His Sweetest Sin - Page 33

I laugh. “Really. Ethan gave it to me. He gets a new one every few years, and he usually keeps them. They are stored in a garage, he has a whole floor of them. I had a Volvo I loved. Then one weekend a few years ago Ethan let me drive this, and I felt like it changed my life. I fell in love. When Ethan got a new one he gave me this one. It’s embarrassing though, it has like sixteen thousand miles on it with almost all of them Ethan’s.”

“Damn, sugar, what a waste.”

“I know. I just don’t get out of the city often enough. Driving in the city is not for me. Do you have a car?”

“Nope, when I got traded from California to New York I sold it. I considered getting one in New York only I never needed it. Then I went to Massachusetts, same story, then here.”

When we get to the club, Trent Mayer is waiting for us with a smile as he greets Chris with one of those guy shake-hug things. “Damn man, if you had told me why you didn’t want to hit the club I would have understood. Hey, Amelia, how are you doing tonight?”

“Watch it, you touch her I break your hand.”

Since Chris says it without a smile, and deadly promise, both Trent and I smile uneasily with a nod at each other. I grab Chris’s hand, pulling him past the small vestibule entry. “Come on, cranky.”

The music isn’t nearly as loud as I thought it would be and the place isn’t nearly as scummy as I pictured it. A few heads come up as we walk through the tables. There aren’t too many people here, then again it is a Tuesday night. Several women greet Chris with a welcoming smile, and I feel a growl growing low inside me. One moment my eyes are darting everywhere to take everything in, the next I’m in Chris’s lap. “Hey.”

“Hey, nothing, sugar. Settle, you can still see everything from here.”

Trent is beside Chris. The chairs are large, plush faux leather. I don’t have time to respond before a woman with only pasties on her nipples asks what we’d like to drink. She’s staring lustily at Chris. I’m relieved to see Chris’s eyes never even pause over the women around us, including the waitress, though it’s clear he knows her. She is an exotic mix of Asian and African-American; glitter sparkles across her impressive, surgically enhanced chest. I’m guessing she is around my age or maybe a few years younger. Her hair is a riot of black curls piled high on her head. I lean back, giving her a hard stare as I order a margarita on ice, no salt. Chris looks at me then shakes his head as he orders a club soda with lime, telling her to make sure my tequila is top shelf. “What?”

“Tequila?” I shrug as I press a kiss to his cheek.

Trent laughs. “Amelia Bishop, as much as I appreciate you getting Chris out here, what in the world are you doing here?”

“I felt sorry for you. I saw you’d been texting him all week. I’ve also always wanted to see what it’s like in one of these places.”

I watch as the dancer on stage wraps her legs around the pole then slowly descends without using her hands, while she’s shaking her very impressive breasts and making her ass shake. Okay, I get how some women make a few grand a night.

Chris and Trent laugh, they are talking as I watch the women and the men in the club. There are about four women with trays walking around serving drinks. Two are wearing pasties, one is wearing a white tank that is wet and three sizes too small, the other is in a bikini top barely large enough to contain her breasts. All of them are wearing thong panties.

I spot three women who are chatting with men, and they all offer small touches as they nod. They are also wearing barely there tops. A woman who looks naked from where I sit is grinding on a man, rubbing her breasts into his face. As I watch her, I take a few mental notes then give up. Aren’t lap dances only for if you aren’t going to have sex? Since I can’t imagine not wanting sex when Chris wants it or him being satisfied with a lap dance, my eyes wander through the club.

The drink goes faster than I thought it would. We’re really just sitting here watching the women dance, while Chris and Trent are talking about a game from last season. I’m kind of sort of bored, aside from walking around half-naked, I don’t see the appeal. Although I’m already mentally going through my closet to make sure I have the kind of clothes Chris would prefer.

After the woman who was on stage finishes her third dance, a new woman comes up who has all the curves Chris likes so much. The dancer is looking at Chris hungrily, and he tenses beneath me. Yep, she’s one of the women he’s fucked. It shouldn’t bother me, it doesn’t, okay, yes it does. I do my best to shake it off. I knew walking in here this was practically guaranteed, it’s why I wanted to come.

When the waitress comes back she smiles widely. “You are so lucky. All the women here love him. He’s one of the nicest, most respectful guys who has been in here in ages. Did he talk you into coming here? Are you two looking for a threesome?” My eyes go big in astonishment at her question. She laughs. “You should see your face. So, no to a threesome. It’s pretty common when women come in with their men.”

I shrug. Chris is looking up at me with a smile then goes back to talking to Trent. “I’ve always been curious about coming into a place like this. A few women I’ve worked with had asshole clients who made appointments at strip clubs, to intimidate them. When they said it wasn’t nearly as bad as they expected, I wanted to know what it’s like. I was also—” I look down to make sure Chris is engrossed in his conversation. “I was wondering how to make sure he doesn’t get bored if I’m not like the women he’s used to.”

“Ah.” She hugs me. Her skin is insanely soft, she smells good, and it’s not nearly as weird to hug the half-naked woman as I would have guessed. “You are so adorable.” There’s that stupid word again. “Come on, let’s go powder our noses.”

The idea of refusing doesn’t cross my mind. As I stand Chris’s arm goes around my waist. “Where are you going?”

“To the restroom.”

Chris shoots a glare at the woman. “Angie, you keep men away from her. If someone so much as touches her it’s on you.”

With a gulp she nods. “We’ll be right back.”

I barely have time to be annoyed before Chris’s hand goes around the back of my neck, pulling me down to him. Holly hell, his kiss is fire, burning me down to my toes. I can’t breathe and I don’t care. When he ends the kiss his eyes trace my face, and with a look of satisfaction he lets me go.

Angie laughs as she takes my hand, then pulls me away. Trailing after her in a daze, I have no idea where I’m going. We stop in what looks like a locker room, in a pale pink. There are half-size lockers that line two walls, then there are four vanity areas. An array of makeup, hair products, flat irons and curling irons are jumbled on the vanity.

“Hey there, cutie, I saw you come in with Chris Baldwin. Are you two shopping for a third?” a very young woman, with skin the color of milk chocolate, hair a pretty br

ight pink and breasts I envy for how perky they are asks with interest.

I still can’t stop my eyes from widening as I shake my head and suck hard on the straw. My drink is gone, and I’m waiting for the buzz to hit me to make this whole experience a little less intimidating. Angie speaks for me. “They are not looking for a third. She was curious about her man coming in here and how to make sure she keeps his attention. I think she’s adorable. I brought her back here for a Cliff Notes session, Rachel. You want to help me out?”

Tags: Fiona Murphy Romance
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