Chapter 8 Dean
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dean
Icouldn’t have timed this better if I’d tried.
The Southside Detectives showing up to question me, only to find out that the Lead Detective’s sister is working for me will be all over the streets by nightfall.
As far as the job goes, it’s perfect. But I’ll admit, I don’t like forcing Sloan’s confrontation with her sister about her involvement with me.
I trust Sloan not to blow my cover, but this has already been a rollercoaster day for her.
“I’ll make this up to you when it’s over,” I whisper in her ear before reaching my arm around her shoulder to press my thumb to the keypad and open the door, leaving my arm draped around her shoulder.
“As I said,” I say as soon as the door opens.
“What can I help you with?” I squeeze Sloan’s shoulder—both to comfort her and to make a show to the Detectives.
“We were busy.” I stare at Becky Reid with a cocky grin.
“Sloan?” Becky shrieks before glaring at me. “What is my sister doing here?”
“Your sister?” I ask in mock surprise before turning Sloan to face me. “You didn’t tell me you were related to pigs. I don’t know if this is gonna work out after all. I’ll find someone else…”
“No,” Sloan pleads. “I need this job. I lost everything else today. Don’t take this from me, too.” She puts on a perfect pout as she runs her hand up my chest. “I’ll make it worth your while. My sister and I aren’t close. We don’t even talk to each other about anything that matters.”
She’s putting on a show, but I hear the true hurt in her tone. So does her sister if the droop in her shoulders is any indication.
“Okay,” I say before kissing Sloan on the forehead.
“You can stay. But I expect you to make it well worth my while. Why don’t you head on back to the dressing room and get ready for your audition.
” Once she turns to walk back toward the stage, I turn my attention back to the detectives to see Tyler Sheppard with his hand on Becky’s arm, stopping her from launching herself at me.
“Now, tell me what you want so I can get back to getting my dick wet.”
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Lancaster.” Becky pulls her arm from Tyler’s grip with a wince before squaring off with me. “But my sister is not working here.”
I cross my arms and shrug as I lean against the doorframe, effectively blocking them from entering the club. This argument needs to be seen by the other business owners peeking out the doors of the surrounding buildings anyway.
“Seems like she’s a grown ass woman to me, Detective.” I stand up straight, looming over them as I say, “Now, unless you’re here on official business, I’d like to get back to mine.”
“We’re sorry for interrupting your day, Mr. Lancaster,” Tyler says as he steps between his superior and me.
“We’re investigating an attack on the owner of Ink Runners.
” He points to the tattoo parlor across the street, and I glance in that direction to see Slade Lockwood standing outside the door with his arms crossed.
“Who the fuck in their right mind would attack that guy?” I ask, making both detectives turn to look over their shoulders in confusion.
“He’s not the owner,” Tyler offers. “The owner is a female who was brutally attacked a year and a half ago.”
“Well.” I shrug. “I wouldn’t know anything about that since I just bought this building a few weeks ago.”
“We’re just doing our due diligence,” Tyler says as he raises his hands in surrender. “We’ll let you get back to your…business.”
He steps back, keeping himself between Becky and the door. I grin at her over his shoulder as I step back and let the door close between us.
I walk toward Sloan, where she’s waiting by the bar since she couldn’t get back into the employee hallway.
I hadn’t gotten around to giving her a tour yet, so I lead to the door at the end that leads to the dressing room.
I lean against the doorframe and watch as she steps inside to inspect the accommodations.
I hope she approves, because I had it designed based on more cyber stalking of her search history.
“This is incredible,” she says when she turns to see me watching her. “I couldn’t have designed it any better myself.”
“I’m glad you approve,” I say. Instead of asking if she’s okay after the confrontation with her sister—since I’m not sure I have the right—I offer something that I know will take her mind off it. “You wanna take the stage for a spin?”
“Is it time for my audition?” She struts toward me with that grin that makes my dick hard.
“If you want to call it that.” I shrug. “Sure.” I lean down and run my nose along the side of her face before whispering in her ear, “I really want to see my tiny dancer own her own stage.”
“Tiny dancer?” She pulls her head back to look at me with wide eyes as she realizes that I was the one who programmed that song to play every time she linked her phone to any Bluetooth device. “I don’t know if I want to dance for you, kiss you, or punch you.”
“It doesn't bother you that I infiltrated your Spotify?” I ask when as she scowls at me playfully.
“That depends,” she says. When I raise a brow in question, she asks, “Are you really mine? Or is that just something you said in the heat of the moment?”
“Sloan.” I use her name, so she knows how serious I am when I tell her, “I’ve been yours for almost ten years.” I stop her when she attempts to launch herself into my arms. “But there are things I’ve done…things you should know before you decide if you want to be mine.”
“Okay,” she agrees. “You can tell me after my audition.” She shoos me out of the room before closing the door.
I walk into the Tech Booth to queue the lights and program Tiny Dancer by Elton John to play as soon as the sensor indicates she’s in position.
When the light above center stage flashes, I rush to the VIP table to be seated when she appears from behind the curtain.
I try to look relaxed, but I fail miserably when she steps out in a black bralette and tutu, looking like my own personal dancing dahlia.
She blends classical ballet moves with an exotic twist, like she’s had this routine choreographed for years. She engages me at every turn with the perfect mix of sensual seductress and demure dancer to have future customers going wild for a chance to get her in one of the private rooms.
It dawns on me that I’m going to have to watch from my office as the lowlifes of this town do exactly that. I’m going to have to watch her dance for them, engage them, and…entertain their fantasies. It’s how she’ll get them to drop their guard enough to spill the secrets we’re trying to uncover.
Before I can call a halt to the whole operation, she’s dancing dangerously close to the edge of the stage in front of me.
When my gaze meets hers, she steps off the stage and onto the table in front of me.
She rises up to a point and twirls in front of me before dropping to her knees, flashing me the black lace thong under her tutu as the song ends.
Then, she lifts her head to meet my gaze, seeking my approval of her performance.