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)
“Don’t worry, Boss Lady, it wasn’t room service,” Colin says, and there’s so much affection in his voice that his nickname for me takes on an entirely new dimension.
“Thank you,” I say. “You should have woken me up earlier. I could have gone out with you to get this.”
“We figured you needed the sleep,” Zane says, rubbing my back before his hand squeezes my shoulder.
The dimensions of this hotel room are far from the luxury of the suite in the previous city. With five of us here, especially with four being large men, the room is very full, but it doesn’t seem crowded. It’s cozy and comforting.
Jordan’s sitting at the small table and gets up to offer the seat.
“That’s okay. I can sit on the bed,” I tell him.
“I have a better idea.” His arm circles my waist, and he pulls me toward him as he sits back down, bringing me onto his lap.
“Sure you can handle this?” I ask, wiggling my bottom.
His hands grasp my hips and keep me still. “I can handle all of this, when we have time. Didn’t you say we needed to get an early start today?”
“We do,” I say with a sigh, as I lean back against his solid chest. Right now, I’d like to forget all about the tour and stay in this room with them all day long. Last night wasn’t enough, and I have a feeling tonight won’t be enough, either.
28
BRITTANY
I must have a soft spot for men who bring me breakfast, because during the ride to our next venue, I find myself looking at the men in a new light.
Where Jordan had been irritating and mouthy, he now seems clever and funny. Colin’s fuckboy persona has morphed into charm, and what had seemed like cockiness is now coming across as confidence. I realize now that Owen isn’t surly; he’s thoughtful and quiet, and Zane, who I didn’t necessarily have a bad impression of, has turned into a trusted friend before my eyes. Not that I see him as merely a friend. A friend with massive benefits, pun intended this time.
We’re still careful not to do anything inappropriate in the van, but instead of sitting in my chair doing my best to ignore the men like I was a couple of days ago, now we’re swapping seats, sharing music, telling jokes, and playing games together to pass the time.
At some point, conversation turns to anecdotes from the men’s performances, and Jordan shares a story about an overzealous bachelorette he once brought on stage at Club Red. “She was already in a very skimpy dress,” he says. “I was afraid of her falling out of it while she was sitting in the chair. I was dancing around her, and she was clapping so enthusiastically. It was a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Did she have a wardrobe malfunction?” Zane asks Jordan, though Zane is looking at me, and tracing a little pattern on the side of my jeans, so he doesn’t seem all that interested in the answer.
“Her dress held up surprisingly well,” Jordan says, “but about halfway through her time up there, she tugged the top of it down and pulled her tits out.”
My eyes widen, and when Colin sees my reaction, he says, “It happens way more often than you’d think.”
“Oh, the hardships of being a male stripper,” I say in a fake put-upon tone. “Having women throw themselves at you every time you turn around.”
“Not to split hairs,” Owen says, “but we’re not strippers, we’re dancers.”
“I know, but technically, a lot of stripping does take place during the show.”
“Just not all of our clothes,” Owen says.
“Right, just the women in the audience taking their tits out for you,” I say.
“Of course, no man is going to complain about seeing tits, but it’s awkward dealing with that on stage, and it’s not actually us these women are getting excited about, it’s our stage personas,” Jordan says, sounding more serious about the topic than I’d have expected. What happened to the arrogant man from a couple of days ago who bragged about women asking for dick pics?
“It’s the fantasy we’re presenting that turns them on,” Colin says.
“Not your gorgeous bodies and your sexy moves,” I say, unable to hold back the sarcasm.
“We’re up there purely for the audience’s amusement,” Jordan says. “They don’t know us. They only see what they want to see.”
I study his face, trying to read between the lines. “This started out as a funny story, but there’s a serious undercurrent here that I didn’t expect,” I say. “Did you have a bad experience?”
Jordan and Colin exchange a look. There’s definitely something more to this.
“It’s nothing,” Jordan says, avoiding eye contact.
I look to Colin, hoping he’ll be up for sharing.
“I’m just speaking for myself,” he says, “but as a dancer, you learn early on not to get into relationships with your fans.”