Sunset Flare Read online

  Gunner found himself thankful for the break. His full head spun in overdrive. Taking a shower without priorities to follow felt almost relaxing, as relaxing as he knew anyway.

  Anton hit the sack by eight, leaving Gunner alone with his thoughts. The television held no interest. He grabbed a book, but couldn’t read a single word. Sitting on the sofa in the living room, it annoyed him that Izzy kept popping into his head. Eating, showering, and trying to relax hadn’t eliminated his anger at her dismissal of his efforts. What was so important she couldn’t find time to go through a few files?

  Before he could stop himself, he’d left his suite and pounded his fist on Izzy’s door. He would get answers. What he hadn’t prepared himself for was Izzy answering the door wearing only her undergarments. The slinky black material of the one-piece, if you could call the no sides, criss-crossed middle and halter top boosting her breasts into perfect molded mounds a “one-piece” lay smoothly against her creamy skin.

  “Hey.” Her delightful tone and big smile scraped his raw anger. “What are you doing here?”

  “Do you always answer the door naked?” His stone-cold tone didn’t sour her upbeat mood. She glanced down at her fine body and the softness of her laughter wrapped around him.

  “I’m not naked. Come on in.” Turning, she grabbed a long white coat off a hook. “I’m just on my way out.” She slipped the coat over her undergarments.

  “Without clothes?”

  She flashed her coat open, sweeping her hand down her body. “I’m wearing clothes.”

  “You’re wearing panties.”

  She laughed. “These aren’t my panties. If you’d followed through the other night, you’d know my panties don’t cover this much.”

  He leaned in. “We spent the night in the cabin together, remember? I know exactly what your panties look like.”

  He noticed he hadn’t made her uncomfortable, as he’d intended.

  “And still, the second round of sex has yet to begin, unless that’s why you’re here. Is that why you’re here?”

  “No.”

  She pouted. “That’s a shame. In that case, I’m going to be late.”

  He stepped in front of her, blocking the doorway. “You haven’t been to the library.”

  She pulled the belt on her white trench coat tighter, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Clearly.”

  “And now, I’m officially late.” She brushed past him, out into the pool room, and headed toward the exit.

  He followed. “For what? A dinner date? Wearing that?”

  “You’re very judgemental,” she said. “Or are you jealous? You almost sound jealous.”

  They stopped at the elevator at the end of the corridor and Izzy hit the “up” button.

  “Are you going on a booty call?”

  “Wow. Thank you for demeaning my active sex-drive. Just because you won’t man up to yours, don’t critique mine.” She poked his chest as the elevator chimed open and she stepped inside. Gunner moved in right behind her. “Really?” she asked. “I think we’ve had our limit of conversation for the night.”

  She was wrong. They hadn’t even begun.

  “I invested my time in helping you, as you requested.”

  “Thank you.” Her sarcasm was as blunt as her outfit.

  “Don’t thank me. Show up.”

  She shrugged again. “I can’t promise anything.”

  “I’m not asking.”

  “We’ve tried this you-boss-me thing before and it didn’t work. What makes you think it will work now?”

  “Izzy.”

  “Gunner,” she mocked. “Listen...” Stepping toward him, she ran her fingers up his shirt, giving special attention to the collar, before wrapping her arms around his neck. “...Kiss me.” Her teeth nipped his chin. “Touch me...” Her tongue trailed along his jaw line.

  She pushed him to his limit. He grasped her wrists and pressed her back against the mirrored wall. With one hand, he pinned her hands above her. “Is this what you want?” he growled a breath away from her lips.

  Her husky “Yes” was all he needed. His mouth crashed down on hers covering her lips fully, claiming her as his, wanting and needing her.

  He tore the knot of her belt lose, opened her jacket, and slid his hands over her curving hips. Incredible. He cupped her tight ass, lifting her feet from the ground and giving her legs reason to wrap around his middle. Their hips pressed harder against one another, perfectly fitting together.

  At some point, he’d let go of her hands and felt them dig through his hair, cup his neck, and move down his throat. When her little warm fingers moved under his shirt, his hands gripped the sides of her face, consuming her more, before trailing down her throat and over her breasts. She moaned in his mouth. “Press the button,” she said between kisses.

  Button? What was she talking about?

  “Stop the elevator.”

  Too late.

  It chimed open and Gunner stepped back, letting her slide to her feet. He pulled her jacket closed before turning around, thankful to find an empty hallway.

  Izzy cleared her throat. “That was unexpected. I didn’t think you had it in you, but I like it. I like it a lot.”

  Gunner hit the “close doors” button and said, “Let’s go back to your suite and I’ll show you exactly what I have in me.”

  Izzy hit the open button and the doors slid apart. “That sounds wonderful. Give me an hour and I’ll meet you at my suite.” She lightly pecked a kiss on his cheek before exiting the elevator.

  Gunner caught the doors as they were shutting and stuck out his head. “Excuse me?” he called as she scurried down the hall.

  She turned to face him, walking backwards. “I have a prior engagement.”

  “You have a what?” He stepped out of the elevator and followed her down the hall.

  “I would invite you, but I don’t think it’s your style. See you in an hour.” She blew him a final kiss before disappearing behind a door. Dressed like a woman of the night.

  What the hell was going on?

  Gunner caught the door and followed her inside. Blue lights lit the white walls, wrought iron bistro tables and bar chairs were scattered around a white dance floor. A bar ran along one side and a stage sat against the back wall. Everything about this club seemed ordinary, except the staggered floor to mirrored ceiling stripper poles on the dance floor.

  Izzy approached a group of women wearing nothing even remotely as revealing as Izzy, but still sexy. Sexy enough to dance in. Sexy enough to strip in.

  “Hey!” Izzy called out, waving at the ladies while tossing her jacket over a chair.

  “Do we have an audience today?” One of the women nodded in Gunner’s direction.

  Izzy turned. At the sight of him, her face did that little angry overly-dramatic look. Enormous, flaring eyes, a scrunched up nose, and a no-nonsense stare met him. Storming toward him, she pointed from him to the door. “You. Out. Now.”

  Gunner didn’t move. He couldn’t believe what stood before him.

  “What is this? Some underground strip club you’re hosting for guests from the penthouse?” he hissed the whisper at her to avoid sharing with the poor women waiting to learn the next number.

  Izzy planted her hands on her hips, hips his hands had skimmed over only minutes earlier. “What?”

  “I clearly see you didn’t fall that far from the apple tree that is Robert. Do you pay these women well for the services they’re providing your clients?”

  Laughter bubbled out of Izzy. “My clients? I feel like you’re not hearing the words coming out of your mouth.”

  “Gambling is one thing. But this! A strip joint in the resort. And it’s not only a strip joint is it? You have some illegal women performing illegal activities, don’t you? You’re pimping them off.”

  She gripped his forearm. “Gunner, slow down. You’ve been wound tight since you knocked on my suite door. If you would stop and listen, I could
explain. I thought our little make-out session in the elevator would unwind you a bit. Apparently, I was wrong.”

  “No wonder you don’t want to look into your past. Your future is on the path of a whole new level of corruptness.”

  She dropped her head and sighed.

  “Does your family know what you’re doing down here?”

  She held back a smirk, but he didn’t find this amusing whatsoever. “Again, I don’t think you’re following,” she said.

  “Do they?”

  “Emma comes with me whenever she’s here. She loves participating and is amazing on a pole. Anya’s tried it a few times, but it’s not her thing and Violet...” She laughed. “...she wouldn’t be caught dead here. But I think it would be good for her. She could relax, unwind, learn a few sexy moves for behind closed doors—” She nudged his side. “If you know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You don’t know what it is.”

  “Sir? Sir!” Gunner glanced at an eccentric lady weaving her way through the tables toward the dance floor. Her wild hair bounced on top of her head while a large kimono style wrap billowed behind her quick-paced walk. “This is a woman’s only class,” she said, straightening the messy red bun atop her head. “Please lock the door on your way out.”

  Gunner’s eyes landed on Izzy and he mouthed “A class?”

  She nodded.

  “What the hell kind of class has stripper poles?”

  “A pole exercise class. An hour long exercise class where we teach guests in the resort the exotic world of dance.”

  Oh shit.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  IZZY HELD BACK a smirk.

  “I’m going to be letting myself out,” Gunner said, taking a step back.

  “I think that would be wise,” Izzy agreed before a shout came from behind her.

  “I think he should stay.” Izzy glanced over her shoulder at this fresh new group of women excited to try their hands at something fun and sexy. Of course, they were likely all beginners and the first class never played out smoothly, let alone sexy. But Elsa, the exercise instructor, did an amazing job of making the women feel delicate, graceful and alluring, even when they were falling and sliding off the pole.

  “Yes!” the rest of the women echoed.

  “If he participated then maybe he wouldn’t be so unsure about letting his girlfriend teach us.”

  “See? Not everyone knows who I am.”

  “You teach them?” Gunner said.

  Izzy faced him, shrugging passively. “I assist Elsa.”

  “And Elsa’s class is late,” the redhead said. “Pigtails, go lock that door.” A black-haired woman jogged past Gunner and Izzy.

  “I’ll do it,” Gunner said. Izzy could see the panic in his face at the possibility of being stuck pole dancing with them. Entertaining, by far.

  However, he waited too long and Elsa came up beside them, looping her arm in his. “If the women are alright with a male joining us, grab yourself a pole.” She positioned him at the central station. Izzy trailed behind, a wider than life smile across her lips. Her smile widened even more when Elsa guided Gunner’s arm to the pole, placing his hand on the metal. He jerked away like it burned his skin.

  Elsa chuckled. “You will have your hands full with this one, Izzy.”

  “It’s good to have a guy around,” another lady said. “To make sure we’re being paid well.”

  The room broke out into laughter, quickly extinguished when Elsa started her music playlist.

  Red color rushed up his throat and burned his cheeks. Still not touching the bar, he gripped Izzy’s hand and pleaded, “Get me out of here and I will do anything.”

  “Feel the bar, familiarize yourself with the bar...” Elsa was saying, in her usual encouraging, husky and eccentric tone. Izzy found it extra entertaining today because Gunner’s eyes were almost popping out of his head. “Let’s get acquainted with the feel. Reach as high as you can and hold it firmly while walking in circles.” Everyone except Gunner obeyed.

  “Izzy, familiarize that boy with his bar,” Elsa called over before continuing words of encouragement.

  Izzy bit back a grin and reached for Gunner.

  He pulled away.

  “It’s not hard.” Izzy stepped toward him. “It doesn’t hurt.” She touched his arm. “Yet.” She winked at him then slowly guided his hand to the bar. Once his fingers circled the metal, she did the same, turning her backside against his front. “Circle with me.” She intentionally added a flare to her hips, a wiggle to her rear and, when she’d finished her circle and found Gunner had not moved, she laughed. “Gunner,” she scolded.

  He swooped around pressing against her backside. His arm circled her bare skin, and his hand squeezed her hip. His breath was hot and husky in her ear. “If you do this with lust, every single woman in this room will see what effect you have on me.” He pressed his man-hood against the small of her back. “Feel me?”

  Whether he meant it rhetorical or not, she understood exactly.

  Izzy nodded and stepped away. Finding the darkened lust swirling in the deep depths of his eyes, she wished they’d stayed at her suite. Suddenly, she didn’t want a crowd.

  “This is going to work better if you drop your drawers,” she said. “If you’re going to twirl on the bar, your bare legs will hold better.”

  “I’m not twirling on that bar.”

  “Roll your pants up, hunk master!” Elsa called to them as if hearing their conversation. She could have, but Izzy had been coming to pole class since it opened so she knew the layout of the class. And if Elsa had any say in the matter, which she would, Gunner wouldn’t leave this room until he spun on the pole.

  “I FEEL VIOLATED.” GUNNER nodded curtly as another woman passed by, expressing a job well done.

  Well done.

  What a joke. Apparently, he hadn’t familiarized himself enough with the bar to avoid the complete and utter embarrassment he’d endured. He’d slipped, fallen, and even hit his head off the metal...he still couldn’t figure out how that had occurred.

  “Pole dancing isn’t just dingy bars with drunken men.” Izzy paused from talking to him to hug a passing guest, giving the woman whispers of encouragement. They would need it. After what he’d witnessed, this art of dancing could kill self esteem.

  Izzy smiled back at him. “Pole dancing is an art that needs practise, training, and body control. Not to mention, it’s awesome exercise. You’ll be in the best shape of your life when you pole dance.”

  Izzy’s killer body emphasized her words.

  “But it’s also not always sexy. As you saw, it’s hard and you get a few bruises.”

  A few more women passed by asking if Izzy would be at the next class. She promised she’d be there.

  “How about you?” one woman asked Gunner.

  “I think I’ve come to terms with this not being up my alley.”

  “Do you think we’re getting well paid?” the teasing brunette asked.

  “No. I don’t think any woman would get paid enough to do this,” he replied.

  The women laughed. “And to think, we pay to take these classes.”

  They all strolled out.

  “Izzy?” Elsa called from the door.

  “We’re going to hang for a minute. Can you lock that on your way out?”

  “Sure thing. Nice meeting you, Gunner. Keep working on your leg grip.”

  Violated.

  “Let me see your leg,” Izzy said.

  “It’s fine.”

  He watched her walk behind the bar and heard her dig around. “Tell me about your siblings.”

  She quirked a look at him. “Why?”

  He sat on a stool on the opposite side of the bar as she lined up ingredients to mix a drink in front of him. “Marc says you don’t work but you show up here for each class and assist Elsa. Isn’t that work? It makes me curious what your siblings do that’s considered work.”

  I
zzy dished ice into a shaker. “Marc and Carl manage the resorts. Marc travels more now with Carl. They have this father/son bond I’d never expected.” He watched a flash of...jealousy pierce her smile. She wiped it away quickly, picked up a bottle and tossed it in the air, then swiftly caught it.

  “Nice,” Gunner said.

  “There’s so much you can learn being raised in a resort.” She winked at him. “Marc doesn’t leave for long, though, and he takes Kate and Rosemary whenever he can. They oversee all the major decisions together.” She sloppily measured vodka into the shaker. “Blue Monday?” she asked, head still down, but eyes looking through her thick lashes at him.

  “Sure.”

  “Double recipe,” she murmured to herself, lost in the world of mixing her drink. “My divorced sister, Violet, is the wedding coordinator.” She grinned at him. “I love her, but she’s on the tad side of stuck up. Emma is the exercise coordinator, which is why she loves pole exercise. And Anya is a chef in our most prestigious five-star on-site restaurant.” She shook the blue liquid, grabbing a couple of crystal glasses from the lined shelf, then setting the stemware between them.

  “And you teach strip classes.”

  Izzy laughed. “Pole dancing is not stripping. There’s a defined difference, although I guess you could do them at the same time.” She sent him a seductive grin. “And if the women needed to know how to strip, I’m sure I could give them a few pointers. I have seen Striptease.”

  “You’re a tease.”

  “I’ve been told.”

  Izzy moved around the counter and sat on the stool next to him. Crossing her legs, she stirred her drink with a mini umbrella and shivered.

  “Here.” Gunner grabbed his shirt from the counter and draped it over her shoulders, his hand grazing her satin skin.

  She smiled shyly at him, gripping the edge. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Men don’t usually cover me up, but every time I’m with you, you manage to be quite the gentleman.”

  He ran his finger along her jaw line. “I would rather hold your naked body against mine to warm you. How gentlemanly of me is that?”