Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Emma’s jaw dropped, and she stepped back so quickly she teetered precariously in her heels. Before she could catch her balance, two large hands grabbed her arms and she was yanked upright hard enough to cause whiplash.
“What the fuck?” he bellowed, making her wince. “What the fuck you doin’ here?”
His gaze raked her from head to toe and Emma struggled to hide the shiver that skittered down her spine.
That shiver wasn’t from fear because, goodness gracious, she couldn’t help but do the same to him. He was a big guy, that was for sure. And this time, he was practically naked. Maybe not quite naked. But close enough, since he only had a pair of unfastened jeans hanging off his hips like they had been pulled on in haste.
His dark blond hair was mussed, his narrowed emerald green eyes dark, and he wore no shirt.
None at all.
Holy moly.
Never in her life had she seen a human being with so many tattoos.
So. Many. Tattoos.
Down his sculpted arms, over his muscular chest and belly, and she could even see one peeking from the opening in his jeans. And he clearly wore no underwear because she noticed there was no end to the dark line of hair that went from his belly button all the way south.
Her gaze traced the line of an erection that was hard to miss under his denim. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she dropped her eyes quickly, only to have it land on his bare feet.
Lord, he had good looking feet.
She shook herself mentally at that thought and her gaze shot back up, but not before hesitating for a split second on that V where his jeans hung open. She silently scolded herself, then met his eyes.
He was grinning. Even with that thick beard that was darker than his hair covering his face, he was a good-looking man.
“Like what you see?’
“I... uh...” Yes! “No!”
His smile widened. “Bullshit. Whataya here for?”
She peeked over his shoulder into the dimly lit apartment. “Umm... Can I come in?”
He blinked. “For what?”
“I need to talk to you.”
One of his eyebrows cocked. “Got nothin’ to talk about.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Begged earlier. Didn’t work. Ain’t gonna work now.”
She bit her bottom lip but released it as soon as his eyes focused on that and his smile disappeared.
Without warning, he reached out and brushed his thumb gently over her bottom lip which caused her heart to thump wildly.
He murmured, “That right there, baby girl...” His hand suddenly dropped, and he stepped back, his voice becoming colder. “That right there’s enough to get me in trouble. What do you want?”
“A second chance.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked as he studied her. “You failed—”
“I know. I know! I didn’t realize that—”
“Strippin’s an art? Not everyone’s got the skill to do it?”
“I can do it, I swear!”
His hands settled on his hips as his head dropped back and he stared up at the door frame above him. He blew out a noisy breath.
She was pushing his patience. She knew that. But she wasn’t leaving. Not until she did what she came to do. “Please... Let me audition again... or give you another lap dance. I... I practiced.”
His head dropped forward to stare down at her. “You practiced.”
“Yes!”
“You watch a lap dance how-to video?”
Emma grimaced. “No.”
His lips twitched. “Don’t even know you an’ can tell you’re lyin’.”
What? How was that possible? “Okay, I watched a couple.”
He snorted and tilted his head, his green eyes pinning her in place. “Just a couple?”
She hesitated and then thought maybe being honest with him might get her in the door. “Okay, more than a couple.”
His gaze dropped to where the open buttons of her blouse ended right before the top of her bra. He jerked his chin at her. “Where’d you get those clothes?”
“My closet.”
“When’s the last time you wore ‘em?”
“I don’t know.”
He ran his gaze slowly down her body and back up, then took a step back and lifted a hand to invite her in. “Shouldn’t be doin’ this up here. Should be doin’ it downstairs where I ain’t gonna get accused of nothin’.” He turned and took a few steps deeper into his apartment. “Musta lost my damn mind. Hurry up before all the A/C escapes.”
Emma rushed inside before Dawg changed his “damn mind” and she closed the door behind her. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“Would if you actually told me what the fuck’s goin’ on an’ why you’re so desperate.”
Her problem was on a need-to-know basis. And there was no reason for this strip club manager to know. “You just need to know I’m serious about this.”
“Apparently. Comin’ up to a stranger’s apartment to strip an’ do a lap dance. Think you lost your damn mind, too.”
She definitely lost something, and she was determined to get it back.