, right?" He asked me.

"I don't know what you are talking about. Can you let go of me for a moment?" I said as I tried to balance myself from tipping over or vomiting all over the place.

He signals a sign.

A woman appeared beside him, gripping my wrist like a vice. "Move."

"I don't- I'm not- The words tumbled from her lips in confusion, but the woman wasn't listening.

Cat braced herself to the floor, but she was not strong enough, too far gone in addiction and sorrow. She was pulled through a back corridor and tossed into a dark bathroom.

"Take a bath," the woman instructed coldly. "Your client doesn't like filth."

"I'm not a-"

She frowned at me. "Why do you always like to run with his money?"

" What?" I said to myself, thinking it was just the alcohol I drank. "I don't owe anybody anything, ma. You took the wrong person."

"You are tonight," the woman interrupted. Her gaze hardened. "You either do the job or return the money. Your choice."

"I am not a prostitute," I shouted, straining my voice. Finally, I got her attention. She looked at me with a cold stare.

"Erica, are you trying to run away from your responsibilities?" my woman responded, folding her hands around her breast.

"I am not Erica, I just got divorced, and I came here to drink my sorrow away, not sleeping with anybody."

" Ohh my dear," the woman moved closer to me, she took my hand and started to rub it gently. "I'm sorry about your marriage, but you can't wallow in alcohol and cry yourself to sleep. Do something that will make you forget him."

" How–" I can barely say the words.

"Just one night, we can't afford to lose this client. Do it for yourself, too. Maybe destiny wanted you to be here tonight and let it work its magic again."

Panic squeezed Cat's chest. She hadn't agreed to this. But the woman's words echoed in her mind. Destiny already had this in store for you.

Perhaps this was fate's way of telling her to just let go. She was no longer Alex's wife. No longer the woman who had built her whole life around a man who betrayed her.

A new life. A new beginning.

Her hands vibrated as she disrobed and moved into the cold shower. It tumbled over her, water washing the blood from her knee, numbing the remaining throb of her indecision.

As she popped out from beneath the counter, the woman handed her a pair of stringy G-strings and nothing else.

Cat's stomach churned. "I-"

"You'll get used to it," the woman cut in. "Now go."

Her bare feet padded down the cold hallway. She got to a door, and her heart beat so hard it drowned out the background music.

She knocked.

A deep, cold voice answered. "Enter."

The room was dark, except for the glow of a fireplace in the corner. Shadows flickered against the walls, casting eerie shapes. She hesitated, fingers gripping the doorframe.

"Come forward," the voice commanded again.

Her breath hitched. "I-I can't see," she stammered. "I don't want to fall."

A soft click. One lamp flickered on, illuminating the room in shimmering gold light.

And there he was.

Seated on an expensive leather chair, one leg crossed over the other, was a man who exuded power. Tall. Broad shoulders. Appearance, A sculpted jaw, as if it had been made from stone. His piercing gaze locked onto her, dark and unreadable.

Her pulse skittered.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Crawl."

Her spine stiffened. "Excuse me?"

His expression didn't change. "Crawl to me."

Heat flared in her cheeks, mixing with shame and something dangerously close to intrigue. She clenched her fists. Was he testing her?

But then she remembered the woman's threat. "If you screw this up, the boss will come for ya."

Swallowing hard, she bent down at the knees, hands and knees, and into a fetal position, humiliation coursing through her veins. Slowly, she crawled toward him, feeling his gaze trace every inch of her body.

When she got to his feet, he lifted her chin with a single finger. His contact was unexpectedly soft, but his countenance was still stoic.

"Beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself.

Cat's breath caught. The room felt smaller, the air thicker. His fragrance-a blend of musk and designer perfume-enfolded her, disoriented her senses.

"What's your name? he asked, his voice low and smooth.

" Catherine," She hesitated, her senses overriding her to ask first the questions of her being. However, before she could, he made contact with her lips by pressing a finger against her lips.

"No questions." His tone was final. "Obey, and you won't be punished."

A shiver ran down her spine.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "Unfasten my belt."

Her fingers fumbled as she obeyed, slipping the leather from its loops. His hands found her waist, lifting her with effortless strength. Before she could even react, she was sitting on top of him, her knees sinking into the soft padding of his chair.

His face was inches from hers now. The flickering light caught the sharp angles of his features, making him look almost unreal.

He held her cheek and caressed the under lip with his thumb. "You're trembling," he observed.

She was. But not just from fear.

A dangerous hunger swirled in his eyes, one that mirrored the unfamiliar heat building in her core.

"It's just one night," she reminded herself silently. "Nothing could go wrong."

He leaned in. She let him.

The first touch of his lips was slow, testing. Then, as if something snapped, he deepened the kiss, claiming her mouth with a need that sent fire rushing through her veins.

Her hands tangled in his hair, gripping tight. He moaned against her mouth, his fingers ran down her back, making her shake.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, "Tell me, do you want me?

Her breath hitched.

His fingers ghosted over her breast, teasing. Her body arched instinctively.

A hoarse "yes" escaped her lips.

That was all he needed.

He held her breast softly, folding it gently; they made Catherine moan in pleasure. She arches herself towards him. He pulled down the small garment covering her breast and brought his mouth toward it. His hot, wet mouth drew an intense scream from her as she used her hand to push his head further, surrendering herself totally to him.

The following second faded to heat, affect, and desire so intense, Cat lost all thought of the past. Of Alex. Of betrayal.

Because tonight, she wasn't Catherine Landon, the abandoned wife.

She was someone else. Someone who didn't care.

And for once, she welcomed it.