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What in the hell was going on out there? I glanced at the thick wooden door that normally muffled the noise from the club and allowed me a modicum of peace and quiet whenever I came here. Of course now I was regretting it and wishing I'd stayed at the clubhouse for the day.
Or at least gone to the poker club instead of the strip joint my club counted among its many businesses. Some more legit than others. Not everyone in the small town of Sultan, Washington considered this place respectable, but it was completely above board and one hundred percent legal.
"Take all of it off!" the crowd outside roared, making me gnash my teeth at the ever growing pounding in my head. There should have been some relief by now, but it was getting worse instead. I slapped my hands on my desk and pushed to my feet. I'd had enough. It sounded suspiciously like a frat party out there and something my security staff should have taken care of by now.
I swallowed down the last of my drink and slammed it onto the desk as well. There was going to be hell to pay. I was already in a foul mood today, the last thing I needed were some spoiled Seattleites making their way to the mountains for a little party time and acting like illiterate assholes in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon.
There were no windows in this office, but I trusted my body clock to know the sun had yet to set. Despite the shorter days at this time of year, I had a couple of hours of daylight left.
I yanked open the door, letting my eyes adjust to the dimly lit club. There were no windows anywhere in this building and that was all done by design. Just like at a casino, we wanted our patrons to stay and spend for as long as they could, so buildings like these were made without clocks or windows that could distract.
Not that every Tom, Dick and Harry didn't have a fucking cell phone in his pocket that could tell him anything he wanted, including the time. I'd tried to ban them in our clubs, which worked in the early years, but now everyone relied on them too much. So our cell phone policy had relaxed, but there were still strict rules against photos or videos inside any of my businesses.
Besides, when our customers were busy soaking in the views here or staring at their cards at our poker club, they were not picking up their phones and checking the time. They had better things to focus on.
My girls understood this as part of their job and they were damned good at it. And I took pride in each and every one of them. Not to mention they were paid well above the going rate for adult dancers.
I didn't care jack all what the general public thought of our establishments, but our customers understood they were getting quality here compared to other places and that mattered. And demanded higher prices.
When I finally made it close enough, getting my first look at the stage area and made out the crowd, I gnashed my teeth even harder. What the actual living fuck?
It wasn't a group of college kids freaking out over a beautiful naked woman. Nor was it any tourists at all. It was my fucking guys. My. Fucking. Guys.
What the hell was going on?
I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before returning my attention in the direction of my brothers. We'd had some hard months lately and I knew the upcoming weeks would not go by any better. So they certainly deserved to blow off steam in any way they saw fit. Especially if they weren't causing me any real trouble.
But I had the mother of all fucking headaches…
Also, I couldn't remember the last time they'd reacted to a dancer like this. This one must have a magic pussy hiding in her G-string or something equally enchanting.
I strained to see what woman was on the stage getting them so worked up. These guys weren't new. They had naked women in their faces more often than most. Unfortunately, my guys were big and they formed a wall around the stage that made it impossible for me to see this mystery dancer. But from the way they whooped and hollered, I wondered if we'd taken on someone new that I hadn't yet met.
New hires were usually screened by me and Tel before they were allowed on stage, but lately we'd been too busy to give this place much attention. I'd gotten lenient with the manager and his duties. It was time to rectify that situation. Marching over towards the group, I tapped one of the waitresses on the shoulder.
"Hey, boss," she turned and greeted me with a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Can I get you something from the bar?" I racked my brain for a minute to recall her name. Normally I was great with names and faces, but even I had to admit that I'd been--we'd all been stretched thin lately.
Heather. It finally came to me. Nice girl. Single mother. Asshole of a baby daddy. A situation I'd filed away to revisit later. I made a mental note to have Tel do some checking. A well visit per se. I didn't normally judge too hard or get too involved in my employee's lives, but her man was a real piece of shit and I didn't trust him.
"Yeah. I'll take a bourbon. Neat." Considering I'd finished my last one in the office and it didn't look like I'd be making it back in there any time soon, I might as well.
"Coming right up," she said, another soft smile crossing her face. Only this time when she turned, one of the spotlights from the stage hit her face at just the right angle, allowing me to catch a shadow around her left eye that shouldn't have been there.
My muscles tightened and my anger coiled in my chest like a snake ready to strike. I started to reach for her, only barely managing to catch myself before jerking her back by her wrist. The last thing I needed to do was make a scene for Heather in front of the entire club.
We were all stressed and on edge. If they overheard a confrontation, they'd want blood. And considering how much of that had been spilled as of late, it was time to take a rest. I'd take care of Heather and her situation later in private.
As if on cue, a couple of my guys shifted and a gap opened allowing me a perfect view of the woman on stage, ass first and high in the air. My dick jerked to immediate attention and a heavy pressure constricted around my chest. She had the perfect round, plump peach of an ass and I suddenly wanted to take a bite.
As was standard for dancer's attire, the thong she wore hid pretty much nothing. The idea that a little strip of fabric up a woman's slit provided coverage was laughable. As she worked down the pole, continuing to push her ass in my direction, my attention remained glued to her every move.
She jiggled and jumped that perfect piece of her anatomy in time with the music until my heart beat as erratically as the song. And I followed along every move as she must have intended. From the firm line of her thick thighs to the shapely calves and my freaking god were those six-inch heels?
I was ready to jump out of my skin or jump on that stage to interrupt when Heather returned with my drink.
"Can I get you anything else? Some food perhaps?" My stomach rumbled at the suggestion, but my gaze didn't waver from the woman on stage. I shook my head, and I'm pretty sure I heard Heather snort.
"Who is that?" I asked, hoping conversation might drag my attention away from the show.
