Page 24 of Ripple Effect, Vol. 3

Bianca nods toward me. “She came with him tonight. This is his girl.”

Not even close.

“His girl, huh?” Her appraising gaze isn’t friendly as she looks me up and down, and by the purse in her lips, I can tell she’s on a hunt for flaws. “Robbing the cradle these days, I see.”

“She’s eighteen, Gina.” Ella’s flat tone accompanies the roll of her eyes. “And pretty. Let’s not forget pretty.”

Her comment heats my cheeks while I sit, feeling on display. I’ve no idea who this woman is, or what Ripley means to her, but I’m apparently an enemy.

“An eighteen year old shouldn’t be in a strip club that serves alcohol.”

Before I can retort, Ella twists around in her seat, propping an arm on the back of her chair. “And a fifty-five year old shouldn’t be trying to pick up twenty-something men at said strip club, either, but shit ain’t always what it should be.”

“How’d you like to be out flat on your ass?” Gina’s brow kicks up with her threat.

“I think you’ve got your F’s mixed up, Gina. Fucking and firing are two separate roles. You might be banging the boss but that doesn’t make you a boss. See the difference?” Ella winds back around, facing me again.

“All I’m saying is, there are a lot of shady people in this club. I’d hate for her to be harassed.” Gina extends a hand out to me, her nails perfectly painted against soft wrinkled skin. “Was nice to meet you … I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Dylan.”

“Dylan?” Her nose crinkles up as she garbles the name. “Like a boy’s name.”

“More like a perfectly capable bitch’s name.” I catch the catty flicker of her eye, as I withdraw my hand. “Thanks for your concern.”

The woman spins around and her hair follows suit, bouncing a flash of black flames behind her as she heads toward the door.

“What the hell was that all about?” I relax my muscles and sink back into the chair.

“Gina has been pining after Ripley for months.” Ella glances toward the door and back. “She’s fucked pretty much every man up in the club, including Ripley, so she says.”

Ripley had sex with that woman? I stare after her, watching the twitch of her hips as she exits the room. “So that puts me on her shit list.”

“Any woman who shows the slightest bit of interest in Ripley goes on her shit list. Most of the girls are scared of him, so nobody’s bothered … until you.”

“Well, I’m certainly no stranger to shit lists.”

“Seriously, though. What the hell are you doing with him?” Bianca asks, scooting closer to me, much closer than I’d like. “The guy can’t be all that gentle. Is he rough?”

“Bianca.” Ella’s eyes are sympathetic when she turns to face me. “Again, no offense. We’re just intrigued by this. He seems like he’d be a little crazy, is all.”

Oddly enough, Ripley does have a gentle side. It’s just buried below his rough surface. Even when he had me tied to a bed going through withdrawals, he never once hurt me.

“I guess our crazy lines up just right.”

“Along with everything else.” Ella winks at me and we’re back to Ripley’s package, just like that. “Damn, got me crossing my legs just thinkin’ about it.”

And I’ve had enough. Between talking about Ripley’s dick and her wetness, and Gina chasing his dick, I’m about ready to find something sharp to throw myself on.

I can’t sit back here with these women going on about how much they want to bang the man—particularly after the conversation I had with him on the way over. That it’s bothering me tells me I’m starting to develop feelings for the guy that I clearly don’t need to be feeling. At the end of our arrangement, I have to be able to part ways, and the more they talk about him, the more it makes me aware that I’m not as cool and detached as I’d like to be.

With the women engrossed in their phones, I abandon my chair and make my way to the hallway and out toward the exit that leads to the open tables. My heart is pounding inside my chest and when it occurs to me why I’m nervous, a small fire ignites in my veins. I’m breaking Ripley’s rule to sit tight. Well, when I walk out into the dark room, packed with mostly men crowding tables, every damn muscle in my body is tight. So technically, I am sitting tight.

Fuck him, anyway. I refuse to stay in a room full of women idolizing his dick.

A few eyes find me, but for the most part, it’s dark when the main lights dim, and a strobe light hits the stage.

I find a small table up toward the front and try to keep my back to the room full of sexually charged men, waiting for the next act.