Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
He did not like that at all, either.
In fact, he fucking hated it.
But she was doing what he “hired” her to do, and that was work the crowd. Make her customers happy without getting naked. Encourage them to drink more, tip heavier.
When they begged her for a private dance, she’d call over one of the other girls and set them up. The dancers were making better money than they had in a while. That put her in good favor with them. And she had wormed her way into their hearts as she had his.
Again, the club was packed.
It couldn’t be Emma bringing in all the business, could it?
Were all these fucking men coming in to see her? To try to steal her away from him?
“Cubby,” he barked.
The bartender paused in mixing a drink. “Yeah, boss?”
“Why d’you think the place’s packed tonight?”
With a smile, Cubby finished topping off the glass with a squirt of pop from the dispenser gun. Then he jerked his chin toward Emma. “Think you found your golden goose, boss.”
“She ain’t even gettin’ naked,” he muttered.
“Don’t think she needs to be. It’s the chase they like. She ain’t giving anything up, so they want her even more. Temptation at its finest. They’re enjoying the pursuit.”
“Think so?”
“Yeah, boss. She’s like the untouchable and they all want to be the first one to score.”
Fucking nobody was “scoring” with her. Nobody.
His gaze pinned on the man who had an arm around Emma’s waist and his hand spread over her ribcage, having a deep conversation with her tits.
Fuck.
If she was on stage, the place would probably be a ghost town. Her dancing would chase them away. But working the crowd? Cubby was right. She was just out of reach for them. It was like dangling a carrot in front of the horse. Or donkey. What-fucking-ever.
From across the stage, Emma’s eyes met his, and she arched an eyebrow at his scowl. Then she returned her attention to the man who was now pawing at her hip and threw her head back. He could almost hear her throaty laugh over the music from where he stood.
Fucking bullshit. That’s what it was. Bullshit.
Dawg watched with narrowed eyes as Emma playfully dragged her fingers through the customer’s hair while bending over to whisper something in his ear in that ball-tightening voice of hers. The man finally lifted his gaze from her cleavage as Emma waved a hand at Savannah, who rushed over and escorted the man back toward the VIP rooms.
She landed another fucking sale. Just like that. A touch. A laugh. A whisper. And they were putty in her hands.
Suddenly, Emma was on the other side of the bar from him, frowning. “Why are you grumpy now? You’re having a great night. It’s busy. The girls are happy. Cubby’s even raking in the tips.”
“You bend over like that, he can see your tits.”
She glanced down at her dress then back up at him. “Okay?”
“You bend over like that, he can see your tits.”
“Okay? If I was on stage, he’d see my...” She shrugged, making the objects of this discussion jiggle beneath the thin, glittery fabric. “Breasts, anyway.”
“Ain’t on stage.”
“No, but—”
“Woman,” he growled.
Then she laughed. Laughed.
“Not funny.”
“Daw—Dawg, I’m doing what you hired me to do.”
“Know it.”
“I’m doing it well.”
“Know that, too.” She was doing it a little too well.
“So, stop being a grump.”
“Ain’t a grump.”
“Well, you sure look like one. You’d have a handsome face if you’d stop scrunching it up like you’ve been sucking on a lemon.”
“Don’t like ‘em touchin’ you.”
“It’s harmless. They’re just being friendly.”
Right. Friendly.
“Should fire your ass an’ just make you my house mouse ‘til all your shit’s settled.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
Yeah, that’s what he should do. Lock her up in his place and only let her out when he was with her.
Fuck! He couldn’t do that, but he was sorely tempted.
“Who did your makeup?”
Her delicate brows rose in surprise. “Cocoa. Why?”
It was perfect for her. Just enough to emphasize her girl-next-door looks. Hell, if he didn’t know better, he might wonder if she was a virgin himself.
His gaze swept the floor and the crowd of men filling the room. Fuck. Maybe they all thought she was a virgin and wanted to be the first one to pop her cherry!
No. Nobody at her age was a virgin anymore. Were they?
“Are you okay?” she asked, a look of concern on her face.
No, he was not okay. All these men wanted to stick their dicks in Emma.
A blood vessel throbbed at his temple.
Nobody was sticking their dick in his woman, except him.
His head jerked back. His woman?
Fuck him. She was here only temporarily. Just until she got her daughter back. He needed that reminder tattooed onto his forehead.
Fuck! He needed that tattooed onto his dick instead. So every time he looked at it, touched it, took a fucking piss, he’d be reminded of the truth.