Cole sipped his drink innocently, then tried not to pull a face. It tasted like it had more alcohol than anything else. His expression did not go unnoticed by the man, who lifted his brows in a challenge. Cole schooled his features into indifference and sucked down about half of the glass before his eye twitched. The man smiled at that, genuine, with his teeth on display and eyes crinkling. He was so handsome that Cole felt a pang stroke through his chest, his breath catching in his throat, his heart skipping a beat, his lips parting around the straw. He blamed it on the satisfaction of finally getting a reaction out of the guy and on the alcohol, settling warm and comfortable in his limbs.

Whatever expression he was making now only made the man smile wider.

"Looks like you're enjoying that." He kneaded Cole's ass a little. "Maybe I do want a little taste."

Cole wordlessly held the drink out toward him. The smile turned a little lecherous, and that predatory look returned. It sent a shiver ripping down Cole's spine that also did not go unnoticed. The man shifted forward, his hands sliding underneath Cole's thighs as he continued to pet and knead his skin. Cole barely felt it because now their faces were so close that he could see little flecks of gold in the man's blue eyes.

"Oh," he breathed. He understood. Kissing was a huge no-no for him. He did just about anything for anyone that Logan sent his way, but kissing was always off the table if he could help it. Thankfully, most people respected that. A lot of the guys who came in did it with tan lines from rings on their fingers and were not exactly rearing to exchange spit with him anyway. But instead of pushing this guy back and waggling a finger in front of his nose, Cole relaxed into his hold.

Because he liked having those intense eyes on him, and he wanted to know what that stubble would feel like against his cheek. He liked the big, strong arms wrapped around him. This guy's hands were seeking and possessive, kneading him like bread dough, but they did not push into his shorts, pinch his nipples, or otherwise prod. Wild excitement and possessive desire did not fill his eyes. They were serious and assessing, knocking Cole so totally off balance that when the guy leaned in, he let him.

He parted his lips and gasped around the tongue when it licked over his own and flicked the back of his teeth. Eyes wide open, still locked on the flecks of gold amongst blue as the man stared back. Those arms shifted until one hand splayed across the small of his back, the other on his thigh, and together, they hauled Cole closer until their crotches were flush. And, holy lord, Cole was actually hard in his shorts.

Getting hard at work – or anywhere else, if he was honest – was like snow in July. It happened sometimes with certain clients because Logan said, 'whatever they want,' and sometimes his arousal was what they wanted, but otherwise, it was a rarity. And certainly not during a lap dance. At first, the humiliation and fear were too strong, and later, it became just a job: routine and certainly not sexy. But this was not really a lap dance, and all this man had to do was give him a look to have Cole rising to the occasion.

He let Cole feel that they were both hard, then abruptly sat back and put his hands around the back of the couch again. He tilted his head to the side and assessed Cole, who must have looked more than a little flustered. He could feel the heat on his cheeks – another rarity at the club.

"How about that dance now?"

Cole slurped up the rest of the drink because he decided he was going to need it. He sat up and reached the long line of his body across the couch to put the empty glass on the table, then placed his hands on the back of the couch and rolled his hips. He always thought that thrusting in a customer's face was a little crude, so he usually opted to be a bit more subtle, brushing his crotch across their chest while giving them a close-up view of the flat plane of his belly.

The routine was a familiar one that he only ever pulled out in the private rooms servicing someone to whom the rules did not apply. He could work with both feet off the ground, climbing over the man's lap so that he was facing away with his legs folded on either side of the man's thighs. He ground down while leaning over to get his hands on the floor, and then arched his back. It was a nice view that checked the primal urge in men to position whoever they were fucking face down and ass up. Sure enough, the man's hands splayed across his ass cheeks, one thumb pressed into the fabric that stretched over Cole's hole.

Cole took a deep breath around the knot of discomfort that always twisted tightly in his chest when things started to get to this stage. Breaking the rules was fun and games until he actually had to start taking stuff up his ass. He reminded himself that he was hard from this. That he found this guy attractive. That nothing had been done to hurt him so far. It could be worse.

He looked at the man's black sneakers. His jeans were pulled up because he was sitting down, showing off a pair of black socks. Cole took another deep breath, then blew it out across the carpet. In just a second, he would lock up the muscles in his torso to arch back and lay across the man's chest. Prolong the foreplay a little more.

However, before he had the chance to do it himself, the man slid his hands around Cole's chest and pulled him up. The help did not go unappreciated. Cole swiveled his hips and rested his head against the man's broad shoulder, sighing into his ear when those big hands smoothed down his belly.

One palmed over his shorts, cupping the weight of Cole's cock as it strained against the black lace. Cole tried to grind up into the touch, mostly out of pure base instinct to chase the pleasure of enjoying the touch, but the other hand kept his hips still. Then he massaged over Cole's cock and balls just like he had his ass, pressing and kneading.

There was no expression on his face, not even a flush across his cheeks, as he looked down the line of Cole's body and watched his belly and hips twitch with each touch. The blankness was off-putting, as it had been when Cole first walked in. This cut through the haze of arousal and alcohol – he had not been lying when he said he was a lightweight. He frowned. The whole unbothered thing was actually kind of doing it for him, but it was his job to turn people on, not the other way around, so it felt distinctly uncomfortable to have the tables turned.

The man must have noticed a change in Cole because he turned his face to look him dead in the eyes. "Let's go somewhere a little more private."

Cole was focused on the fact that their mouths were so close together that he could reach out his tongue and lick the man's cupid's bow. He was so dazed, in fact, that his fractured brain decided to take over and let out the first thing that floated to the surface. "You aren't even going to buy me dinner first?"

The man chuckled, breaking the spell. He pushed Cole up off his lap, then stood and held his hand out. "Come on."

He was not much taller than Cole – which meant he would be decently taller if Cole were not wearing heels – but he was broader and seemed all the bigger because of it. Plus, he had his clothes on. He was currently adjusting the seam of his jeans over his groin, one hand still extended expectantly. At least he got turned on a little, even if he did not show on his face.

"I need to grab my coat," Cole said.

"Sure, and we need to get your security." The hand hung in the air.

Cole slid their palms together and let himself be led out of the room. Elijah was already waiting right outside. He eyed the guy's fingers folded around Cole's palm. HIs crossed arms dropped out of their usual intimidating posture like he was going to do something about it, but the guy let go of Cole before the curtain even had a chance to fall back into place.

"We're taking it outside?" Elijah asked, looking directly at Cole. He ignored the customer's affirmation, waiting until Cole nodded. They were old partners at this since Elijah was usually the one to escort him when a client wanted to go outside of the club.

"Go bring your car around. We'll meet you out front," Elijah said to the customer. He hovered an arm around Cole to guide him without actually touching him and, in a much kinder voice, coaxed, "Come on, sweetheart."

Elijah was a very large man. He was both taller and broader than most people who came into the place and had been doing the job long enough that literally nothing surprised him. He was one of the guys here the night some nutjob came after her husband with a gun. She got him twice in the torso before security took her down. That was before Cole's time, but everyone still talked about it. And Elijah had been one of the bouncers to take her down.

He was also dating Alexis and was the reason why none of the guys messed with her.

Cole trusted nobody else more to take him outside. Especially when he carted Cole away without a polite word or backward glance toward the customer. Logan may say the client got whatever they asked for, but Elijah was the one who made sure Cole stayed safe, and he was not afraid to offend somebody by telling them off.

"What's the vibe from this guy." Elijah leaned down to ask as they slipped into the hallway that led to the changing room. Cole smiled before he could help himself because it was endlessly amusing that Elijah was this huge, scary bouncer who talked about things like vibes.

"He seems alright," Cole assures him. "Definitely knows we have to do whatever he says, but he's not being an asshole about it."

Elijah evaluated him as he hopped into a pair of sweats, looking for any hint that Cole was lying because while Elijah was careful about safety, Cole had been known to ignore his gut feelings and end up in nasty situations that ended in lots of screaming, demolished hotel rooms, and a very frustrated Elijah.

"Going out tonight?" One of the other boys swung into the room, plucking a silk robe from where it hung beside the lockers, and slipped his arms into it. Cole ignored him in favor of reaching for his tank top and rolling it up so he could stick his arms through. The dancer just shrugged and leaned toward the mirror to poke at a smudge in his eyeliner. He was another one that Cole did not know the name of because he had only been here about a week. He had also been fucking Logan, which meant he was either going to get stuck here, or he would not last the month. Cole bet on the latter.

"Ready?" Cole asked Elijah as he slid on his jacket. Elijah pressed his lips together, unhappy but ready nonetheless. He was already wearing his coat, thick to ward off the winter cold and also hide the handgun he kept tucked against his side whenever he escorted a dancer on a trick.

Cole grabbed a little gold locket from the pocket of his bag and clipped it around his neck. "Let's go."