Shadoe pushed her hair away from her face. “Wow. It certainly seems that way, doesn’t it? And thanks.”

She took a seat at the long black table and it didn’t take seconds for about six guys to sit down with her, their faces eager.

What? Did they expect her to strip at the table? Not fucking likely.

“How about a drink?” she finally asked.

At least she knew what to do.

They fell over themselves getting a drink for her. Spence rolled his eyes. The next hour went that way, while Spence took up position behind her, watching for anyone who got too close or thought they could put his hands on her. Typically his glare would put anyone off, but the few brave ones who pushed their luck got removed in a hurry.

Shadoe left after the first hour so she could take a break before her second show at one. He led her to the bar and she took a seat at the end spot.

“Feel okay?”

She grinned. “I feel great.”

“You should. You’re the star tonight.”

Her lashes dipped before she tilted her head to look at him. “I don’t know about that, but wow, it sure was way more than I expected.”

“You did a great job. You were hot.”

Her smile hit him right in the balls. “I’m glad you thought so.”

“Everyone thought so.”

“But I’m glad you thought so.”

He lifted his hand to the back of her neck again. “Your tension seems to be gone.”

Her body vibrated with her laugh. “Yes. You did a fine job taking care of that. Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

She laid her palm against his cheek. “I’ll see to your pleasure. Later.”

His nostrils flared. He leaned into her. “You make my dick hard.”

“I hope so.”

Her second act was as good, if not better, than the first. Like the show in Dallas, she wore the leather with the fringe and drove the guys into an even higher-pitched frenzy.

There was no doubt about it—Desi was a hit.

“She’s rockin’ hot as hell,” Brandon said to him after Shadoe finished up her second act.

“That she is.”

“You are one lucky man.”

“That I am.”

“I’ll bet you stay busy keeping all the guys away from her.”

“Yes.”

“You trust her?”

He snapped his gaze to Brandon’s inquisitive face. “What does that mean?”

Brandon raised his hands. “Simple question. A lot of the girls get swelled heads from all the attention. The boyfriend thing rarely lasts.”

“We’ve been together . . . awhile. We’re doing just fine.”

“Okay. Just checking.”

“You looking for a date, Brandon? Because if it’s with my woman, we’re going to have a problem.” He couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation. Spence typically didn’t give a shit how many guys a girl dated. He wasn’t around one long enough to find out, or to care.

Even though this was his cover and nothing more, Brandon’s suggestion and innuendo pissed him off.

“Not at all, man. Just making conversation, trying to get to know one of my dancers. I’m not interested in her, trust me.” Brandon did a double-time backpedal, then made excuses to hurry off and head back to his office.

Good thing, because owner or no, Spence was seconds from connecting his fist to Brandon’s face.

Which wouldn’t do much good for the mission, would it? He had to keep this from getting personal, on a lot of fronts.

Once again, Shadoe came out, this time dressed in some hot green skirt and belly-baring top that clung tight to her curves. She took her table and let the guys come to her, and they did, in droves. Spence stood guard over her while she was gracious and friendly and kept them drinking, which would probably make Brandon really happy.

This part of it was fine, as long as the guys didn’t touch.

Touching the girls was off-limits, especially a headliner. You could look, you could talk to them, but you couldn’t touch. There were always some guys who thought those rules didn’t apply to them, like the one sitting beside Shadoe right now. Slick, a little older, Spence pegged him right away as a regular, someone who knew all the girls, as well as all the employees at the club. He probably got granted “special favors,” like opportunities to visit one-on-one with the headliners.

In fact, the guy nodded to one of the bouncers as soon as he took his seat next to Shadoe, and the bouncer nodded back and moved toward Spence. No doubt his intent was to distract Spence so the slick dude could put his moves on Shadoe.

Spence had been working the grift longer than anyone. He knew the game. But he let the bouncer move up next to him, just to see how he planned to play it.

“Your woman is popular.”

Spence nodded. “She always has been, even before she became a headliner.”

“Piss you off, having all these guys hang on her?”

“I know where she sleeps at night.”

The bouncer turned to him. “I’m Lance.”

“Spence.” He didn’t take his gaze off Shadoe.

“My wife dances here.”

That got his attention. “Yeah? Who?”

“Cheri. Tall blonde.”

“Oh yeah. Pretty.”

Lance nodded. “She’s lead dancer here.”

“And how long have you two been together?”

“Five years. We’ve been at the Wild Rose for three.”

“Work together all the time?”

“Hell yeah. I need to keep an eye on my investment.”

His investment? Like his wife was property? What a dickhead.

Shadoe coughed and his gaze went immediately to her. He crouched down, certain he was going to have to pummel the asshole sitting next to her.

“What’s up, babe?”

“Remind me later to tell you something,” she whispered in his ear.

“You got it.” To make a point, he gave her a deep kiss, lingering longer than necessary. When he pulled back, her eyes were glazed and she gave him a promising smile and sigh.

He straightened and Lance was still there.

“What was that all about?”

“Just keeping an eye on my investment,” he said, tossing Lance’s words back at him.

Whatever was going on between Lance and the guy sitting next to Shadoe, it never materialized. But maybe that’s because Spence moved off to Shadoe’s right and made eye contact with the guy. Unpleasant eye contact. Long enough and hard enough that the guy grew uncomfortable and left the table. Soon after that, Lance left, too.

By three in the morning he’d had all he could take of guys jockeying for position to be near Shadoe. She’d left the table and wandered around for a while, visiting with people at each of the tables and at the bar, but the crowds finally began to thin.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

She nodded. “I’m more than ready for that. Let me go change.”

He was ready, too—to get Shadoe alone. Watching her parade around in tight clothes, and then strip twice, had him hot, hard, and bothered as hell. By the time she came out the back door, he had the bike engine revving.

She cocked a brow and climbed on. “You in a hurry?”

“Yes. Get on.”

She did, and he broke speed records getting back to the hotel.

She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him, her breasts pressing against his back.

“You are in a hurry, aren’t you? You need something?”

When he didn’t answer, she moved her hands down over his ribs. “I know what you need.” She laid her hands on his thighs and squeezed. “I wish I could reach your cock from here.”

He groaned and hit the throttle, rocketing them through the stoplight. Good thing the hotel was only a couple blocks away. He pulled into the parking garage, took her hand, and pulled her along back up to their room, not saying a word.

He couldn’t speak, his throat as tight as his balls. He slid the key card into the door slot and held the door open for her. She walked in and he shut the door behind them, watching her as she dropped her bag, then sauntered out onto the balcony. She cast him a knowing look over her shoulder, a glimpse of a smile, then disappeared through the double doors.

He followed. She stood there bathed in the moonlight, visible for anyone to see.

“Out here?”

She nodded.

He wasn’t going to ask twice. He walked farther out onto the balcony and grasped her wrist, pulled her into the darkness, then flipped her around, slammed her back into the wall, and put his mouth over hers.

She wrapped her arms around him. Her lips latched on to his with a hungry passion that matched his own, surprising him with its power. He expected her to be tired, to say no, to at least be surprised by his assault, not to equal his need.

But she did. She wrapped a leg around his hip and rocked her pelvis against him.

His cock was already hard, had been from the minute he’d tasted her mouth. Now it was a raging desire that couldn’t be stopped. He stripped off her shirt, glad she hadn’t worn a bra. He filled his hands with her breasts, then kneeled on the concrete floor and filled his mouth with her nipples. He’d wanted to taste them for as long as he’d known her, since that first day she’d stripped for him and revealed those tight nipples and perfect breasts. He flicked his tongue over one hard bud, then pulled it into his mouth and sucked. It felt like soft velvet, and she tasted like sweet cream, just like he knew the rest of her would. He couldn’t wait to go down on her, needing her flavor against his tongue. He kissed his way down her ribs and her belly, jerking at the zipper of her jeans, fumbling it like he had back when he was a teenager and inexperienced. God, how old was he, anyway? And why were his hands shaking? This wasn’t his first time. He should be suave about this, not in a hurry at all, but taking his time getting to know her body.

Yeah, right. He yanked her jeans down to her ankles, pulled her panties off, and covered her sex with his mouth.

She moaned, and her body jerked as his tongue found her clit. She tangled her fingers in his hair and grasped it in her fist, holding tight while he sucked the little bud, nibbled it with his teeth, licked her all over, and slid his tongue inside her creamy pussy.

“Jesus, Spence. That’s just so . . . Oh, oh, I’m coming.” She bucked against his face and shuddered, crying out with the force of her quick, rushing orgasm.

He really liked to hear and feel her come, to taste the juice rolling onto his tongue from her climax, to know that he brought her there so damn fast she couldn’t hold back.

In the darkness, he heard her panting, felt the sheen of sweat on her thighs as he held on to her, continued to kiss her thighs, her hip bone, making his way back up her body.

He kissed her breasts again, loving the way they fit into his mouth, the way her nipples hardened when he sucked them, the way her heart beat erratically against his hand as he held on to her.

He met her mouth with his in a hungry kiss, ready to swoop her into his arms and carry her to bed. But when he pulled her away from the wall, she turned him around and pushed him against the cool brick.

“My turn,” she said, her voice a dark, husky whisper. “Do you think I’m going to miss the opportunity to stay outside a little longer?”

“I think you’re an exhibitionist.”

Her lips tilted. “Maybe I am.”

She didn’t seem to mind being naked on the balcony. Maybe she wanted people to see them. His cock jerked against his pants. Yeah, he was in a hurry to be inside her. Whether it was on the balcony, in the bed, or on the floor, he didn’t care.

She lifted his shirt off, her hands everywhere—across his shoulders, his neck, his chest—and all followed by her sweet, hot mouth. She kissed him with wild abandon, bit him, tasted him, licked at his nipples and sucked at them the way he’d suckled hers. He shuddered as the sensation shot straight to his cock, making it quiver in anticipation.




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