Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
If they think they can torment me by showing me their bodies, well, two can play that game, though I won’t be nearly as blatant about it as they were.
When the show is over and the men are posing for pictures, getting their waistbands stuffed with tips, I slip off to the backstage restroom. At the mirror, I let my hair down, loosening the waves that have been tied back all day. I reapply my dark red lipstick, which is appropriately called Man Killer, and then I reach under my shirt to remove my bra, folding it into my purse when it’s off.
I had a sweater on earlier, but it was hot in the packed club, so now there’s only a thin pink shirt covering my breasts. Despite the heat, my nipples are hard, but I’ll deny that has anything to do with the show I just watched.
I hear Jordan’s loud mouth out in the hall. The men must be done and returning to their dressing room. I give them half a minute before I burst in unannounced, not caring what state of undress I catch them in.
“The van is leaving in ten minutes, gentlemen. If you’re not on board, you’ll have to find a way to the hotel on your own.”
When they start to grumble, I stand up straighter, pushing my hair back behind my shoulders. Jordan literally stops talking mid-sentence when he spots my tits poking into my shirt. The look on his face is priceless. All four of them are staring, not even trying to be subtle. Silly men.
For good measure, I arch my back and put my hands on my hips, a posture that stretches my shirt tight across my chest.
“Close your mouth and get dressed,” I tell them before I turn and leave.
ENEMY 2
11
BRITTANY
I used to always phone my sister when I wanted to get in touch with her. She was married to a loser for far too many years, and not that long ago, she went through a divorce. I preferred to hear her voice so that I could gauge how she was doing.
These days, however, she’s often out of breath when she answers my calls. Sometimes she makes a lame excuse about how I caught her in the middle of exercising, but we both know what kind of workouts she’s getting, and we know damn well that the four men she now lives with are involved. They’re also directly involved in her much-improved happiness levels, though, so I’m definitely not complaining, but I usually opt to text her now rather than call.
Me: “I’m checking in from the road. How are you?”
It’s mid-morning, so I get a response back from Lorraine fairly quickly. “I’m great. How’s the tour going so far?”
“First leg is done. Despite all of the aggravations, I’m going to call it a success.”
“Aggravations?” she asks.
“The men have been every bit as irritating as I expected, but I’m keeping them in line fairly well. I even managed to stun them into silence, at least for a minute or two.”
“I’m afraid to ask what you mean by that.”
“I’ll tell you about it sometime when I see you,” I say, imagining she might get a laugh hearing about my braless payback.
“Hope your next show goes great. The guys send their best.”
“Tell them I said hello.” She’s lucky; she found good men, a nearly impossible feat. She deserves some good luck after all the years wasted with her ex.
After setting my phone aside, I close my eyes for a few minutes and realize the men here with me on the tour bus have been much quieter than they were yesterday. Ever since they first saw me this morning, their eyes keep going to my chest, even though I’m wearing a bra and a sweater today.
Despite the trouble they’re giving me, this job is much better than working at the grocery store, and even better than working the front desk at the club.
Scenery rolls by, and it’s so stimulating. I love getting to go places I’ve never been, and see things I’ve never seen.
Unfortunately, that reminds me of the private show I received last night in the men’s dressing room, and the two new and very impressive things I saw then. That, and the stage show itself, were a little too stimulating, but I can handle it. Thank god I brought along one of my favorite vibrators, because it definitely came in handy last night.
It’s a beautiful day, and the sun shining in through the window makes me yawn. I’m starting to fall asleep when one of the guys yells for the driver to stop.
“Someone needs help,” Colin says. He’s on his feet and craning his neck to look back behind us.
Our van comes to a stop just slowly enough to not be jarring, and Toad looks around the divider for directions. “A car was stopped alongside the road,” she explains.