Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“And you’re looking amazing. Thanks again for agreeing to do the photo shoot,” I reply. She gives me a wave as if it’s nothing.
“You didn’t even include my face, so it’s a win-win. And you photoshopped my tattoos. So even those closest to me won’t know it’s me.” She winks. The music changes and I know that’s my cue to go out onto the stage. “Good luck,” she yells as I hurry past her and stand behind the curtains. I wait a few breaths as the music drops to a lower beat, then I make my move. Relaxing my jaw, I saunter out, one foot in front of the other.
I’m wearing a lingerie set Dutton gifted me. I didn’t know what to do with the pile of skimpy items. And even though I don’t like the feeling of owing anyone anything, I was very partial to this set studded with diamonds. So if I’m dancing one more time, why not wear it? I certainly feel hot as fuck in it.
Tonight, I’m wearing black leather—a short skirt and a top with a cutout at the breast area. My high-heeled boots are black to match the attire, and I’m wearing fishnet stockings. When the music picks up, cheers start, and I sashay around the pole, one hand wrapped around the cool metal, making eye contact with the men.
My gaze lands on a set of cold blue eyes, and immediately, I know I’m in deep trouble. But I don’t care because I don’t answer to that asshole. Okay, technically, I do because he’s my boss, but not on matters where he’s treating me differently from the others. There’s only so much fuckery I’ll accept.
Besides, I’ve always lived by the philosophy of asking for forgiveness over permission. My boss doesn’t look happy, scowling in his seat beside the twins. I smirk, and even from here, I swear I can see his left eye twitch.
I can’t help but fill with mischievous delight at pissing him off as a friendly reminder that he doesn’t own me.
Dropping down to my hands and knees, I crawl to the edge of the stage. The twins are warily looking at Dutton. The bulkier one, who I’ve come to learn is named Hawke, can’t help but stare, and I smile. His brother punches him in the arm, and he curses, rubbing it.
Dutton looks like he’s about to burn him alive.
He better tip me.
“Hey.” I wink as I get up on my knees. Lifting my hands to my shirt, I pull it open and expose my lace bra, which gives hints of my nipples underneath. This time, I only look at Dutton. His gaze dips only once before coming back to my face. He’s seriously pissed.
“Stop,” he grits.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I only answer to tips,” I smirk.
I keep eye contact with Dutton as I throw the shirt onto his lap. Usually, I would never do that, but I know I’ll get it back from him. His fists close around it, and I feel too smug at how he looks like he wants to teach me a lesson.
I switch positions, grinding down sensually until my back hits the floor.
“Get off the stage, and do not remove one more piece,” he growls.
I smile sweetly, and that’s when Hawke nudges him.
“You still haven’t tipped her,” Hawke whisper-shouts.
See, his friend gets it.
I bring my heels together and pulse a few times before sensually standing up again. I sway my hips as I walk to the pole and climb it, gripping my legs around it and flicking my hair over my shoulder. When my feet hit the floor again, I’m about to readjust my grip and position, but I’m grabbed around my waist and pulled backward.
“Hey!” I scream as I’m flipped over a broad shoulder.
“I warned you. Do I not pay you enough that you have to resort to dancing again?” Dutton says as he carries me out. I kick and scream as he drags me off the back of the stage. I’m having serious déjà vu right now. I take a glance back at the audience, who seem baffled. The twins appear to be the most stunned of all.
When we reach the backstage area, Paula looks mortified and shocked. She can’t speak as he charges us toward his office.
“I’m a woman; we love money,” I say as I kick and elbow him. Okay, I knew this would piss him off a little, but this is some stupid macho shit.
He enters his office and slams the door shut behind us. As he slides me down over his shoulder and onto my feet, he snaps, “Cover up. And you aren’t allowed to find the nearest weapon and hit me with it. Do you understand me?”
The moment my heels touch the floor, I shove him hard enough that he has to take a step back. “I don’t hit you,” I seethe, fuming. I know I antagonized him, but I didn’t think he’d literally drag me off mid-performance. Again.