Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 93(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 93(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 62(@300wpm)
I don’t know what’s come over me, but a sense of protectiveness stronger than anything I’ve ever felt has gripped me and I can’t shake it. Thousands of girls have come through my club with horror stories in their past about why they need to work here. I haven’t even heard Tilly’s yet, and I feel a bond between us.
I watch her as she scampers off, smiling, toward the women’s locker room to fetch her things. Once she’s out of earshot, Damien turns to me, scowling.
“What the hell was that? She cast a love spell on you or something?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scowl, brushing him off. “Look at that girl. You know she’s too naïve to be working here right away.”
Damien laughs. “Since when has a girl being too naïve ever stopped us from hiring her?”
He’s right of course.
“And what happens to those girls?” I ask him. “They burn out quickly and quit. But this girl is crazy sexy. If we work her in slow, give her a chance, maybe that won’t happen to her. Maybe we’ll have a real earner on our hands.”
I’m lying my ass off. Truth is, I don’t want Damien to see that he’s spot on with his analysis of what’s going on between me and Tilly. That I’ve been bitten by the bug, and I don’t want any other men looking at her. As far as I’m concerned, she’s mine, and that’s all there is to it. This whole “training” thing is just a bunch of bullshit to get her out of the club. Keeping her away from the motel? Well, that’s not.
That place is packed full of junkies, thieves, and all-around scumbags. You couldn’t pay me to spend a night there, so the thought of her spending her money to stay has me nearly nauseous.
“All right, if you say so,” Damien replies. “Just don’t forget to send me a wedding invitation, all right?”
Flashing a dirty look at Damien, I head up to my office. Whatever song the girl is dancing to right now is annoying the shit out of me, so I’m relieved as I close the door behind me.
She’s so vulnerable—too vulnerable for a place like this, and if she’s as innocent as I think she is, the only man that’s going to take that innocence is going to be me. It’s going to be nearly impossible to hold back and keep myself from tearing her apart. I can’t stop myself from picturing her face when I slip inside her, the sounds she would make, how it would feel to have her hands clutch on to me for safety as I took her tiny little body beneath me and used it for exactly what it was designed for.
I realize I’m sweating, so I go to my bathroom and splash some water on my face to cool down. It helps…a little, but as I dry off and look at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but look at the scar running down my left cheek—a massive imperfection, the likes of which Tilly has none.
I’m an idiot for even thinking about her. Compared to her, I’m a monster. Once I provide her refuge, she’ll no longer have any use for me. The chances of anything happening between us are slimmer than me going to work for NASA.
Even my shirt is soaked with sweat, so I strip out of it and am slipping into a simple black T-shirt when there’s a knock at the door. “Um, Mr.…Colt, sir? It’s Tilly.”
I don’t know how many girls have come through this club during its existence, but this is the first time since I can remember that I’m actually nervous. I walk to the mirror and look at myself. I almost feel like I’m about to take a girl out on a first date. Then I call out,
“Come in, Tilly!”
3
Tilly
As I ride in the passenger’s seat of Colt’s car, I’m absolutely buzzing, only this time I’m not nervous; I’m lit up with excitement.
How can Colt be the owner of the strip club—the man in charge of that horrible, tasteless sign out front—and also make me feel so comfortable and safe around him at the same time?
How can he be the one ready to step in and stop me from basically turning into an escort for the rest of the night, and then volunteer to take care of me for the foreseeable future?
It just doesn’t make sense.
I can understand why Colt is the man in charge and not Damien.
Colt looks like a muscled, sculpted warrior from a long-forgotten era, brought forward in time. When he was holding my hand back at the club, a sense of security flowed through me that still hasn’t left me. Even now as he’s driving, all I want to do is crawl across the center console and into his arms and let him hold me like a little girl. I can’t even remember the last time my father did that with me.