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I alternate door duty with Nick, letting him do the next floor sweep per protocol. A static position sometimes makes me antsy. But for right now, I lean against the doorframe, appreciating the best view of Meghan in the house.
I continue my scan of the room, checking customers, the bar, and the stage, but my eyes always return to the tiny, sweet blonde that is slowly driving me insane. “God damn, what I would do to you if I had a chance,” I whisper to myself, knowing the heavy rock music will obliterate the words before anyone can hear them. Still, as if by some form of ESP, Meghan taunts me, crouching down with her ass near her heels to hear a guy’s order. He’s looking straight down her bustier at her tits and I have to hold myself back from beating the shit out of him just for looking at her. My restraint is rewarded as she rises back up, shifting her skirt back into place and giving me a bigger peek at the curve of her ass. She heads towards the bar to turn in the order, but I see the way she peeks over to check if I’m watching.
Two can play that game, little girl. I casually reach down and adjust my cock, my face hard and stoic as I give her a disapproving look. She squeaks I think. I can’t hear it, but the way she jumps a bit and her mouth flies open, I imagine the shocked sound coming from her throat. I laugh to myself, but I’m not sure if she won that round or I did.
Still, I keep my cool, keeping myself under control as the night wears on. Meghan’s friend shows up right before closing time, and the two have a long sit-down talk while Marco and I finish up the cleaning.
“Thanks, Shane,” Meghan says as they get ready to head out the door. Her friend’s gone off to use the ladies’ room, and it’s just us for a moment. “I always feel . . . good when you’re around.”
“I just want to make sure you stay safe,” I reply, looking down into her adorable face. “After all, this is a gentlemen’s club.”
Meghan chuckles and looks around. “Not too many gentlemen in this club. But I’m glad there’s at least one. Thanks again, Shane.”
My name on her lips is a tease that makes me want to taste her mouth as she says it again. But her friend comes out, and the two of them leave. Meghan gives me a little finger wave as the door closes. Oh, my sweet little innocent one . . . if only I were a gentleman.
If only.
I’m anything but, which is why it’s safer if you stay away from me.
Chapter 1
Maggie
“Hey, Marco! Can I get a pitcher of Miller Lite for table fifteen, please?” I yell over the throbbing bass of the music in the club . . . and get ignored again. “MARCO!”
He looks over and gives me a half-understanding nod before grabbing one of the plastic pitchers and filling it with . . . well, fudge it, it’s beer at least. I roll my eyes, frustrated that I have to drag the bartender’s eyes away from the stage. He’s been here for years, and you’d think he’d be immune to this after seeing dancers for hours five nights a week.
But he isn’t. Obviously, as evidenced by the way he’s staring at the stage. He moves a hand, and I think he’s going to adjust his crotch, but instead, his hand lifts to his head and he slicks his already meticulously coifed hair into place. In my head, I nag him. Adjust whatever you need to, your crotch or your hair or your suave designer clothes. Just do your dang job so I can do mine. Not too much to ask, is it?
“Here you go, Meghan,” he says, sliding the pitcher the last few inches to me. I notice that he doesn’t apologize that he’s ignored the order I placed on the bar five minutes ago, nor that the delay will likely affect my tip, not his. His eyes still haven’t left the show onstage either. Such a butt-nugget.
With a sigh, I turn to see what’s got Marco so blasted distracted at the moment. I know from the music that it’s Allie’s turn on stage. Besides being one of the people I can call a friend around here, she’s an amazing dancer, definitely too good to be stripping in a place like this. I watch as she spins around the pole, her legs splayed wide in the splits for several rotations as she flips her head around, making eyes at a guy in the front row.
In a flash, she pulls her legs in smoothly, locking them around the pole and lying back in a death-defying backbend move that puts her eye-level with her prey, although she’s upside-down and his eyes are locked on her boobs, not her face. I see her smirk and then kick her legs over, rising to stand tall in her high-heeled red stilettos. It’s impressive, even from just an athletic point of view, although I’m sure most of Allie’s fans aren’t really interested in how much she’s had to train and work for her unworldly strength, balance, and flexibility.
