Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Really, we can’t do this here! What if someone sees us?” The men are all grinning and looking very satisfied with themselves as I redirect our attention to Barnes, clearing my throat and trying hard to sound like my world has not just been rocked off its axis. “So what do you think of this guy? Do you think your home would be a good fit for him?”
Diesel bends down to scratch under the dog’s ear, and Barnes visibly melts, falling down on his side as if he’s gone boneless, and then rolling onto his back to offer up his belly.
I know exactly how he feels.
“I think we’d all be very happy together,” Chase says meaningfully.
“Would you like to take a look at any of the other dogs here?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, we know exactly what we want.”
Unable to meet his eyes, and also unable to miss the double meaning in his words, I focus on Barnes, hooking the leash back onto his collar and telling him what a good boy he is. When I stand, I say, “Lisa can go over details with you at the front office,” and lead the men back to Barnes’s enclosure. They tell Barnes they’ll see him soon, and I walk them to the door of the kennel, point out the path that leads to the front building, and thank them for coming.
They’re still grinning hard, like they know they’ve thrown me off balance — and I’m sure it’s very obvious — but they say their goodbyes with no more kissing. After watching them walk away, and admiring their back views because I can’t stop myself, I lean against the wall that’s just inside the kennel and finally catch my breath.
Dangerous. So very dangerous.
I can’t believe the effect they have on me, and how much they’ve been on my mind ever since I met them, even though I know that nothing further can happen with them.
But those kisses.
And those looks.
No one has ever made me feel like they do, and all we’ve shared are brief stolen kisses. What would it be like to spend time alone with them? A pulse between my legs answers my silent question, and I shift my weight from one leg to another.
I can’t think about any of that, because my parents would have a fit if they knew I was just even talking to the men, much less kissing them.
The dogs in the kennel have mostly gone quiet after reacting to the five of us walking by earlier, but now a plaintive howl sounds from halfway down the building. Unmistakably Barnes. I know how you feel, buddy.
They’ve only just left, and I miss them already. I still feel the memory of their kisses on my lips, and I’m frustrated because I want more. But why shouldn’t I have more of them? I’m a grown woman, so why am I making decisions based on my family’s expectations?
The Stanton brothers seem like good people; why should they be judged for the work they do? And furthermore, why should I keep resisting seeing their show?
9
Strip club virgins
“I shouldn’t have worn this,” I say, stretching my shoulders after getting out of the car, feeling like a mummy wrapped tightly for the afterlife.
“It looks great on you, Jade,” Becca says. “Really.”
I don’t know about that, but at least my hair looks good. I spent some time getting it into soft waves, and they turned out nicely, but the black dress is at least one size too small. It’s one of those items of clothing I’ve kept, telling myself I’d fit into it again someday, when I should have just donated it to a charity resale shop when it got to be too tight. I was wearing pants and a loose-fitting shirt when Becca came over to pick me up, and she insisted I needed to wear something sexier to the club.
The nervousness I feel is no doubt adding to my discomfort. I’m excited about tonight, but also wary, and I’m second guessing my decision to come every few minutes.
My friend and I join the flow of people entering Club Red. The crowd is, of course, at least ninety percent women, but there are some men in the mix. There’s a massive security guard at the door who checks our IDs, and a woman at the reception desk who takes our money.
Was it really only two days ago that I met the brothers at this very spot? It didn’t take them long to convince me to come to their show, even when I originally thought there was zero possibility I’d ever be here for anything other than delivering bakery.
“Have you ever been to a place like this?” I ask Becca as we follow the flow of people down a hall and into a large, dimly-lit room. There’s a long bar along the back wall, several high-top tables in front of it, and a big open area leading up to the stage.