Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“The world needs more men like you, Ty Jenkins.” Kell caressed his cheek then kissed him there. He got lost in his partner’s affection the rest of the ride.
“We’re here,” The driver told them.
Ty noticed they were parked on the curb directly in front of the club entrance. There wasn’t a line, thank goodness, but the parking lot had a few people lingering about. He texted Duke and told him they were coming in. If Ty did this right, they should be in and out in less than thirty minutes.
He tucked a piece of Kell’s hair behind his ear, “You ready to do this?”
“I’m following you,” Kell answered.
That’s what I’m talking ’bout. Ty let the driver open his door. Heads turned when he stood to his full height. He stopped the driver from walking around the car and instead opened Kell’s door himself. He reached in and let Kell take his hand. When he was out of the car, Kell glanced around with his nose in the air, as if deciding if this place was worth his time. Playing the part. With his decision made, he slipped his arm inside Ty’s elbow and strolled up to the bouncer waiting out front.
“Ya’ll want the VIP tonight?” the bouncer asked, looking them up and down. “It’s available. Not too packed in there tonight.”
Ty smiled. Even better for his plan. He pulled out a money clip and flipped off two big face bills and handed them to the bouncer, “VIP sounds good.”
The beefy man gave Ty a one-armed hug like they were boys now. “Cool. I’ll walk you guys in.”
Ty hadn’t anticipated being upgraded, but that was what happened when someone came to the club ’flossin. He had a dime-piece on his arm. Everything they wore was designer and their diamonds were genuine. That was all they needed to get offered VIP status.
He could already see his boss shitting bricks.
Kell
Kell fingered the small device in his ear—ensuring it was in place—before the bouncer opened the door. The thumping bass rattled his chest and the smell of men, lust and funk slapped him in his nose before he was even fifteen feet inside. He fought to stay in character and not look around for his team, who he knew was somewhere inside, watching his every move. All of the hunters were there, shrouded in the dark corners of the small club.
He touched his earlobe, hoping his earpiece was working. They didn’t have the fancy communication watches that the rest of them had, but they were wired in to hear if their bosses spoke to their device.
“Relax, Kellam. It’s working.” Quick’s voice was so clear it was as if he’d whispered it in his head.
Kell nodded slightly and stayed close to Ty. The bouncer led them through the throng of bodies as heads swiveled in their direction and hands reached out to touch. The bouncer walked up a couple of steps to a small corner sealed off by a red velvet rope, and unlatched the hook. He gestured with a sweep of his tattooed arm for them to go in. The club was too small to try to have a VIP section. There was nothing but a tiny cocktail table in front of a white pleather love seat and a potted four-foot ficus in the corner.
Ty gave the bouncer another bill and had him signal one of the male waiters over. Ty leaned against the railing overlooking the packed dance floor and pulled Kell against him. They had to make sure they stayed visible.
The waiter wore latex-looking, bright yellow boy shorts and an intrigued smile. “Good evening. What can I do for you two?” He stood close to them. Very close. “Anything you need, just ask.”
Ty put his other arm around the waiter and smoothed his hand down the side of his hip.
Kell tightened, but he kept up his appearance of being part of a couple open to some fun.
Ty was whispering something close to the server’s cheek that made him squirm and nod eagerly. He motioned like he was telling the waiter a sexy suggestion. More eyes turned their way. People were wondering who they were. There were a lot of celebrities in Atlanta and at any moment one could pop up. Or Ty could be a music producer, a talent scout for Arista Entertainment, a record label executive, anyone. As long as you looked important, people treated you important. That was one lesson Kell’s father had taught him.
After wiggling and giggling some more on Ty’s other arm, the waiter caressed Ty’s cheek and said he’d be right back. He grinned smugly at his fellow servers as he sashayed toward the bar.
Kell turned his face into Ty’s freshly shaved cheek, settling himself between his legs. He leaned in to whisper a deadly secret to his fiancé, while keeping a charming smile on his lips, “If he touches your face again, I’m going to throw him out that window.”