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The line.
That was the first thing I saw when I turned into Dirty's parking lot. Thankfully, Shane had told me to park around back, ensuring I had a spot right next to his BMW. Following the rest of his instructions, I send a text to Lewis, the head of security for the club, and wait in my car for him to come out the back door and escort me inside.
I set my phone down and pop the visor down to look at my makeup. I put more effort into my makeup tonight than I ever have in my whole life. Shane doesn't care--I know that--and I probably could have shown up in my favorite Victoria's Secret sweats, and he'd still want me. However, this is a big night for him and for Dirty. I want my man to see me and be proud that his woman is there to cheer him on.
After refreshing my lip gloss, I make sure the dark eyeshadow I used to give my eyes a smoky look isn't all over the place, making me look more like a raccoon than seductress, and then focus on making sure my hair looks perfect. I took a while to curl my hair, giving my long blond hair just the perfect amount of body and volume with the carefully constructed waves. All in all, I look less like a schoolteacher and more like a girl-next-door-turned-Playboy-Bunny.
I look hot.
And I know Shane's going to eat it up and hopefully show me how much he loves it from his office while all those hussies that crave him are stuck with just the fantasy of him.
I smile at my reflection. I'm fully aware that it's not normal for a girlfriend to be excited to see her boyfriend basically stripping, but I've been a nervous ball of energy all day. I can't wait to see him dance tonight. There's just something about it that I find insanely hot. Even with all the other eyes focusing on the same man, he's all mine, and I've been drunk on that knowledge all day.
I catch a glimpse of Lewis stepping out from the back door of Dirty, talking into the little device that keeps all the security dudes in contact with each other. I give him a wave, take one last look at myself, and open the car door.
"Hey, Lewis," I greet, smiling at him while shifting to shut the door before pulling the hemline of my dress down. The indecently short little black dress is just inches away from being more of a tank top than a dress.
"Nikki."
"How is the night going?"
"Good."
"You don't talk much, do you, big guy?" I ask, hoping to crack the new staff member.
He grunts, looks me over from head to toe, and then turns to the side with one muscular arm outstretched pointing to the exit he just popped out of.
"That's okay," I continue. "I'm sure you have to learn to keep quiet and all with that little thingamabob picking up all your chatter and all."
I see him shake his head slightly as I start walking.
"How does that work anyway? You can't really hear much, I'd imagine, when you're inside and the music is blaring." He falls in step behind me, still silent. "They haven't started the dances, right?"
"Do you always talk this much?"
I lift my shoulder and smile over my shoulder at him. "Only when I'm excited or nervous."
"Which one?"
I frown at him. He looks less intimidating now that he seems actively engaged in a conversation. Even if he's just humoring my quirks.
"Which one, what?"
"Are you? Nervous or excited?" His blue eyes look so serious; his tone makes me think there's another question he isn't asking me, but instead of asking what that might be, I contemplate his question.
"Uh, both? Excited to see how Filthy does, but nervous that it might not be what I hope it will be for them."
He stops when we reach the door, holding his big palm out to stop me from opening it and leveling me with an expression so intense I don't even think about doing anything except stopping.
"I figured you would be nervous for another reason."
I puff of air comes out when I laugh. "Why? Because my sexy man is going to shake his moneymaker? Think about it, big guy. It's hot."
He opens his mouth but shuts it before saying anything.
"What? Don't stand there, keeping me from getting inside, if there's something you want to say."
"I don't know you well enough to say what I want to say."
"So?" I say with a shrug. "Just because you and I aren't close enough to go get mani-pedis doesn't mean that you can't share what's on your mind with me. If there's something I need to know, I would rather have it now then be caught off guard later."
I had only met him before in passing before a few times, but each time he had been a brick that basically showed no emotion. Heck, I wasn't even sure the guy had any feelings aside from hulking intensity. A handsome brick, but stoic as it gets. So when a huge toothy grin broke through that expressionless mask, I was shocked.
"I like you," he adds to his odd beam.
"Uh, thanks?"
"I've worked in a lot of places like this," he continues, ignoring my confusion. "One thing I've always seen is girlfriends who never last. You might be one of the few who do, though."
"Your confidence in my relationship is really something else," I drone.
"Nothing personal, blondie."
"What brought this up?"
One meaty shoulder goes up. "You know what's going on tonight. Shane's been in a mood all day, and I assumed it was because you were giving him a hard time about tonight."
I narrow my eyes. "Actually, this whole thing was my idea."
Clearly, he hadn't expected that because his whole face was full of some comedic level shock.
"No shit?"
I shake my head then look over at the hand still holding the door shut. "It's a good idea; don't be so shocked."
"Oh, I'm not shocked that the idea is good--it's gold. I'm shocked that you would willingly offer up your man dancing even more than he already does."
I wait for him to open the door then walk past him into the dim lit back hallway. Before walking any further, though, I turn to look over and up at the large man. "It took Shane a little while to catch on, but you should just accept now that I never do what is expected of me."
I start strutting off, the big guy laughing without reservation behind me.
When will the men around me finally realize I'm my own woman and not some stupid cookie-cutter mold of the generic model?
THE CHANGES TO THE CLUB were only glaringly obvious to those who'd been here often enough to know how things worked at Dirty. I knew, of course, about the stages they added. The new ones were a little lower than the bars they had been doing their hourly spotlight dances on for the past couple of years to ensure they could spice things up and get realllllly up close and personal. I had seen enough hotness in my past visits to know that before they could get closer to the ladies they were hot enough, so I was almost giddy to see how things would change.
A few men I didn't recognize walked around, all dressed in something similar to the dress shirt, slacks, and suspenders that Shane favors. It was another reason I was about to come alive with excitement--knowing that when I told Shane how hot it made me when he danced with suspenders, it became the unofficial uniform for Filthy night. A shiver races down my spine when I think about the sound those suspenders make when they're cracking against someone's skin.
I was so lost in my thoughts that when two hands grabbed my hips and pulled me back against a hard body, I screamed, making a few heads turn in my direction. Then the familiar scent of cologne and hard work hit my nose.
Shane.
Home.
"Scare you?"
I nod, my head moving against his shoulder. When his stubbled cheek rubs against mine, I shiver at the same time his lips press against my jaw. His hands move, arms wrapping around my belly, and I'm pressed even tighter. Something about his embrace makes a chill slice through me. And nothing's pleasant about that chill either.
"I thought you changed your mind about coming," he says, lips pressed against the sensitive skin under my ear. I press my hands against his forearms and rub, hoping to soothe whatever has him acting weird.
