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She’d done it.
All right, so maybe she hadn’t done it perfectly, but hell, she’d worked her thang until her ankles were sore. That had to count for something.
“You were a goddess up there.” Vicky slapped her on the back.
“Thanks. You weren’t bad yourself.”
They were back in the dressing room. Jill pulled her simple black dress back on over the corset and stockings while Vic went through a more elaborate primping session.
Since Vic had her handsome hubby-to-be waiting for her—really waiting if that I’m going to ravage you now look in his eyes meant anything—Jill planned to finish getting dressed and then go back out and find Bryan. Hopefully, the dress she’d put on would be coming back off in short order.
“Time to jet,” Vic said. “I’m about to go be a goddess behind closed doors.” She grabbed her tote bag and jogged to the door. “Thanks for helping out tonight. I’ll see you Monday. We have Ms. Travers coming in at nine sharp to redo her dining room, so don’t be late.”
If Jill had her way, she’d be coming into work after a weekend spent ravaging Bryan. Now she just had to go back out there and find him.
“Will do, boss lady. Try not to end up in traction. Your fiancé is looking mighty eager.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Vic’s grin could’ve powered an entire planet. She was so in love with her almost-husband that it would’ve been sickening if it hadn’t been so sweet. “No promises on the traction. I can always telecommute. Later, Jilly Bean.”
Jill sighed. More Jilly Bean. She had to admit the endearing way Vic said it was better than Bryan’s patronizing version. Well, soon that nickname would be a thing of the past.
She shuffled over to the mirror in Triple Threat’s miniscule dressing room and leaned in to slather gloss on her lips to replace the lipstick that had worn off. Which brought back a vivid memory of Bryan fisting her hair as he drove his tongue deep inside her mouth. If she pressed her thighs together, she could still feel the imprint of his thumbs. His chest crushing hers, driving the hard points of her breasts into firm muscle.
On cue, her nipples stiffened. Hold on, breasts. We have to find him first.
No sign of him on the floor of the club, though. Had he gone back outside? Oh crap. Had he left?
She hitched her bag on her shoulder and slipped into the dark hallway that led to the side door. She shoved it open and sucked in a deep breath of the still, warm air, her inhalation turning to a choked scream as a hulking figure materialized out of the darkness.
A dark figure with Bryan’s sandalwood citrus aftershave and sinful mouth.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Her pulse spiked to cardiac-event levels at the sound of his sexy rasp. Be cool. He’d come after her strong when she gave him something to chase earlier. If coy was what he wanted, coy was what he’d get.
“Home,” she said. “Mind?”
“Yes, I mind. Thought you were going to sashay around that stage then just disappear, huh?” He braced a hand on the doorjamb above her head. “Not to mention, you shouldn’t be out here alone after that.”
Hmm, he sounded kind of pissed. She’d hoped for some reaction from him—pain below the waist fit the bill nicely—but she hadn’t expected anything beyond mild annoyance.
“That?” She let the door thunk shut as she took a defiant step forward. “You mean my perfectly acceptable dance routine?”
“Right. Add in what you’re wearing right now and you’ll see why I’d rather you not walk around unaccompanied.”
She glanced down at her little black dress. The hem of the dress covered the lacy tops of her fishnet stockings. Mostly. “I’m decently dressed.”
“I know what you have on under there.” He yanked her close and spoke against her hair, his cinnamon-scented breath flaring hot over her cheek. “That tiny corset that barely contains your tits and ass. I can feel one of those cock-teasing bows underneath my hand.” Proving it, he flattened his palm on her hip.
“The bows are ornamentation. Not to tease easily engorged members.” She ducked under his arm and kept walking. She’d just pretend she wasn’t the least bit fazed by him talking about her tits when she couldn’t stop thinking about him sucking on her lips.
Yes, lips. She wasn’t imagining anything involving the above-mentioned tits. Nope. All above-the-neck action.
He stalked behind her, quiet but deadly. Even his silence was intimidating.
“I performed in a show with several other ladies. It was good clean fun,” she said, behooved to defend her actions, though they required no defending. “No one revealed asses or breasts.”
“Tell that to the guy in the front row who left a drool stain on your top.”
