Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 614(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 614(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
A clearing of a throat had him twisting his neck to glance toward the dressing room’s doorway.
The blonde that he’d wanted to talk to, the one who had fucking disappeared before he got that chance, the one who oozed confidence and not desperation, stood just inside the door.
Holy shit.
“I was just checking to make sure everyone left.”
Or was she coming to find him? Could this be a sign? His lucky night?
Whether it was or wasn’t… “I don’t think they allow customers back here.”
“They don’t.” When she smiled, he was distracted by the little sexy mole above her upper lip. “I’m not a customer.”
“Then who are you? A dancer?” Maybe that was why she’d hadn’t gone wild like the rest of the women.
When she didn’t answer, he asked, “The owner?” knowing full well that the Demons now owned the club. But he was testing to see if she’d mention it. If she had inside information, whoever she was.
She shook her head and one side of her blood-red lips pulled up. “The club manager.”
Chapter Five
Mel took a step farther into the room. She hadn’t expected any of the male strippers to still be around. She had waited until the rest of her skeleton crew left before making sure all doors were locked and lights were off, starting at the front entrance and working her way into the backstage area.
On her way out to the rear parking lot, she decided to peek her head into the dressing room since she expected it to be a disaster area like it was at closing almost every damn night. When it was, she tended to come in a little earlier than normal to put it back together. But surprisingly, the guys left less of a mess than the women usually did.
Once a dancer was done with her shift, she didn’t waste any time hightailing it home. To her significant other, to her kids, to her family. Most of the women the club employed had families to support. Others were college students with classes the next morning.
And some, like with any other industry, simply hated their job. The ladies only danced because it was one way to make decent money as long as they knew what they were doing and at least acted like they enjoyed it.
In the end, stripping was a job just like any other. To be successful, you needed to have talent and know how to work your audience.
She was just as surprised to find the redheaded dancer nicknamed Blaze still in the dressing room as he was to see her. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was on my way to lock up and leave. I didn’t realize anyone was still back here.”
“You didn’t startle me.” His head tilted slightly as he slowly and thoroughly slid his gaze from her hair to her red stilettos.
Those shoes were another reason why she was anxious to leave. She couldn’t wait to kick off her toe-pinching high heels. She’d do that as soon as she climbed into her SUV.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from closing up. I wanted to clean up before I left.” Even though he said those words, he made no effort to leave.
“You’re not.” Or at least he hadn’t delayed her. Until now, anyway.
She didn’t want to be rude but since she didn’t know him, she wasn’t sure if she could trust being alone with him. She kept a healthy distrust of all men until they proved that they could otherwise be trusted. When working at a strip club, while most of the clientele were nice, some were unhinged. They’d dealt with stalkers too many times. That was one reason, when the club was open and dancers were coming and going, they had security. At least before the Demons took over. She released a soft sigh over that whole situation.
“But I would like to get going soon since this is normally my night off.” Maybe mentioning that would get him moving.
His brow furrowed. “If it’s your night off, why are you here?”
She shrugged. “Basically, I was told to be here. And honestly, watching you guys dance tonight was a nice perk.” Especially since she’d be paid to be here, instead of paying to be here, like the rest of the patrons.
At first she had been annoyed when was ordered to open the club on a night they were normally closed, but since every man in the Peckers All-Male Revue had been hot as all get-out, it ended up not being such a hardship.
She studied the man before her. Blaze. His stripper name fit him perfectly. He was so hot he had lit the club on fire.
“Do you normally drink while you work?”
Well, that was an odd and unexpected question. Why would he care? “Not usually. Tonight I decided to enjoy both myself and the show since I was only here to oversee the staff who volunteered to work overtime. It was nice to take advantage of my bartender’s mad skills at mixing a mean margarita. I rarely do.”