Guardian Awakening (The Guardians Series)

Guardian
Awakening

Michaela Rhua

Breathless Press

Calgary, Alberta

www.breathlesspress.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or

persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Guardian Awakening

Copyright © 2013 Michaela Rhua

ISBN: 978-1-77101-928-6

Cover Artist: Mina Carter

Editor: Haleigh Rucinski

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.

Breathless Press

www.breathlesspress.com

This is dedicated to the ladies of UCW, who have pulled me together and pushed me on daily to be a better version of me!

My thanks also go to Haleigh Rucinski, my lovely editor, for being incredibly supportive!

Prologue

This wasn’t working. He was making all the right moves, but her mind wasn’t in it. Her body craved the release of built-up frustration that the promised orgasm would bring, but her brain would not go there. He moved faster, making groaning noises accompanied by the occasional, “Yeah, baby, so sweet.” Sweet! That was the last straw. If he had managed to keep his mouth shut, she might have gotten to climax; instead, he had to open his mouth and make a stupid comment.

“Stop! Stop!” Romy said as she pushed him off her. She was thankful when he slipped out of her and rolled away. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up quickly.

“Everything okay, baby?” He spoke to her back. “We can do doggy style, and I can rub your clit. The other girls like that, gets you off quicker.” Confidence oozed from him. But she felt sick to her stomach.

She grabbed her discarded garments strewn on the floor and began dressing herself. Turning around, she saw him lying back on the messed-up bed, one hand behind his head, the other holding a cigarette that he had picked up from the ashtray on the nightstand. Jerk, he hadn’t even put it out before having sex with her.

She smoothed her black hair back and looked at him. He lay stretched out with a semierect cock, fit body, and smooth-shaven head. He was not her usual type, but he had seemed promising. But now he was one of the few she had tried but failed with.
I must have some sort of defective gene in here somewhere.

“Thanks,” she said offhand and walked out of the cheap hotel room.

“Frigid bitch!” he shouted at her as the door closed.

The corridor was dimly lit. The lamp on the wall flickered on and off, casting erratic shadows on the walls. Maybe he was right, and she was frigid. Or maybe it was one of her own kind she needed, instead of a full human. But she had fought to be far away from her tribe. Now she lived by her own rules, not confined to what had been expected of her. But still something was missing. She had never been able to connect with a full human. Maybe she never would. That idea horrified her. Lost in her thoughts, she rounded the corner and stepped into a wall. Well, not a brick wall, but a tall, hard frame that didn’t move as she bounced off him.

That brief contact sent sparks throughout her body. Excitement filled her in a way that her brief encounter with “Mr. Stud” in the room had not.
What is happening?

“Sorry,” she said, staring up into intense blue eyes that held her captive. For a moment she thought she saw his eyes flicker and change in color.
That was impossible, right?
She gulped hard. Deep inside her she knew many things are possible if you fully understand the world around you.

Then, as if released, Romy stepped back and took a deep shaky breath. She flicked a hand to her hair again and pulled her coat tighter, walking around him quickly and out into the night.

The wind whipped around her, but she didn’t mind the cold or the dark night. The dark was her home, as it had been for her tribe for many years. Even though she had fought hard to forget her past, somehow it was always there, welcoming her back. After hailing a taxi that drove by, she got in and gave her address and sat back. Romy closed her eyes to shut out memories of the evil life she had left. She was looking forward to getting back to her apartment and forgetting about another disastrous night of unfulfilled sex.

***

He stood in the shadows, watching her get into the taxi. His body was tense from the brief contact he had had with her, and his cock ached with need. He had not expected his body to react like that to his sworn enemy. The demon inside him bayed for her blood. As soon as the taxi sped off into the night, he knew he had lost the opportunity. She was on her way home, safely away from him.

Chapter One

The buzzing of the alarm clock woke Romy up with a start. Turning over, she opened her eyes and blinked them several times before they adjusted enough to read the time—8:30 p.m. She wasn’t due at work until 10:00 p.m. but would be there until 3:00 a.m. She was taking a few days off after tonight, just to recharge her batteries. Her usual waking routine kicked in; tossing the duvet aside, she swung her legs over the edge and padded to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later Romy was dressed and in her kitchen, munching on toast while listening to the evening news on the radio. Looking at her watch, she realized time was running away, so she drank the remains of her coffee and made her way to the door, grabbing her keys on the way out. She could easily take a taxi to the club, but she preferred to walk. It helped focus her mind on what she had to do. On the way home, her walk helped her to forget what she had done.

Frank was on the door as usual and let her in with a curt nod. He wasn’t one for conversation while on duty but did his job well. There were occasions when he did his job with too much gusto, like when he threw over-excited customers out of the club.

The interior of the club was dark red, with spotlights illuminating the walkway into the main bar. Instead of heading into the bar area, she cut right and walked through a set of doors straight into the staff area, where two of the girls were getting changed to go for a well-earned break.

Jo was just putting her coat on when she noticed Romy walk in.

“Hey, Romy, stag party just rolled in, be careful out there,” she hollered over. Jo was blonde and blue eyed. She was the eldest of the girls and had a steel backbone when it came to unruly customers.

“Yeah, they already seemed loaded,” DeeDee informed her. She had been at the club a little longer than Romy and had immediately struck up a close friendship with Jo. The two now seemed inseparable. DeeDee put on her coat and headed out with Jo.

“Thanks, girls, enjoy your break.” Romy waved at them as they left the room. She went to her locker area and began to get her performance clothes ready. Tonight she needed the black leather basque with the red lace covering her breasts. The matching panties and her thigh-length boots with four-inch steel heels would complete the on-stage image. In this outfit she felt in control and could handle anything when she got up on stage. Cherie arrived, late and obviously flustered, while Romy, who had plaited her hair high up on her head, was applying her makeup.

“Hey, come on, hurry up, boss man’s going to have your neck,” Romy urged as she finished by putting on her leather gloves.

“Yeah, I know, but had a problem with the system...” Cherie continued to talk about the intricacies of running the call center computers and how she fixed the problem that no one else could. Most of the girls worked two jobs to make ends meet. No one had chosen to do what they did at the club as a career, but they had all ended up there somehow.

“Okay, Cher, I’m on...” Romy headed toward the door. “Jo and DeeDee said we have a lively bunch out there.” She walked through the dimly lit corridor that led to the stage; even from there she could hear cheers and hoots.

Romy closed her eyes; in her mind she fast-forwarded to the time she would be coming off the stage. Her introduction music began to play, and she breathed out slowly, opened her eyes, and her alter ego was there, dangerous and wild. She stepped out onto the stage and threw herself into her routine.

As her gyrating hips tantalized the crowd, she slipped the tips of her fingers into her panties, eyes closed in make-believe ecstasy. Romy became aware of an energy scrutinizing her from the dark recesses of the club. The power felt familiar, dark and brooding. She felt a gaze piercing her. The combination of sizzling energy and knowing she was the center of attention ignited the fire deep within her. Something that had not happened before. The heat built up in her body; every sense awoke and came alive. She wanted to be touched by him, the one she knew was watching her intensely.

Cheers, howls, and wolf whistles sounded in her ears as she took a bow. The lights dimmed, and she walked off to where a waiting Cherie stood idly, chewing gum. She wore her little school girl outfit that would certainly raise the customers’ temperatures even more.

“A few hecklers on the right of the stage, Cher, think it’s that stag party,” Romy said.

“You on the floor now?” Cherie asked and blew a bubble, then popped it loudly before taking her gum out of her mouth and sticking it to a handy chair.

“Yep,” said Romy and slapped Cherie’s bum to say good luck. Both girls laughed. The music began, and Cherie stepped out.

Romy ran to the changing room to towel off and grab a bottle of water. Louis, the club’s owner, rapped on the door and walked in.

“Come on, Romy, shake a leg.” Louis’s big voice boomed out of his five-foot-five-inch frame. He often said he may be on the small side but it was in height only.

“Coming, boss man.” Romy pretended to doff her cap at him and walked out with him to the main floor of the club. At the doorway Louis stopped.

“Rough lot out there tonight, Romy, keep it straight. Give me or Kurt the nod if you need us,” he said.

“Thanks, Louis.” Romy bent down and kissed the top of his head affectionately.

Romy walked straight to the stag guys. Seeing her stride toward them, a few started to whistle and clap. She was used to this, and putting on her plastic smile, she entered into the usual banter between dancer and customer. She had been doing this job for a year. It had not been easy at first, but now she felt like an old hand. She knew how to get the guys to buy more drinks or pay for extras like a public lap dance or one in the private rooms. The girls here were not expected to do more than that. In fact Louis had thrown out a girl who had taken cash off customers for extras that were not on the official list. Romy had kept things above board, never going further than a private lap dance in the back rooms. Club Nero was a safe place to work. Some of the other girls often told horror stories of how they were treated at other places. Louis De Nero’s club may have been small, but it was growing in number of customers and employees.

Kurt came up behind her. His bulky frame overshadowed her, but his immense size hid his soft, protective nature.

“Customer booked you for a private dance in the back. Go make him happy.” Kurt booked all the lap dances and kept an eye on things on the monitors.

“Okay, does he know the rules?” she inquired, not wishing to antagonize a customer who wanted more than was offered.

“Yep, loud and clear. I’m watching.” Walking away he did the eye-to-eye sign, which he loved to do to show the girls he was monitoring the room to keep them safe; in reality, all the girls knew he also got off on watching them perform in the private rooms. It was the perk of the job, watching the monitors and getting to see something he could not afford to pay for.

Romy walked to the door of the private room and took a deep breath. She wasn’t too comfortable with this part. Outside on the floor, all the girls were together, but in there she would be alone. Kurt and Louis would be watching out for her, but it was one-to-one, private, and intimate. Exactly what the customer liked, but all the same it made Romy nervous each time.

Entering the room, Romy saw him sitting on the brown leather sofa, legs spread out in front of him and hands to his sides on the sofa seats. He sat in exactly the position that Kurt would have instructed him to take. His face was in the shadow. The lamp by the door was on, so Romy knew he could see her clearly. She smiled seductively and sashayed over to him. On each side of the sofa was a low wooden table with a lamp. She bent down and switched on a lamp. She gasped in surprise; piercing blue eyes stared straight at her. Something about him intrigued her, almost feeling familiar. His gaze did not lower to her breasts, which were in full view. Odd, as usually that was what all the men fixated on. Instead it held her to him, and she was frozen on the spot. Never had she reacted like that. Romy mentally shook herself and recovered her composure, straightened up, and moved to light the other lamp.

“No!” A deep, commanding voice stopped her.

Okay, so he liked shadows, but they made her nervous of the unknown. She slowly walked across to the sound system and chose a track to dance to. Sometimes customers liked to choose their own music, but he had not done so. She selected R. Kelly’s “Ignition.” The beat kicked in, and Romy dropped her hip to the right, stepped back, and dropped her hip to the left. She swung round with her hands on her breasts, eyes half-closed, and really got into it. The music took over; she gyrated her hips toward him, and she slid her hands up and down her body. She wove her body back around to him and bent forward, giving him a great view of her ass as she brought her hands up to separate her cheeks and quickly let go. Spinning around again, she bounced to the music, knowing her breasts were the star of the show for this bit. She let her hands wander between her legs and into her black panties before moving her hand out and pinging the elastic.

The whole time she maintained as much eye contact as she could. Licking her lips often and moving forward, she put her breasts as close as she could without touching. Turning around she placed her hands on his legs and felt firm thighs. She sat in his lap and ground her ass into his obvious erection. The movements were meant to arouse the customer into paying for more time. Some even climaxed, which was why there were tissues and wipes under the table. This time she found herself lost to the music, and the contact with his jeans-clad cock sent jolts throughout her body. She touched herself in time with the rhythm, getting aroused as the heat between them rose. Romy had never felt so good dancing for anyone before.

This was when some customers lost control and tried to make a grab. So she got up and strutted to the door. She spun on the spot and spread her arms, draping herself across the door, swinging her hips so her ass was rubbing against the wood behind her. The rubbing action caused him to shift his position. She knew he was trying to make his hard cock more comfortable in his jeans. His blues eyes sparkled, and she could see he was clenching his jaw; his hands were fisted at his sides. She danced closer to the door, hips swinging, ass at all angles, and breasts squeezed together. The track went into fade, and Romy gradually stopped, smiling her “were you happy with that” smile, and stood still.

That had been amazing; she had never felt so alive, so eager to show herself to a man before. He stood up slowly. Then he walked over to her, his movements that of a prowling animal. The bulge in his trousers was obvious. Romy took a step back and hit the door, and she gulped. He was huge next to her; in her heels she stood at five feet ten inches, but he was well over six feet with huge shoulders, blond, shoulder-length hair, and a stubbled chin. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a few notes, and hooked them into her red lace bra. That brief touch sent sparks through, her straight to her clit. He was so close; she could feel his warmth and longed to be closer still. He took a deep breath as though he were inhaling her scent, and she groaned inwardly.

Leaning forward he said, “Thank you, Romy.”

His hot breath fanned her neck. She gazed up at him.
How did he know my name
? Kurt never gave the girls’ names to customers. She twisted the door handle and found Kurt waiting on the other side for her. Her customer walked past her into the main bar without saying anything further.

“You okay? I saw him move close up. He touch you or anything?” Kurt eyed her with concern.

“All’s fine, Kurt.” She gave him a smile and patted him on the arm. As they walked she asked, “Did you tell him my name?”

“No, it’s against the rules. You know that. Why do you ask?” Kurt turned to her.

“No reason.” She shrugged and walked off to the changing room to get ready for her next set.