Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 119212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
The music went up a whole decibel level, and I was done.
I texted Hendrix.
Me: You at your place now?
Hendrix: Yep. Game’s on.
I chuckled. If anything else, we were a predictable lot.
Me: Heading over now.
Hendrix: Pick up a pack, would you? I’m out.
I glanced at the food I grabbed, and none of it looked appeasing.
Me: Food?
Hendrix: I stocked up on the way home. Just bring the beer.
Me: On it.
16
Cheyenne
A girl’s ass was bouncing in my face.
And it was close enough that I could tell she put a strong dose of vanilla cupcake perfume right there. If I looked close enough, I could probably identify which self-tanner she used, and she preferred purple glitter rather than the regular all-color glitter.
Yep. Too close.
I focused on Sasha who was sitting next to me, lounging back in one of her booths, with an arm resting over the top of it, her hand dangling, and her other hand stroking her glass on the table.
“Why is Juna giving me a lap dance?” As I asked, the dancer in question turned and hooked one ankle around my neck, and her whole body fell backwards. “Oh! Whoa!”
“Don’t touch her,” came from Sasha, but she wasn’t too upset. She wasn’t even looking.
I looked down and past a thong that I did not want to see…there, in all her glory, I saw Juna looking up at me. She was laughing.
I asked, “You okay down there?”
She unhooked her ankle, sliding to the floor, and came back up to slide in on the other side of our booth. It was a round booth. It was Sasha’s special booth. She used it when the club wasn’t too full, and one of us was here.
“Yeah.” Juna winced, rotating her arm in a circle. “I was trying a new move, but it didn’t work. Everything else up to then was good, wasn’t it?”
“You don’t need the new move.” Sasha was still not watching us, she was looking out somewhere else. I didn’t think she was even seeing the main stage, or all the other booths that were spread out before us and below us. We were at the highest spot in the club. The rest was shitty seating, or really great private seating, depending on how you viewed it.
“You don’t think?”
“No.” Another monotone answer from Sasha.
Juna rubbed at her arm, frowning at her boss before looking at me. “What do you think?”
“I’m not a dance-expert, but the shows I’ve seen you do, I don’t think it’s needed either.”
She sighed, standing. “Okay. Maybe I’ll think about doing something else.”
“You don’t need anything new. Stick to what you do. It’s already perfect.”
“New tricks mean new tips.”
“The regulars like what you’re doing already.”
Juna was walking away and heard this last comment, sending a last grin over her shoulder before a guy snagged her up. Warm smiles, and soon she was air-grinding on a dude in a corner.
Sasha noticed, watching. “She better not try the new move.”
“But if she does, maybe she’ll get better tips.”
“She’ll hurt herself and then there’ll be no tips.”
Sasha could be a hardass, but not usually like this.
I frowned. “What’s going on with you?”
Not even a blink, she sent back, “What’s going on with you?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”
“You and the NHL guy.” She scowled. “You’re seeing him?”
She knew I was. I’d called and told her what happened. “We’ve been texting. He’s had away games.”
“You think that’s smart? He was your ideal in school and college. That gives him an edge over you. He could hurt you, ya know.”
She was griping. Griping and Sasha went together like peas in a pod, but this was more. I gestured to my own face. “Right here.”
“What?” A sharp snap from her.
I touched the corner of my mouth. “Right here is where you have this line that goes down.”
She touched her own face, but her movements were jerky, impatient.
I shook my head. “That line just got worse.”
I was trying to tell her this, and I was trying to lead her down the path, but there was a buzzing. It was in the background, and my meds had kicked back in, but it always took a little before they really helped center things away. Because of that, I was sitting here, and I was acting like normal, pretending to myself and to Sasha that I was normal, but I wasn’t. The buzzing was building. It was in my blood, and it was rising, rising. If I let it overtake me, I’d be gone.
I couldn’t do that again.
I liked Tits. I liked the darkness of the place. I liked that there was some grime in it, too. I liked the girls. Of course, I liked the boss. The security guards were like uncles and big brothers. There was an undertone that was settling to me, even all the glitter, too.
I was able to relax in Tits, but Sash was interrupting that flow.