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When I left the bathroom, the music pressing into me from all sides, I felt better. Stronger, more relaxed, ready to have fun. My gran always said life was what you made it, so I was going to make it a party! I swayed to the music on my way to check on my tables. Up on stage, Cass was dancing to his next set, this time in a sexy maid’s uniform, complete with fishnet stockings and high heels. He arched his back, his hands grasping the pole over his head, and slid down, the metal lined up with his ass crack. He hadn’t even taken off his clothes yet, and there were already bills littering the stage. Cass was a performer and went all in. He made all his own costumes, planned all his choreography. He lived for this, and it showed.
The rest of the night seemed to fly by. I did my best to avoid hanging around the bachelor party, but at a certain point, they’d had too much to drink to even see the strippers, let alone think clearly enough to come up with inappropriate pickup lines. Well before closing, the bartender cut them off and called them cabs, and all but one called it quits. The last guy—Mr. Floppy Dick himself—sat slumped in the corner of the booth, nursing a glass of water.
As I was wiping down a table, I felt a heated gaze on me, and I knew instinctively that it was Max Shepherd. He’d been watching me all night, even more than the dancers on the stage, as if enthralled by me. To have his attention was intoxicating; it made me feel powerful. He wasn’t drinking much, so I had to make up excuses to stop by his table—like a fresh glass of water because his ice had melted. He kept our interactions very PG, which was hilarious considering where we were, but there was nothing innocent about the look in his eyes. He was hungry, and I very much wanted to be the one to feed him.
I didn’t date much. The only guys I ever seemed to meet at work were either dancers or the type of guy to ogle dancers, and neither of them were my type. Max, though… he somehow didn’t seem to fit into either of those categories.
Adding a bit of sway to my hips, I sauntered over to the table, giving him ample opportunity to let his eyes roam down my body… and linger just south of my waist. “Last call,” I told him, keeping my voice low so he had no choice but to come closer to hear me. His cologne was warm and spicy, like nutmeg and sage. “Did you want one last drink?”
“No, thanks. Honestly? I prefer to stay sober,” he said, shrugging. “A hangover makes memorizing my lines impossible, and we start filming on Monday.” He shifted in his tall chair so his knee brushed my thigh, setting a trail of goosebumps marching up and under my short shorts, making my balls clench. “You must be glad the night is almost over. I haven’t seen you sit down once. Your feet must be killing you. I hope you have someone to rub them for you…” His eyes flashed. He was totally fishing for my relationship status.
I tried to bite down on my smile and failed, my lips stretching. “Nope, no one. I guess I’ll just have to soak in a bathtub all by my lonesome.” I sighed dramatically, waiting for the offer I knew was coming. I got propositioned all the damn time here, but this was the first time I’d been tempted to accept.
“That’s a damn shame,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. I watched as his tongue peeked out from his mouth, wetting his bottom lip in a slow swipe that made my knees weak. “It’s a rough neighborhood. I could walk you to your car after your shift if you’d like?”
Logic told me to turn him down. It went against all our rules. Leaving with a customer was just asking for trouble, and there were plenty of security staff willing to walk me out. But then my eyes flicked over to the booth beside us, the bachelor-party flasher leering at me lecherously, and it made my skin crawl.
“Sure,” I said, turning back to Max. “I’d appreciate it.” I felt safe with Max, not least of all because everyone here knew who he was. “Let me just grab my stuff and I’ll be right back.”
Cass was sitting in front of his mirror with a wet wipe, taking off his makeup, when I entered the changing room. “Hey, babe. Are you too tired, or do you want to stay up and stream some Lonely Alpha with me? If I don’t watch the newest episode tonight, I just know someone’s going to spoil it for me tomorrow, and I wanna know if Derrick got evicted from the house.”
“Actually…” I said slowly, and something about my voice had him snapping his gaze over to me. “Can you catch a ride with Danny?” I bit down on my lip.
“Arlo Christopher Lotz,” he gushed, using my full name so I knew he was serious. “Did you meet someone? Start talking. Details, now. I need to know everything.”
“Uh-uh, nope. He’s waiting for me, so I’ll fill you in later, but I didn’t want you to worry in case I don’t come home tonight. I’ll text you later.” I grabbed my jacket and bag from my cubby, not bothering to change into my street clothes. What was the point in putting on more layers if I was just going to take them off again?
He gave a dramatic gasp. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me hanging! I would never do that to you.” Technically true, because he was an oversharer. “Lunch! Tomorrow!” he called after me on my way out. “Or I’m revoking your best friend status!”
I hoped I had something juicy to tell him.
4
Max
It felt surreal, walking out from the club to be reminded there was this whole world outside. I had been so ensconced inside the dimly lit club, with the pulsing music and suffocating pheromones, that I’d started to believe it was real. Inside The Bar Cherry, I became someone else—free of expectations and responsibility.
Outside, however, as the cool night air rushed into my lungs, reality came crashing down, leaving me both hot and cold at the same time. I blinked mutely, disoriented as I tried to cling to the vibe I’d been surfing just moments ago. I missed the confident, invincible man I was. In its place, I now felt the first prick of doubt.
Arlo walked at my side, silent, as if he too felt the shift. Our arms brushed, and I was suddenly aware that the bar’s rules no longer applied. There were no security guards telling me to keep my distance. He peeked at me from the corner of his eye, and when our gazes met, we both chuckled, aware of how ridiculous we were acting, like shy teenagers.
Part of me thought I should’ve gotten a room in the back with one of the strippers for something more private, relieved some of the tension building up inside me, but once I laid eyes on Arlo, nobody else would do. He was a gem, I just knew it. And holy hell, that tight ass he was sporting in those shorts. I was dying to spank him, because I just knew my palm print would pink up on that smooth, pale skin in the most beautiful way.
“My car is just over here,” he said, pointing to a little black car parked off to the side. The lot was almost empty by now, and it was late enough that I could hear individual cars driving down the distant streets, rather than the constant shush and honk of midday traffic.
We slowed as we approached his vehicle. He hesitated, keys in hand. Neither of us wanted the night to be over just yet, but I was no longer sure what I was doing. Maybe I really was just walking the man to his car, and now he would get in, drive away, and I would never see him again. But I could’ve sworn there was something between us, a spark. Was I wrong? Was it just an illusion of the club?
Arlo turned to face me and leaned back against his car door. “I love this time of night,” he said, smiling softly. His jacket fell open, and I couldn’t stop myself from letting my eyes dip lower. His shorts were so skimpy, it was more like a Speedo, and they were just as tight. He might as well be standing here in his underwear, but somehow, this was hotter.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, moving closer without conscious thought. My fingers twitched, and just like that, I was reaching for him, gripping his hips. “Why is that?” I asked to keep him talking. Without needing to yell over the music, his voice was slightly husky, and I was already obsessed with the way he drew his words out slowly, tantalizing.
He walked his fingers up my chest. “When the streets are empty and everyone is in bed asleep, you can stand in the middle of downtown and still be entirely alone,” he whispered, sliding his palm up and down my torso, and my nipples hardened when he skated past them, creating friction with the fabric of my shirt. My entire body came alive. “If I wanted to, I could strip myself bare and I doubt anyone would notice.”
“Mm,” I murmured, nuzzling his cheek, breathing him in. “I would notice.”
“Well, then you could strip down too. Imagine the things we could do… the things people might see if they looked out their window…”
I wondered what that would feel like. Not the public-indecency part, but the not being noticed. Nothing I did went unnoticed these days. Someone was always watching, judging my every move. If I sneezed, tabloids would speculate about illness, rumors circulating that I had some terminal disease. I loved acting, and I realized that with fame came a loss of privacy, but I was so damn tired of maintaining the image of who everyone had decided I must be.
