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Before I can even question more deeply, I follow them down the hallway, staying back and acting casual so no one suspects anything. They go to the big room that is used for private lap dances, and Jimmy sprawls out while Sasha saunters over to pick out whatever music she’s going to use, temporarily leaving the door open.
I pause, leaning against the hallway wall, and take out my phone, clicking on the screen as though I’m texting but silently taking shot after shot. You can only see a bit of Jimmy from the side, but with the shots I got earlier being of his face, the clothing and his height instantly identify the faceless image as Jimmy.
I slip my phone back into my apron again before Sasha turns to close the door, knowing this will be a job well done and a hit story. I’m about to turn back onto the floor when I hear an angry voice behind me. “What the fuck are you doing, Meghan?”
I jump, startled and fearful as I look around. Shane steps forward from the end of the hallway, where he was standing in a dark corner. Considering he’s wearing black pants and a smoke gray silk shirt, he’s damn near a ninja.
His face is hard, his jaw clenched as he grabs my hand and drags me over to his hideaway corner, standing in front of me to block me in. “Shane, I—”
He shakes his head, looking down at me with iron-hard eyes. “Spill it.”
Thinking fast, I pull out my airhead act, letting my voice rise girlishly. “Oh my gosh, Shane. You scared the poop outta me. Are you just skulking over here in the dark?”
Put the attention back on him. Good job, Maggie. I can play young, dumb, and broke all night long. But he’s not having it at all. “One more time, Meg. What the fuck are you doing back here?”
I look into his dark eyes, which are boring into mine, and I can’t help it, my gaze drops to the floor submissively. I try to work my way back up, letting my eyes trace the multitude of tattoos visible on his forearms where his sleeves are rolled up. I’ve never seen them before, and they’re fascinating.
As I get higher, I follow where the tanned skin peeks out, and I can’t help but wonder how much of his shirt I’d need to unbutton in order to see the tats on his chest.
But my gaze stops at his mouth, not able to meet his eyes again.
Deciding that a speck of truth will work better than my airhead act, especially since he’s seen it with patrons before, I swallow my fear and let out a whisper. “Look, I’m a huge fan, okay? I just wanted to get a better look at him.”
Shane grins, cocky and obviously holding back his laughter. “You’re a basketball fan?”
I manage to look him in the eye, seeing his disbelief. “Well, maybe more of a Jimmy Keys fan than the whole sport. I always liked his wholesome family guy image. Seems that’s not real, though, considering he’s got Sasha grinding in his lap right this second. I just . . . I wanted to know for sure.”
Shane tilts his head. “I’ve been around here longer than you. Even good guys are bad sometimes, and bad guys are good sometimes. No one is a simple character all the time. People are more complex than that.”
I swallow, more of a gulp, honestly, and my eyes dip down again, intent on studying the buttons of his shirt and wondering about what’s underneath the thin, dark fabric in front of my eyes. “So, which one are you, a good guy or a bad guy?”
From my peripheral vision, I see Shane’s hand move, but I still freeze when he cups my chin, tilting my head back and forcing me to look up at him. There’s heat in his eyes, a tension in his body as he leans forward, basically looming over me due to our height differences.
“Weren’t you listening, Angel? I’m both good and bad. I suspect you are too.”
The throaty, deep challenging purr of his voice drives the breath from my lungs as my pussy clenches, moisture almost immediately wetting the cotton of the good girl undies I’m wearing. Yeah, I am a good girl . . . but I so want to be naughty with him.
I suddenly realize my jaw is hanging open in his hand, and I force my mouth shut, my teeth clacking together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Shane’s thumb traces along my jawline, sending another thrill down my spine to stoke the heat inside me. “Pity,” Shane softly growls, looking both amused and disappointed. “You looked so pretty with your mouth wide-open and waiting. Waiting for something . . . to suck on.”
