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His spine stiffened. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read.”
But she didn’t appear to be listening. “In fact, I consider that a bonus. You won’t fumble around like you’ve never seen a—”
He brushed his hips against her, unable to resist one more tease. Christ, the V-neck of her dress ended practically at her navel. With the moonlight spilling over her skin, he could make out the alluring shadows between those forbidden swells that pushed against her dress. “A what, baby? If you want to claim it, you can name it.”
She shoved him back. “If you want to hear me dirty talk, you better give me a good reason.”
Her words poured a welcome bucket of cold water on his libido. “Vic’s getting married. I’m in town just long enough to watch it happen. Two weeks from now, I’m outta here.”
“I get it. You think I can’t be discreet or deal with things how they are. Naturally I’d want a lifetime commitment from you, not a ride.”
So much for her being sweet and innocent. He searched for his voice. “Did you just say a ride?”
Shaking her head, she brushed him aside. “I never figured you for a coward, Townsend.”
“I’m no fucking coward.” Indignation reared its head, nearly stifling the demands of his other, more southerly one. Then she shifted, jiggling her tits again, and his dick renewed its very valid case. “Here I am, trying to do the honorable thing, and you—”
“Save it. I hear you, loud and clear.” She flashed him a thin smile over her shoulder and started sashaying back toward the club. “Enjoy the show, Bry.”
He was still staring after her fine-as-hell ass, trying to figure out how everything had gone so wrong, when her statement finally sunk in.
What show?
Cursing under his breath, he headed inside to find out.
Chapter Two
Jill marched down the hall to the dressing room, her mind filled with one idea and one idea only.
To show Bryan Townsend what he was missing.
She wasn’t even worried about tripping and breaking a limb or potential humiliation anymore. So what that she didn’t have any inherent rhythm? Fake it till you make it was a legit motto for a reason. She’d just fake her butt off. And her breasts. The unstoppable combo that always worked to cover up her flaws.
At the sound of uproarious female laughter inside the dressing room, she inhaled a deep breath and knocked. Guess everyone had arrived while she’d been outside getting handsy with Bryan. “Hey guys.”
Vicky threw open the door, already wearing her sexy, sparkly costume. “Jilly Bean? You’re still here? Does this mean I get to chamber that round of ass-kicking I was saving for you?”
Sheesh, not that Jilly Bean stuff again. Twice in one night. “We came here to dance,” she said in her cheeriest voice¸ pushing past her best friend into madness. “So let’s dance.”
Three other women—Jake’s wife Nellie, Dillon’s girlfriend Lex, and Vic’s sister Melinda—were crammed into the small space, each of them primping and spraying perfume and laughing as if they were having a grand time.
Jill plastered a smile on her face and tried to ignore that her lips were still numb from Bryan’s ridiculously masterful kiss. He was no boy, that one. Bryan was one-hundred-percent all man. She’d known that from the kiss he’d laid on her years ago, but tonight had just added that extra bit of punctuation.
Now she was going to show him she was all woman. She just wouldn’t think about the forty or so other guys she’d be showing as well.
“Hold up. You were angling to bail. Now you’re excited to strip?” Vic grabbed Jill’s shoulder and spun her around. “What changed in the last fifteen minutes?”
“Is that all it’s been?” Amazing how a girl’s life could go from ho-hum to I-could-come in such a short span of time. Theoretically, anyway, since Bryan had failed to deliver. But he’d definitely primed the pump. Just imagining his thumbs on her inner thighs was enough to cause some serious dampening.
“Give or take.” Vic picked up the lone remaining costume, a pink-and-black fluffy thing that showed off a ton of boob action and included a pair of fishnet stockings, handily revealed by the mid-thigh-length skirt. “This is all that’s left. Nellie went with the other one.” Vic’s lifted eyebrow said succinctly, told you so.
Jill nodded bravely. “I’ll take it.”
“This goes on top of it.” Vic produced a pink gauzy length of material and thrust it into Jill’s hands. “You strip this off shortly into the routine. A pair of cheapie stiletto heels are over there for you.”
“I can’t wear my own shoes?” Jill glanced down at her chunky heels and sighed. No, probably not.
“With that outfit, no. Fishnets and stilettos go together like peanut-butter and pickles.” At Melinda’s groan, Vic shrugged. “I had some last night and they were perfectly delicious.” She turned her attention back to Jill. “You remember the moves, right?”
