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Shit. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped.
When he couldn’t stall any longer, he strolled out of the shadows and onto the main floor of the club. Dead center, he spotted a table full of men he recognized. In the middle of them sat Cory, with what appeared to be a cardboard crown on his head and a patently bored expression on his face.
“Gentlemen,” Bryan said, bumping fists with his old friend Dillon. Dillon’s tattoos were on display, thanks to the ragged wife-beater he wore. Considering his jeans were also ripped to hell, that probably meant Dillon had come right from one of the Helping Hands houses he helped to build. “Interesting choice of venue.”
“Not my idea.” Cory, decked out in a dark suit sans tie, rose and extended a hand. A heavy gold watch encircled his wrist. Classy money, that was Cory. “Nice to see you, Bryan. Victoria mentioned you might be making a surprise appearance.”
Dillon coughed behind his hand as he dropped back into his seat. “If this is your idea of a surprise, dude, you may be the one getting surprised. Just a heads up.”
Both Cory and Bryan shot Dillon a look. “What is that supposed to mean?” Bryan asked.
“What he said,” Cory echoed. “You said there would be some sort of cabaret show.”
“Cabaret. Right.” Dillon’s lips twitched.
Okay, so perhaps the cabaret was out.
After exchanging greetings with the other guys, he grabbed a seat next to Dillon and spoke in an undertone. “All right, school me. What am I about to see?”
Dill toyed with his beer. “You heard the man. Cabaret.”
“What kind of cabaret? Naked? It’s the guy’s bachelor party. I highly doubt you planned a night of show tunes and tapping feet.” And then there was the presence of Jill. He highly doubted she’d taken up the role of set designer.
“Put it this way.” Dillon shifted closer. “You’ll be getting a whole new view of your sister before the night’s through. Uh, make that both of your sisters.”
Yeah, just as he’d figured. “Vic isn’t allowed at Cory’s bachelor party. It’s not done.”
“You know our ladies defy convention.” Dillon grinned as the house lights dimmed and a spotlight shone on the stage. “I suggest you start peeking through your fingers right about…now.”
The curtain opened with a swish. Sexy sax music swelled, nearly drowned out by the hooting and hollering of everyone in attendance. Except Bryan and Cory. Cory still looked bored, his gaze drifting to the exit more than once.
Until Vic appeared beneath the spotlight, clad in a purple corset and ruffled skirt-like thing. In one hand, she gripped what looked like a riding crop, which she slapped hard against the floor before snapping her fingers and summoning her equally scantily clad fellow dancers.
Also known as his sister Melinda, Dillon’s girlfriend Alexa, Jake’s wife Nellie…
And Jill.
Freaking Jill, who wore a pink gown that descended to her ankles. Which meant she would likely strip down to her underwear in five seconds flat.
He was wrong. It took three.
The women turned their backs to the crowd. All except for Jill, who lost her pink dress and revealed a pink-and-black concoction that pressed her breasts up high and showed off her legs. Her spiked heels made them seem ten feet long.
Then she bent and stuck her butt in the air, circling it provocatively while the other girls began to do the same. They were all showing way too much skin, much to the crowd’s enthusiastic approval.
He supposed he deserved this torture. Leaving her high and dry after that incredible kiss hadn’t been considerate, but he’d been trying to be honorable by backing away while he still could.
Staring at the stage, he shook his head. So much for trying to do the right thing. Instead, he’d revved her up and unleashed her on this crowd of hormonally-challenged horn-dogs.
At least Jake seemed ready to knock a couple of skulls together, too. He had the arm of his chair in what looked like an iron hold. And Cory…if his jaw got any tighter, he’d crack a filling.
Their women were putting them through the paces tonight. And for as long as it took him to protect her from the bunch of creeps who were ogling her, Jill was his.
The dancers scattered across the stage, taking their positions as the music shifted from some seductive jazz number to hip hop. Still moving sensuously, they sang along with “Shoop” by Salt ’n Pepa, a classic jam about women on the prowl for men.
Better and better.
As the music reached the climax—ha—Jill leaned forward and shook everything her mama gave her into the face of a guy in front. Not that he seemed to mind. When he made a grab, she laughed, darting away with an ass wiggle that made Bryan’s balls throb.
