Chapter 1
one
ONE YEAR AGO
There’s only one word I can think of to describe hanging upside down from a pole at one of Vancouver, Washington’s most popular strip clubs.
Fun.
But right now, despite the fact that all eyes are on me—which is something I’m more than used to—I feel a tingling sensation along my spine. Like someone is watching me.
Intently.
Which is saying something, because that’s what people come here to do. Watch.
Scanning the room, my eyes skim over the crowd until they record-scratch on one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen.
He’s sitting at a table in the VIP section at the back of the club, nursing a beer. Even from here, I can tell that he’s tall.
Legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, his black hair is cropped close to his head on the sides, with just enough length on top for me to be able to run my fingers through it. His strong jaw is set in a way that screams he’s trying his best not to look impressed.
When our eyes lock, the force of his gaze hits me so hard that if it wasn’t for my thighs instantly clenching in response, I’d slide right off the pole into a molten puddle of goo on the stage.
I watch, mesmerized, as his hot friend, eyes on me, leans over and says something in his ear. Contrast like night and day to the dark-haired, broody guy who’s captured my attention, this one exudes a lighter energy.
His longish, dark blond hair is streaked and sun-kissed, falling carelessly across his forehead. And fuck me, he’s built. Broad shoulders fill out his blue and black flannel shirt, his forearms, corded with muscle, taunting me from where he has the sleeves rolled halfway.
There’s a ruggedness to him that makes my stomach flip, like he would be just as comfortable hiking an effing mountain as he is hanging out at a strip club.
Dark & Broody’s eyes narrow as he playfully shoves his friend away, who just laughs and downs the rest of his drink, shrugging with a smirk.
My song changes, pulling me from my trance. The beat pulses through me, and I let it take over. Arching my back, I spread my legs into a V, causing the mostly male crowd to erupt in hoots and hollers.
Side-eyeing the two men, my heart lurches when I see Hot & Smirky set his empty glass down on the table. Taking a wad of cash out of his pocket, he smoothly rises from his seat and casually wanders over to the stage.
My skin squeaks against the pole as I slide, making me cringe inside. Not only am I wet, but my thighs are sweating. Ass hitting the platform, I twist onto all fours, making eye contact with Smirky as I crawl across the stage.
As I do, his smirk softens a little, gaze darkening as I move slowly, rolling my hips.
Biceps bunching, he watches me with enough heat in his eyes to burn a skyscraper to the ground.
When I reach the edge of the stage, I push up to kneel before him, mirroring the cant of his head and shimmy my breasts.
“Damn. You sure do look an awful lot like trouble, Pretty.”
My pussy pulses at the sound of his voice. Smooth and deep, it’s the kind of tone one would imagine the MMC in your favorite smutty book would sound like, murmuring dirty words in your ear as he fucks into you from behind. Hard.
My only answer is a small smile as I pull the side of my T-back away from my hip, heart rioting dangerously in my chest.
Reaching out, he slowly drags a twenty-dollar bill down my side—no touching allowed, unless you want to be thrown out on your ass—before tucking it in.
Snapping the stretchy fabric back into place, I rise, putting my pussy in line with his face. His fiery gaze tracks my hand as I brush my middle and forefinger along my center over the sparkly fabric.
As the music starts to fade, his eyes snap up to mine again. For some reason what I see in them throws me off my game, which causes me to turn around abruptly in surprise, leaving him face to face with my ass as I grab my cash and hurry the fuck backstage.