Chapter 7
Logan
S he’s cute, actually. Not just hot and beautiful, but charmingly cute with shocked blue eyes and slightly parted pink lips.
“Thanks for the drink,” I drawl as the gorgeous blonde sets a crystal number down on the table. “Care to join me?”
Emma knows the right answer and nods slightly, her eyes still wide.
“Certainly, sir,” she murmurs before setting down her silver platter. “But not too long because I’m on shift right now.”
We both know that’s a lie because her purpose as a hostess is to take care of clients.
I am her focus in life for the next two hours, and management knows that.
Besides, they’ve got a roster of girls to draw from if Emma gets busy.
There are more than a few pretty young things that Club Z can summon with a quick phone call, should the occasion require it.
But we both let her comment slide as she settles in beside me in the booth.
Up close, Emma is even more gorgeous than I believed.
Her skin is clear and glowing with round cheeks and a plush, pink pout.
Her lips are full, the cupid’s bow accentuated by only a small slick of lipstick, and immediately, I have visions of that pink color smeared all over my dick.
I see her golden head bent down, her mouth parting to take my hardness down her throat and goddamn, but my cock jerks in my pants.
But first, I want to get to know the young woman.
I’m not often “off” in my assessment of females, but it’s happened before, and who knows, maybe there’s been in a slip in Club Z hiring procedures.
Maybe they’ve let a woman loose on the floor who’s a manipulative bitch behind an innocent exterior.
Not that she would last long because I’ve dealt with my share of hags, and they always regret tangling with Logan Blackshaw.
But I keep things surface-level for the present.
“Let me introduce myself,” I say in a smooth tone. “I’m Logan Blackshaw. And you are?”
“Emma,” she murmurs with a glance down at her folded hands. “Emma Kincaid.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma,” I say politely.
“Would you like to order a cocktail for yourself? It’s rude for me to be drinking on my own.
” That’s bullshit because I don’t feel bizarre at all, but it’s a social nicety to offer a woman a little something when you’re imbibing, and I want Emma to be relaxed in my presence.
“Oh no, I’m okay,” she murmurs, cheeks flushing. “Actually, I’m not old enough to drink yet. Almost, but not quite.”
I stare hard. Fuck. I knew she was young, but obviously, I had no idea just how young.
“So you’re eighteen?” I ask, praying that she says yes.
Goddamn, if those fuckers in management have started hiring underage girls, I’m going to have to have a word because this particular fact matters to me.
I don’t care if they have ho-bags working as servers but if those servers are illegal .
.. fuck ! To their credit, Minnesota’s age of consent is sixteen, but the law is tangled and bizarre, and the club generally sticks to eighteen to be safe.
Fortunately, a sweet smile wreathes Emma’s features as she turns to me.
“I’m twenty,” she murmurs. “A junior in college.”
I nod, quickly calculating my options. Twenty is good. Twenty is definitely legal. Twenty is young still, but she’s a woman ... which opens a veritable host of possibilities. My dick jerks under the table again, getting harder by the minute. Fuck!
“So tell me, where are you studying?” I ask casually, as if this is the most normal conversation in the world. “I never finished college myself, so I’m always impressed by someone who goes the distance.”
Emma smiles sweetly.
“I’m at Evergreen across town, and I’m pre-med,” she says, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s difficult, but I enjoy it.”
My brows go up.
“Kudos, sweetheart, because I’ve heard pre-med is a tough major. Or is that even a major?” I ask.
Emma shakes her head, her delicate features serious.
“It’s not. I have classmates majoring in French, Creative Writing, and Rhetoric, while taking a full load of pre-med courses.
But it’s definitely easier if you concentrate in something related to science, like Biology or Chemistry.
There’ll be a natural overlap among the classwork required, so the schoolwork is streamlined. ”
I think for a minute.
“Yeah, that makes sense,” I drawl. Then, I turn my blue gaze to her. “So are you a Biology major? Or something totally unrelated to science?”
Emma flushes again, her hands fidgeting slightly, and this is the first hint that something’s off. I don’t think this woman’s being completely open about her course of study, and her body language gives it away.
“I’m majoring in Bio, and I like it okay,” she says while casting her gaze downwards. “I mean, it helps because I’ll be taking the MCAT soon.”
“The MCAT?” I ask, brows rising.
She flushes.
“Oh sorry. It’s the standardized exam that medical schools require for application. It covers the usual subjects, like physics, biochemistry, organic chemistry, and the like. It even has questions on psychology and sociology.”
“Really,” I drawl. “That’s bizarre.”
Emma shakes her head, smiling a bit.
“No, it makes sense because doctors interact a lot with patients. Not all doctors, mind you,” she says.
“There are some medical doctors who focus on research, so they spend most of their time in the lab among test tubes and microscopes. But a lot of physicians still see patients, so understanding how to work with people, and how the practice of medicine shapes entire communities, is key.”
I nod, intrigued.
“Funny, I never thought of that,” I say. “I immediately assumed all doctors saw patients, but you’re right. Medical research is a huge field, especially since Covid. Goddamn, I fucking hated lockdown. Were you stuck in the dorms throughout that period, taking classes remotely?”
Emma flushes prettily.
“I was taking classes remotely, but I was in high school then,” she says with a smile. “I’m only twenty, remember? I went through part of high school during the Covid era.”
My dick twitches again.
“I’m sorry,” I chuckle in a rough voice, although I’m not actually sorry at all. “I keep forgetting because you come off as really mature. As you can see, I’m still suffering from Covid brain fog.”
“No, you’re not!” Emma replies with a playful smile. “Everyone thinks I’m older than I am because I’m so serious all the time. At least that’s what they tell me,” she quips.
“Really,” I growl. “How old do they think you are?”
Emma smiles sweetly, cocking her head at me.
“Usually, people think I’m twenty-five, but I’m not. Twenty-five is ancient!” she laughs. “Maybe I should be offended.”
“Not when you’re an old codger like me,” I growl with a humorous grin. “How old do you think I am?”
The beautiful blonde bites her lip as she studies me.
I know what she sees: a huge man, with jet black hair brushed back, a square jaw, and bright blue eyes.
I also work out like a motherfucker in my private gym each morning, so I’m muscular and fit.
Still, some young women are terrible at estimating age, and Emma’s one of them.
She studies me, taking in my chiseled features and sculpted physique.
“Thirty-five,” she says while tilting her head in the cutest way. “Am I right?”
I chuckle deep in my chest, genuinely amused.
“Not even in the ballpark because I’m forty-five, not thirty-five. But thanks for the compliment.”
A small hand flies up to her lips as her eyes go round.
“Really? Forty-five?”
“Yep, for sure,” I say with a grin while taking another sip of my drink. “I promise. I’ll even show you my driver’s license.”
“Oh no, no!” Emma protests with a sweet smile, waving her hands. “That’s not necessary. I believe you. You look way younger though.”
I grin, genuinely liking this girl although we’ve only chatted about ten minutes. She’s cute, and impishly sassy with a sparkle to her eye that I didn’t anticipate.
“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say with a wink. “Most dudes don’t mind looking older because it gives them an air of gravitas. Do you think I have that? Or do I need to work on it?”
Emma looks at me, blushing, and nods.
“Yes, definitely, you have it, Mr. Blackshaw. No need to practice in front of a mirror,” she teases.
I laugh because I’m having a good time. When I invited Emma to join me in my booth, I though it’d be the same that it always is, which is stilted conversation and awkward smiles before leading to heavy fucking upstairs in one of the private rooms. But instead, I’m intrigued by this woman.
She’s sassy, funny, and incredibly intelligent, which I never expected.
Hell, she’s pre-med which takes a fuck-ton of brain cells.
Maybe she’s not as into medicine as she claims, but I can figure that out later.
Meanwhile, my mouth opens as I say something that surprises me.
“Would you like to come over later?” I ask. “Not upstairs, but to my place. I live downtown.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t,” she says, flushing wildly. “I’m on shift.”
I shake my head.
“I’m not saying tonight. Another night. Whatever night works for you.”
What the fuck am I doing? Why do I sound so desperate?
Usually, I’m the man in charge, with women falling at my feet.
They come running in hordes, throwing themselves at me like I’m the last sentient dude on Earth.
But at this moment, I’m the one who’s become a fucking fool before this gorgeous girl, and I marvel at the turnabout.