“Shit,” Gray bit out and hastily wiped my back frantically with his sleeve.
“The man took one step, saw me, and said in a voice I recognized, “Sasha?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gray Elliot
I stepped in front of Sadie to shield her from my father’s eyes.
Wait, did he just call her Sasha?
“What is going on here?” Phoebe dropped her designer bag and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head.
I realized my dick was hanging out, so I zipped up.
“What is Sasha doing here?” my father asked.
“Who’s Sasha?” Phoebe asked.
“She’s a stri—” My father stopped himself in time. “She’s a student at the university. I, uh, I thought this girl was her, but I guess it’s not.”
“No, this is my daughter, Sadie.” Her eyes adjusted to the darker room and she blinked hard. “What is going on? What have you two been doing?”
The music stopped. Sadie must have grabbed the remote. The sudden silence was thick, smothering.
She pressed into my back and whispered in my ear. “Your father is my Wednesday night regular at the club.”
Oh, fucking hell.
“It’s nothing, Mom,” she trilled from behind me.
“Nothing?” Phoebe’s voice rose. “You fucking your stepbrother is nothing?”
“I, uh, I—” Her fingernails scrabbled at the back of my shirt. “Shit,” she said under her breath.
“Why are you back so early?” I was stalling. I had to get Sadie out of the room and somehow rectify the situation.
Phoebe gave my father a hard look. “We had irreconcilable differences.”
My father shrugged and kept trying to peer around me and get a look at Sadie.
“But you just got married,” Sadie said.
Her mother didn’t seem to mind her disembodied voice. “It’s been annulled. Nothing was ever, well … Let’s just say the contract was never performed.” Another hard look at my father.
“I may have forgotten my prescription.” He scratched his balding head and took a step into the living room.
I reached behind me and placed my hand on Sadie’s hip. “Dad, not another step.”
He stopped and Phoebe came to stand beside him. “I think you and your father should leave. Now.”
“No.” Sadie’s voice shot out from behind me.
“What?” Phoebe asked.
“Yes, I fucked my stepbrother.” She sidestepped me, standing naked before my father and her mother. I stepped in front of her again, but she put a hand on my arm. “Let me do this,” she said softly.
I couldn’t deny those blue eyes. I never could. I returned to my original position. Under protest.
Phoebe sputtered. My father stared, slackjawed. I wanted to end him.
“Mom, I’m a stripper.”
Phoebe literally clutched her pearls. It was so comical, I wanted to laugh. But I wanted to murder my father more for looking at what was mine.
“No, you’re not. You’re a scholar.”
“No, Mom. I dance for money. This guy.” She pointed to my father. “Is my Wednesday night regular. Gray is my Friday night regular.”
“I need to sit down.” Phoebe walked to the sofa on unsteady legs and sank like a rusty ship.
“Can I cover you now?” I asked, still bristling to commit patricide.
Sadie crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, please.”
I pulled my shirt over my head and slid it down around her, the fabric swallowing her in a billowy bag. Much better.
She sat next to her mother. “I am a scholar and a stripper. I can be both.”
Phoebe shook her head. Her sunglasses fell and perched on her nose before she swiped them away angrily.
“No. And that’s bad enough, but it’s not even the worst, is it? With your stepbrother, Sadie?”
“Ex-stepbrother,” I interrupted. The taboo was hot. Sadie, in the flesh, was far hotter.
“Right, ex-stepbrother.” Sadie pulled her wig off and shook out her red hair. She took Phoebe’s hand in hers.
Phoebe tried to pull away, but Sadie held her fast. Slowly, Phoebe met her daughter’s eyes. She sighed and slumped, giving a sad shake of her head.
“Mom, please, can you accept me as I am? Stripper, scholar, daughter?”
“I can,” my father said and took yet another step closer.
“Can it, old man,” I growled.
“Well, I-I-…” Phoebe trailed off before straightening her back and looking Sadie in the eye. She gave a little shrug before a half smile crept into her face. “Seeing as how I met your father while I was wrapped around a stripper pole, I suppose I can.”
Epilogue
I dropped low, squatting with my legs open as I faced him. His eyes burned for me even in the low lights of the club. His two fingers were in the air again, motioning me toward him. But now he spoke.
“If you aren’t on my cock in ten seconds, Sasha, you’re going to get a spanking.”
I rose and twirled around the pole. “Promise?”
“I’m counting.” He unzipped his pants and let his erection spring from his briefs. I wanted it in my mouth, in my pussy, between my tits. I needed another hit, just a taste of my favorite client.