Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
AUSTIN
Changing into my costume, I let out a heavy sigh as I slip on my satin black robe, then begin prepping my face for makeup.
I don’t know who the hottie was who called me babe earlier, but I can’t get him out of my head.
I don’t need to know him either. What I need is to do my job, collect my money, deposit it into my bank account, go home, and pay my bills.
“My god, did you see him?” one of the girls cries as soon as she walks into the dressing room.
I ignore her, just like I ignore all of them. It’s not that I don’t like them. It’s that I don’t want to get to know them or like them. This isn’t the place for me to make friends. I am here for no other reason than to make some money.
“That man is fine as hell. I don’t know where they brought him from, but I’d much rather fuck him than some eighty-year-old guy.”
“I’d fuck him just to fuck him. He doesn’t have to pay me a goddamn dime.”
This room at the strip club gives me all the tea. I love it, and I freaking love the fact that I’m not involved in any of it whatsoever. I listen half of the time, have no clue who or what they’re talking about, and then go home.
Except for them talking about him tonight, it makes me want to tell them to shut the fuck up. And since I have no right to do that, I stay completely silent and just listen as I finish my stage makeup.
Just six months ago, I would have been pinning my hair into a tight bun, using stage makeup with red lips for the ballet, slipping on a leotard and tights, and checking my costume in the mirror.
Now, I’m pulling on a sparkly bra that won’t be on for long, G-string panties, high heels, and sparkly short shorts. I hate all of it. Fighting back tears, I blink them away before I clear my throat and take one last look in the mirror.
Good enough.
Moving toward the door, I try to ignore the gushing about the sexy stranger. I am not someone who really gushes over a man, but I can see why they are on him because he was hot as shit.
Like, really, next-level hot.
Standing on the side of the stage, I wait for my turn. Closing my eyes for a moment, I hold my breath as the music ends. Opening them, I watch as the lights dim and the dancer collects her money, then rushes off of the stage.
Lifting my arms, I wrap my fingers around the pole and wait for my music to begin. When it does, the sexy bass begins to flow through me before the lights are turned up. My hips sway from side to side, and I let myself be consumed by the music.
I allow my body to feel the rhythm. I force myself to forget about all of the men watching me, ignoring the fact that they’re all waiting to see me naked. I pretend that I’m at the ballet and they’re appreciating my dance for the art that it is and not my bare tits.
Also, I remind myself, on repeat, that I am doing this to pay my bills.
The moment that I undo my bra, the lights suddenly go dim, and I freeze. Looking around, I’m not sure what to do. This has never happened before. My feet become unstuck from my frozen place on the floor, and I move toward right wing.
I open my mouth to ask the stagehand what Is going on when I collide with a man’s body.
“What the…?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, I feel his shoulder in my stomach, and then my body is being lifted from the floor as if I’m completely weightless.
Letting out a squeal, I grab hold of his belt at his waist. He walks through the darkness of the back of the stage, and before I realize what’s happening, I hear a door slam somewhere behind me, and then my body moves down the front of his until my feet touch the floor.
My feet hit the carpeting, and my eyes shift up to meet the man’s gaze who carried me in here.
It’s him.
The hottie in leather.
My mouth goes dry at the sight of him.
ADAM
The moment she stepped out on the stage, I knew that there was no way in fuck I was going to allow her to take her clothes off in this club with that many men sitting around foaming at the mouth to see all of her naked body on display.
Fuck that.
All of it.
Her eyes meet mine as her feet touch the floor, and we stare at one another for a moment in silence.
Then she narrows her eyes and presses her lips together.
I watch as she takes half a step backward but, thankfully, doesn’t move any farther away from me.
I don’t think that I could handle her walking away right now.
“What are you doing?” she hisses, her eyes narrowing on me.
It’s clear she’s pissed as fuck, and that’s cute as fuck. Smiling, I tilt my head to the side, unable to take my eyes off of her. She’s growing angrier each moment that I don’t respond to her. I couldn’t give an absolute fuck less about that.
“You’re not dancing on that stage,” I grind out.
Her eyes widen, and she leans forward slightly. The anger and determination is cute as fuck in her face.
“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but this is my job. You’re going to get me fired.”
I don’t tell her that right now I’m the fucking boss, and it would be me who would have to fire her. I would be more than happy to do that, too, because she’s not showing any part of her to these thirsty fuckers.
Instead, I grin, look down at her, and then take a step toward her. She is fucking pissed, beyond pissed, and it’s seriously cute as fuck. I bet she would be a wild fuck pissed off like this.
“It doesn’t matter who I am. I just need you to realize that you are not doing that shit.”
Not until I figure out why I am so fucking attracted to her. Why I feel the need to lay some kind of claim to her. I could fuck a dozen different women tonight, but I don’t want any of them.
I want her.
Her breath hitches at my words, and there is something that crosses her face. Anger is still present, but it’s something else. Maybe she’s scared. She fucking should be—terrified even.
Lifting my hand between us, I reach out and cup her cheek. Sliding the pad of my thumb across her bottom lip, my eyes stare into hers. Those green orbs fucking consume me. Her breathing comes out in soft pants, causing my cock to twitch.
Leaning forward, I move my thumb from her mouth, keeping my hand against her cheek, and shift so close to her that my lips almost touch hers.
“Beg me to kiss you,” I rasp.
She doesn’t say anything immediately. Her breathing continues to come out in soft, short pants. Then, she takes a step backward. Her eyes meet mine as she takes in a deep breath before letting out a long exhale.
“I don’t kiss men I don’t know,” she murmurs.
My lips twitch into a smirk, and I know she regrets her words as soon as they escape her lips because I leave nothing out when I speak next.
“But you’ll let them see you naked and dance for them?”
Her eyes widen, and then I watch her face pale as her gaze flicks down to her feet. Slowly, she lifts her eyes to meet mine and I see it there. The shame. I made her feel that. She shouldn’t, and I fucking hate myself for it immediately.
But that doesn’t mean that I apologize because that’s not who I am. Instead, I lift my hand again. This time, my fingers wrap around the side of her throat. My thumb slides up and down the column a few times, taking in the softness of her skin and the fragility of her neck.
My hand falls away before I take a step backward. “Stay here,” I demand before I turn around and walk out of the room, slamming the door closed behind me.
Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out slowly and wonder what the actual fuck is wrong with me. Walking away from the room, I head straight for Bugsy’s office. I am going to find out everything that I possibly can about this woman.
Then I’m going to claim her.