Chapter 14 #2
Then all three start laughing like I’ve told the funniest joke they’ve ever heard.
“I’m serious!” I move closer, craning my neck to meet their eyes. “You take my entertainment, you need to step in and replace it. That’s only fair.”
“Oh, we only strip for you,” Noel says, but he’s grinning.
“Look, I know this is insane.” I’m pleading now, and I don’t care.
“But I’m completely stuck here. I need your help.
My reputation is on the line, as is my business—everything I’m trying to build with this event-planning career.
So if I don’t deliver entertainment, my client will be furious, word will spread, and I’ll be done before I even start. ”
Chris studies me for a long moment. Then he sighs. “Okay, it’s doable. I’ll take these assholes to lockup and process them. You two take one for the team, just like I did with Santa.” He’s pointing at Noel and Kane.
“What? No!” Kane’s eyes enlarge, something close to panic flashing across his face. “Absolutely not. No way.”
“Hell no,” Noel adds, shaking his head. “I’m not a stripper, Chris. I hunt criminals, not dance for drunk women.”
“Come on,” Chris says, already hauling one of the dancers toward the exit. “For Hannah. She needs this.”
“I don’t dance,” Kane protests. “I can’t dance. I’ll look like an idiot up there.”
“You won’t,” I promise. “You just have to move to the music. Be sexy. The women will eat it up.”
“Be sexy,” Kane repeats flatly. “That’s your professional advice?”
“Yes,” I say firmly.
Noel and Kane are looking at each other, having some kind of silent conversation.
“You’d be helping her out,” Chris says slowly.
“We’d be making fools of ourselves,” Kane counters.
“She needs us,” Noel adds, surprising me with his changing tune.
“She’s asking us to strip,” Kane states.
“In front of fifty women,” Noel says. “Who are very drunk and will probably throw things.”
“Guys,” I interrupt their back-and-forth. “Please. I’m begging you. I’ll owe you anything. Name it. Whatever you want.”
Kane’s eyes darken at that. “Anything?”
“Within reason,” I amend quickly.
Noel is grinning now. “Fine. But you owe us big-time.”
“Thank you!” I could kiss them both. Actually, I want to kiss all three, but there’s no time.
Chris is wrestling the three dancers toward the door. “Come help me get these assholes into the truck first. Then you two can play stripper.”
“Fuck off,” one of the dancers spits.
“Keep talking,” Chris says pleasantly. “I love when they resist. Makes the paperwork more fun.”
Noel and Kane move to help, each grabbing a criminal. The six of them disappear out the back door into the alley, where I assume their truck is parked.
Ruby pops her head around the corner. “Safe to enter? What’s happening? Everyone’s getting antsy out there.”
“Small change of plans,” I say quickly as she joins me. “We have bounty hunter strippers now.”
Ruby’s eyes light up. “Those three massive guys who just tackled your dancers? They’re stripping?”
“Two of them. The third’s taking the criminals in to process.”
“Holy shit.” Ruby is laughing now, her whole face lighting up. “Who are they? Like, professionally? Friends of yours?”
“Actually…” I bite my lip. “They’re my scent matches. All three of them. We’re still figuring things out. It’s new and complicated, but yeah. Those initial strippers? They were actual wanted criminals. So that was a real arrest you just witnessed.”
Ruby gasps. “Are you serious? That was real?”
“Completely. That’s been my life lately. Just absolute chaos.”
“That’s insane!” But she’s grinning. “Your scent matches are bounty hunters who just arrested your strippers, and now they’re going to strip instead?”
“Yep. That’s exactly what’s happening.”
“Best bachelorette party ever,” Ruby declares.
The back door opens, and Noel and Kane return, both looking slightly winded.
“Criminals secured,” Noel announces. “Chris is driving them to lockup. He says to stall as long as possible because he wants to get back in time to see this.”
Kane is already loosening up, rolling his shoulders. “Fuck, which boxers am I wearing today?” He checks his waistband, then chuckles. “Oh, these’ll work.”
“Same,” Noel says, grinning as he checks his own. He glances my way. “Not telling you, though. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“Okay, so here’s the plan,” I say, forcing my brain into event coordinator mode.
“You’re going in as bounty hunters who just caught the bad guys.
Keep the tactical look for now, strip down to your boxers.
Do some moves, hip thrusts, run your hands over your chests, flirt with the audience. Make them feel special.”
Both men are staring at me.
“That’s it?” Kane asks. “Just thrust and flex?”
“Basically, yeah, but also dance. The women will go wild. Trust me.”
Noel is already warming up, doing practice hip rolls that are surprisingly fluid. “I’m going to rock this for you.”
Kane turns pale. “My body isn’t made for this. Give me a tree to chop to music, and I’ll do it. This? Not my specialty.”
“You’ll be fine,” I assure him. “Just follow Noel’s lead, as he looks ready.”
“I have an idea for a joint routine,” Noel explains.
Kane groans. “Please tell me it’s not Dirty Dancing. I’m not lifting you above my head.”
Noel chuckles. “Nope, but the other night, I watched Magic Mike.”
“Of course you did,” Kane mutters.
“We’re going to grind that floor,” Noel continues. “Watch the women go wild for us. It’ll be fun.”
Ruby and I exchange glances. “This could flop spectacularly,” I whisper to her.
“Or it could be legendary,” Ruby counters. “Either way, it’s going to be entertaining.”
“I need a drink,” Kane says.
“After,” I tell him firmly. “You two practice. I’m going to calm the crowd and introduce you.”
I head back out front with Ruby, my heart pounding.
The women are getting restless, some standing and stretching, others at the bar getting refills.
The energy is flagging. I encourage everyone to get their last drinks as the next act is about to start, so they all rush to the bar, buying us some time.
Once they’re all back in their seats, Ruby’s DJ, who also runs the lights, dims them, and I grab the microphone from where it’s resting on a small table near the DJ booth set up in the corner, away from the stage.
The DJ nods at me, and I go over to him and ask for something high-beat but sexy. He ponders it, and finally he’s nodding. So with a deep breath, I step up onto the stage and lift the microphone to my mouth.
“Ladies!” I call out, and gradually conversations die down. “Are you having a good time?”
Cheers and whistles.
“Those bad boys who crashed our stage? They’re ready to take down their next targets. Could that be you?”
More cheers, and screams of “Me!”
“Well, they’re ready to give you a performance you’ll never forget!” I’m selling this hard, hoping I’m not overselling. “Just remember, no touching unless invited! Let’s hear it for The Bounty Hunters!”
The crowd erupts. Women are on their feet.
I hand the microphone back to Ruby, and we retreat to our spot by the brick wall.
“I have no idea what to expect,” she whispers.
“Me either. But here goes nothing.”
The DJ kills all the lights except for two blue spotlights that suddenly illuminate the back of the stage.
Noel and Kane are standing there, perfectly still, and even from here, I see the tension in their bodies.
The music starts with a heavy bass beat that I don’t just hear but also feel vibrate through my chest. It’s layered with something sultry underneath, a rhythm that makes my hips want to move.
The guys remain still for several long seconds, and panic flutters in my chest. Please don’t freeze. Don’t have stage fright.
Then they move. In perfect synchronization, they take slow, deliberate strides forward. Their boots hit the stage in pattern with the beat, and the sound echoes through the venue.
The women scream.
I smile, butterflies erupting in my stomach.
Noel reaches the front of the stage first, and he drops into a crouch so smoothly it looks choreographed. His hands run slowly down his chest, over his abs, down his thighs. Every movement is deliberate, sensual.
Kane mirrors him on the other side, and they’re feeding off each other’s energy.
They rise together, circling each other like predators, and then Noel drops to the floor in a perfect push-up position. He does a slow, grinding thrust that has me burning up, his muscles taut behind his clothes.
The crowd loses their minds.
Kane follows suit, their bodies moving in waves.
They roll onto their backs, then flip over again with this fluid grace I didn’t know they possessed, and spring to their feet.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. “When did they practice that?”
Ruby is fanning herself with her hand. “They’re incredible. My Alphas need to take lessons for my private sessions. This is professional-level.”
We’re both transfixed.
They start peeling off their tactical vests now, slowly, teasingly. They turn their backs to the audience and look over their shoulders with a wink before pulling their vests off and tossing them toward the back of the stage where they hit the stage with a loud clunking noise.
The long-sleeved compression shirts come next. Noel grabs the hem and pulls it over his head in one smooth motion, and the reveal of his body makes me forget how to breathe.
Muscles everywhere. His chest is sculpted, abs defined in perfect ridges, shoulders broad and powerful. The stage lights make his skin glow, highlighting every line and curve.
Kane’s shirt comes off next, and I’m drooling. Maybe even more so with how his muscles ripple as he moves.
Women are throwing things onto the stage now—money, definitely, but I also see what looks like a bra land near Kane’s feet.
Noel turns and does this slow ass-wiggle thing that should be ridiculous but somehow isn’t. Kane drops low, grinding against the floor, showcasing the strength in his arms and chest as he rolls back up.