A hard elbow in my side had me looking over sharply with a "fuck you" on the tip of my tongue, but it was just Adam. He gave me a slight nod of warning and a look that said "pay attention." He was right. I was winning the crew over even if Henry had reservations.
"You bored, son?" Henry mocked, but his tone was half-envious, as if he wondered how I was immune to all this jiggling flesh.
"Just making sure we don't die of thirst," I answered. "Why don't you pick out a place for us, and I'll get the drinks." The three other guys who worked under Henry nodded in enthusiasm, but Henry narrowed his eyes as if I had some trick up my sleeve.
I did, but it had nothing to do with Henry and our stupid little power plays. At the bar, most of the guys had their stools turned because even though the place was ringed with mirrors, they were here to see the live show. The bartender gave me a nod of acknowledgment and held up one finger. After a minute, he hustled down. Wiping the bar top with a rag too wet to absorb any liquid, he gestured for my order.
"Two pitchers."
"Eighteen dollars."
I laid a twenty on the bar top, but when the bartender tugged at the bill, I didn't let go. "Which section is Winter Donovan's?"
He squinted and then looked past me into the club. When he didn't spot her—because she wasn't on the floor—he shrugged. "Left side of the stage, near the front."
The front left side of the stage was nearly shrouded in darkness, but I saw a table big enough for six that would make Henry happy and would put me in prime viewing of all the other tables in Winter's section. "Thanks." I laid another five on the bar top and shoved the bills toward him.
Across the room, I managed to catch Adam's eye. We'd been friends since kindergarten, so it wasn't hard for Adam to read
my intentions. He placed a hand on Henry's arm, stalling him while I went to claim the table—the one that was occupied.
No one from the table noticed me when I approached. They were too busy staring slack-jawed at the stage, where a pretty Asian girl worked the pole like gravity didn't exist. "A hundred bucks for your table." I slapped down the bill in the middle of them, and the five guys stared at it and then me for the three long seconds it took to make up their minds.
One meaty hand dove across the table and snatched it up. "All yours."
I dropped the pitchers, sat in my chair, and waited.
A tall, busty blonde in a sheer black baby doll nightie and shorts so tiny they might as well have been underwear showed up after Adam, Henry, and the others took their seats. She arranged glasses in front of us and poured the beer.
"Where's Winter?" I asked. I felt like a broken record.
The blonde gave me a long perusal, and I gave her my smile, the one my last girlfriend said made her panties wet and her heart beat faster. I didn't know if it had the same results on the waitress, but it worked enough to get her to soften her intense gaze. She tipped her head toward the other side of the room. Through the flashing lights and fog creeping over the stage, I saw the fall of Winter's black hair that fell like a silk curtain. It tumbled forward as she leaned over and passed drinks to tables.
"Thought this was her section."
She gave me a sympathetic shrug. "Things change. Sometimes we trade. I promise I can deliver a beer and a burger as well as Winter."
"I don't doubt that." Carrying on a conversation in the middle of any club was impossible, so I gave up. The blonde took our order and hustled off. I stared across the room, tracking Winter's every movement. The club was designed so every eye would be focused on the stage. All the lights were directed there, leaving the rest of the place shrouded in darkness. But I knew her, even in the dark, so it wasn't hard for me to make out her shape, to watch her move from table to table, to get turned on whenever she bent over.
God, what a fucking tool I was. There was really no way to get a good look at her, but I was aroused by the idea of her. No. It wasn't the idea. It was the memory. It was the feel of her slim body slick and ready for me, and the taste of her as she ate at my mouth like it was her last meal—or her first. It was all those good things that washed over me in a welcome flood.
Hoots roused me from my reverie, and when I tore my gaze from the shadow of Winter, I saw the cause. The stripper had moved down the T-shaped stage to stop close to us. She dropped down and spread her knees wide. Her hands slid down toward the apex of her thighs, driving everyone at the table wild. Henry jumped up, placed two fingers between his lips, and let out an ear-piercing whistle. Me? I was irritated she was blocking my view of Winter.
Winter was avoiding me, but here in this titty bar, I had an advantage she didn't. I was a paying customer, and she was… God, who knew what she was doing here.
"Don't do anything I would do," Adam murmured knowingly as I pushed away from the table.
"Where would the fun be in that?" I gave him a wry half grin and moved toward my target. A man in black slacks and a dress shirt stood near a short hallway to the side of the bar. Winter had disappeared down that hallway when I first arrived. Since then I'd seen a variety of men and workers slip away after talking to the guy at the entrance. Most strip clubs had rooms where a patron could buy a private dance—or more, depending on the club.
"What's up?" the man asked as I approached.
"Just taking a breather."
"Our dancers not doing it for you tonight?"
"It's noisy and crowded. I think it's more the atmosphere. Maybe you have someplace quieter where I could sit and still enjoy myself?" I pulled out a twenty.
He swiped it out of my hand so fast I almost forgot I’d held anything.