Tyler on the other. I give the nod to split up. The farther we fan out, the better chance we got at locking this asshole down.
“Can I watch the show?” Lennon asks me once the guys walk away. Stopping at a table dead in the center of the bar, she grabs the back of a chair, ready to plant her ass in it. As much as I’d get a kick out of watching Lennon watch the show, I’m here for business.
“As long as you don’t get yourself in trouble.” And I should probably add, “And stay the fuck off of the stage.” Lennon’s just the type of woman who needs that sorta rule enforced. She snorts a laugh and rolls her eyes, but there’s a little guilt on her face. “Not playing, darlin’.”
She’s completely unfazed. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”
“No need to think about it, just don’t do it.” Some guys might be cool with their chicks working the pole, but I’m not one of those guys. My woman is my woman. Now Lennon might not be my woman, but by default she’s my responsibility, therefore no one sees her naked.
Smiling up at me, she does a little shimmy, shaking her ass as she plants it in the old chair. “Lennon,” I warn. I have a feeling she’s gonna do whatever the hell it is that she wants to do.
“Gotcha, big guy.”
Weaving through bodies, I’m on alert with my eyes going everywhere. Anyone wearing a cut outside of ours is getting a fucking shakedown.
Lennon
I don’t particularly enjoy naked women, but I also don’t hate them either. I’m pretty indifferent with the whole thing, but the way the bottle blonde is working the pole, it’s hard not to watch. It’s a craft, and she has clearly mastered it.
‘Bubble Butt’ plays through the room and she’s got my attention. Upside down, she slides down the pole, all while shaking her ass to the beat. Reaching the bottom, she tosses her legs out and puts them on the ground in some torturous back bend before letting the pole go and falling into an impressive split. She’s definitely earing her money tonight.
I’m not even sure talent describes it. It’s more like some black magic shit.
Sitting in the middle of the room, I watch Buck wade through the crowd, over to Rock. They lean against a wall and start to talk with their heads close together. I don’t have the slightest idea what they’re talking about, but they both look pissed. Buck’s scowling hard and Rock is glaring around the room as he listens to Buck.
Where Buck is harsh and manly, Rock is more handsome and put together, in a weird way. He’s dark-haired with dark features. He’s taller than Buck, but not as bulky. He’s more athletic in build.
Rock is handsome, anyone with eyes can see it, but Buck is something entirely different.
Twenty minutes later, watching the dancers on stage, I lose track of Buck. Sitting at my table, I sip my Bud and observe. The Love Lounge is bustling. Tables are full and bar stools are occupied with a constant rotation of asses. The music is deafening, but you couldn’t hold a conversation here.
I’m starting to get bored and that’s never good.
I decide to walk around the tables, making my way to the far side of the club when a man stands up too quick and I bump right into his back. I stumble a little before the man turns to look at me. Narrowing his eyes, he sneers, “Watch it, little girl.”
The jerk-off is wearing a plain leather vest. I can’t call it a cut since it’s missing its patches. I’m not sure if he’s a biker, but really, it makes no damn difference to me.
“It was just an accident.” Jesus, there’s no need to pop a blood vessel over it.
“Made me spill my beer, bitch,” he growls before turning his back on me. Now he’s calling me names. Sometimes my brain is quicker than my mouth, but unfortunately today is not that day.
“Fuckin’ asshole,” I grumble back, stepping away from him.
“What’d you say, bitch?” The lumberjack asks, turning slowly back towards me. It really might be the three
“Can I watch the show?” Lennon asks me once the guys walk away. Stopping at a table dead in the center of the bar, she grabs the back of a chair, ready to plant her ass in it. As much as I’d get a kick out of watching Lennon watch the show, I’m here for business.
“As long as you don’t get yourself in trouble.” And I should probably add, “And stay the fuck off of the stage.” Lennon’s just the type of woman who needs that sorta rule enforced. She snorts a laugh and rolls her eyes, but there’s a little guilt on her face. “Not playing, darlin’.”
She’s completely unfazed. “Yeah, I think I can do that.”
“No need to think about it, just don’t do it.” Some guys might be cool with their chicks working the pole, but I’m not one of those guys. My woman is my woman. Now Lennon might not be my woman, but by default she’s my responsibility, therefore no one sees her naked.
Smiling up at me, she does a little shimmy, shaking her ass as she plants it in the old chair. “Lennon,” I warn. I have a feeling she’s gonna do whatever the hell it is that she wants to do.
“Gotcha, big guy.”
Weaving through bodies, I’m on alert with my eyes going everywhere. Anyone wearing a cut outside of ours is getting a fucking shakedown.
Lennon
I don’t particularly enjoy naked women, but I also don’t hate them either. I’m pretty indifferent with the whole thing, but the way the bottle blonde is working the pole, it’s hard not to watch. It’s a craft, and she has clearly mastered it.
‘Bubble Butt’ plays through the room and she’s got my attention. Upside down, she slides down the pole, all while shaking her ass to the beat. Reaching the bottom, she tosses her legs out and puts them on the ground in some torturous back bend before letting the pole go and falling into an impressive split. She’s definitely earing her money tonight.
I’m not even sure talent describes it. It’s more like some black magic shit.
Sitting in the middle of the room, I watch Buck wade through the crowd, over to Rock. They lean against a wall and start to talk with their heads close together. I don’t have the slightest idea what they’re talking about, but they both look pissed. Buck’s scowling hard and Rock is glaring around the room as he listens to Buck.
Where Buck is harsh and manly, Rock is more handsome and put together, in a weird way. He’s dark-haired with dark features. He’s taller than Buck, but not as bulky. He’s more athletic in build.
Rock is handsome, anyone with eyes can see it, but Buck is something entirely different.
Twenty minutes later, watching the dancers on stage, I lose track of Buck. Sitting at my table, I sip my Bud and observe. The Love Lounge is bustling. Tables are full and bar stools are occupied with a constant rotation of asses. The music is deafening, but you couldn’t hold a conversation here.
I’m starting to get bored and that’s never good.
I decide to walk around the tables, making my way to the far side of the club when a man stands up too quick and I bump right into his back. I stumble a little before the man turns to look at me. Narrowing his eyes, he sneers, “Watch it, little girl.”
The jerk-off is wearing a plain leather vest. I can’t call it a cut since it’s missing its patches. I’m not sure if he’s a biker, but really, it makes no damn difference to me.
“It was just an accident.” Jesus, there’s no need to pop a blood vessel over it.
“Made me spill my beer, bitch,” he growls before turning his back on me. Now he’s calling me names. Sometimes my brain is quicker than my mouth, but unfortunately today is not that day.
“Fuckin’ asshole,” I grumble back, stepping away from him.
“What’d you say, bitch?” The lumberjack asks, turning slowly back towards me. It really might be the three
Similar Books
