Tiny Dancer [Divine Creek Ranch 13] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (20 page)

“You’re stronger than me. You’d have to be to pole dance.”

“That came with practice. Charlotta was the perfect ideal, in my mind. Tall, willowy, and beautiful. When I mentioned my own thoughts on my shape, she encouraged me and I got the job. Jake, my old boss, liked having a wide variety of dancers working for him, so his club would have wider appeal. In chatting with men—”

“Chatting?”

Camilla giggled. “Part of my job was talking to them in between dances. They’d buy the girls drinks and we’d chat with them.”

“Oh, I can imagine the kinds of things they wanted to
talk
about.”

Camilla cocked her head and smiled at Lucy. “Not all men are dogs. Many of them were very nice to me.” Lucy bit her lip and listened. Camilla wondered who had hurt Lucy so badly that she’d turned her hurt feelings on men in general.

“I haven’t had many good experiences with men. None, actually.” Lucy slumped in her seat as she spoke. Several customers came in the door and took seats at the bar or moved on to tables.

“A lot of men really like a woman with meat on her bones, Lucy. Yeah, I was firm all over”—she patted her ass and her upper arms—“but that came with practice. If you’re really asking me what it is that makes certain women appealing to lots of men, I don’t think it has anything to do with what size or how tall they are. It has to do with their spirit, and what shows in their eyes. Curves alone are not as appealing as curves plus confidence.”

“Getting that confidence is the problem, I guess.” Lucy took another healthy sip of her margarita.

“You know, I’ve watched you, and when you’re on the dance floor, self-confidence doesn’t seem to be a problem at all. It seemed to me like you and Vance hit it off pretty well a month or so back. What happened?”

Lucy shrugged. “It was pointed out to me that there’s quite a lot of me to go around.”

“I’ll personally kick Vance’s ass if he’s the one who told you that bullshit.”

“No, Vance is fine. Really fine. Fine, fine,
fine
. He’s just a player is all.”

Camilla had to chuckle at that astute observation. “Well, whoever told you that or hinted at it is an asshole. Plus, they’re dead wrong. You just need to get comfortable with your own body.”

Lucy’s attention was focused solely on her as she leaned closer. “Yeah? Any suggestions?”

“I’ve been thinking about offering striptease lessons here at the club during the hours when we’re not open for business. Grace and a couple of the others have been asking me about it. It would help you learn to enjoy your curves.” She ran her hands down her rib cage and then over her hips and shimmied a bit.

Lucy grinned. “Grace mentioned to me a few days ago that you’d given her and Rachel lessons before.”

Camilla giggled. “I did. I’ll let you know when they start. Until then, try going naked for a weekend. Draw the blinds and curtains, and go naked the whole time. Fix your hair, pamper your body, whatever makes you feel good about yourself, and see how you feel on Monday morning. You could also play a little. Everything you do that puts you in tune with your body will boost your—”

“Play?”

Camilla nodded as Lucy’s cheeks turned bright red. “Sure. Order some toys, books, or videos from an online adult toy store…and play.” She darted a glance at Ben and Quinten and found them watching her with singular interest.

“Oh, good Lord. I’m about to give in to the pervy Divine mind-set, aren’t I?”

Camilla snorted with laughter. “Come to the dark side. We have chocolate…and lube.”

“So recommend a good sex toy Web site to me, Camilla.”

Camilla was about to speak when her bartender radar went off. Patrick Owen sat right next to Lucy, who evidently hadn’t noticed that they’d gained an avid audience to their conversation. “Hi, Patrick, how are you this evening?” Lucy suddenly looked around as though searching for someone else and then sagged in relief. Beck O’Malley usually hung out at the long curving bar with Patrick but he was missing at the moment. Understanding dawned on Camilla.

“Pretty good, Camilla. How about a double Crown and water and a refill of whatever the lady is having. If she’s amenable, that is.”

Camilla glanced at Lucy for confirmation, giving her the don’t-be-a-chickenshit stare. This was a perfect chance for her to try out her newfound resolve. Lucy looked over at Patrick and then nodded at Camilla.

She heard Lucy’s soft “thank you” as she reached for the bottle behind the bar. Ben sidled up to her with his arms crossed over his chest. Her nipples peaked with awareness as his gaze flicked up and down her body.
I thought I could fight my attraction to him? Was I crazy?

In a soft voice, he said, “Why is it that you’re even hotter in those tight jeans and boots than you were half naked dressed in short-shorts?”

“Aw, these old things? Maybe it’s because now you’re picturing me naked…
accurately
. Besides, it’s colder than a well-digger’s ass outside.” The first decent cold front of the year had blown in behind the storms, and she didn’t want to tempt fate.

The car dealership had been able to fix the problem that had caused her Camaro to break down and get it back to her that afternoon so she had transportation. When Ben and Quinten had made a move to pay for the repair, she’d put her foot down and taken care of the bill herself, which was only right. It was her problem. That was why she had an emergency fund.

“Quinten was betting me that you were talking about stripping to Lucy.”

“He’d have won that bet. I need to talk to y’all about using the dance floor during nonbusiness hours. I’ve been getting a lot of requests for striptease lessons lately.”

“Is our dance floor big enough?”

“A woman can strip in a much smaller space if she’s of a mind to,” she replied with a smirk and a snicker.

“Hell, don’t remind me. I won’t be able to walk upright.” She giggled when he repositioned himself after turning away from the sparse but happily occupied crowd at the bar. “As long as you’re not actually stripping naked, that’s fine with me. I’ll let Ethan know and see what he says.”

“Thank you, handsome.” She winked at him when he grinned at her and returned to what he’d been doing earlier.

Turning her attention to mixing Patrick’s drink, she glanced in the mirror and then smiled to herself. Lucy was carrying on a quiet conversation with him.

Camilla liked Patrick a lot. He was easy to get along with, never caused any trouble in the club, never drank to excess. Except for the night he’d discovered his wife, at the time, had been having an affair and had a baby with another man. On top of that, she’d plotted misdeeds against the women who ran Discretion Boutique in Morehead, and who were also Camilla’s friends. He’d gotten plastered that night. Since then, he’d kept himself out of trouble and mostly sat and talked with Beck O’Malley, who was absent that night.

Camilla sensed that Beck O’Malley was somehow a part of Lucy’s struggle with self-confidence. Beck was as sweet as they came, but the man had a gift for putting his foot in his mouth.

Camilla placed their drinks in front of them and left them to their conversation as she quickly washed the dirty glasses that had accumulated by the sink and refilled the frozen margarita machine. The slow pace of the evening gave her time to think about the events of the last couple of days, and she smiled. She’d always enjoyed working with Ben and Quinten because both men were so laid-back and solid. She could now look back at their occasional confrontations over the last few months and see that they’d been struggling with the attraction as much as she had. Seen through that light, their behavior, although unbearably Neanderthal at times, was understandable.

At least they weren’t as bad as Tyler had been at the Dollhouse before he’d been arrested and sent to prison. His jealousy made Ben and Quinten look like a couple of pussycats by comparison. All a man had to do, whether fellow employee or club patron, was accidentally touch her or brush against her and he became volatile.

As the evening progressed, Camilla noticed that Ben hung around a couple of hours past the time he normally went home on a Monday night. When there was a break in the activity at the bar, she slipped into his office. Quinten winked at her from his position at the bar as he chatted with Bill Duggan, and she smiled at him before closing the door behind her.

“Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be at home relaxing?”

Ben looked up from the paperwork on his desk and gave her a sexy smile that sent a wave of heat rippling through her.

His gaze travelled slowly up and down her body as he leaned back in his desk chair. She glanced down and could see the sexy bulge at his groin as he shifted slightly in the seat. Lust sizzled through her as he met her gaze. In a husky, deep drawl, he said, “And just rattle around the house by my lonesome?”

“Poor baby.” She skirted his desk, conscious that if the door was opened, many of the people sitting at the bar would be able to see the two of them. Ben rolled backward in the chair and pulled her into his lap when she came within reach.

“Don’t feel too sorry for me.” His warm breath whispered against her throat as he spoke. The memory of how it had felt against her pussy that morning when he’d awakened her from sweet dreams made her wet for him all over again.

He gathered a handful of her hair and gently tilted her head back for his kiss, seeking her lips as he wrapped his arms all around her. Captured in his strong embrace, she felt safe and secure as his tongue dueled with hers, creating a sensual hum inside her. She forgot all about the office door and no longer cared if anyone walked in.

His cock swelled beneath her, and her pussy tingled as she remembered the way he’d lifted her as though she were as light as a feather and impaled her with that monster the night before. He took charge of the moment, but his manner wasn’t pushy. He just seemed to know what she needed without her explaining.

“So you’d rather stay up at work?”

“I never cared much for hanging around an empty house.”

She looked up at him, and something in his expression moved her to say, “You always struck me as the type that would be comfortable as a lone wolf.”

Ben shook his head. “No, did quite a bit of that growing up and in my early twenties.”

She sat up and looked directly into his eyes. “You helped me the other night. I didn’t really appreciate it afterwards, but I do now. Do you want to talk about it?”

Ben smiled at her and the warmth in his eyes didn’t fool her a bit. He wasn’t any more comfortable talking about his family than she was. “Not really. It’s all in the past. I knew I had all this paperwork to get caught up on, and I like being around you, especially now, so I stayed a bit late. It’s not a big deal.”

“All right.” She rose from his lap and turned to him, nearly nose to nose. “But I reserve the right to peel
your
onion, if the moment warrants it.”

Ben chuckled and kissed her nose. “Duly noted, sugar. I’m hungry and thought I’d go get us some supper. You hungry?”

“I could eat a little something.”

“Well, once I can stand without everyone knowing I have a hard-on for you, I’ll go get us all a bite to eat. Pizza sound okay?”

“Perfect.”

Five minutes later, Ben came back in the rear door of the nightclub and approached the bar, consternation written all over his face. He had his phone to his ear, and Camilla’s heart sped up when he made a beeline for her and motioned for her to come close, and then he tucked the phone back into his pocket.

“Sugar, I’ve got bad news.”

“What?”
I’m not sure I can handle more bad news.

“It’s your car. Someone’s trashed it. Broke into it and tore up the inside of it.” He came around the end of the bar and slipped through the opening. “I’ve called Hank, and he’s coming over right now.”

“My car? How bad is it?”

“I didn’t touch anything, in case there are fingerprints, but it was torn up.”

“My leather seats?” Ben nodded and then hugged her when she couldn’t help the quiver in her lip. She loved those white leather seats.

Quinten came over, stroked her back, and asked, “What’s wrong? I thought you were going for pizza.” When Ben was done telling him, he said, “This seems to coincide with the break-in at Camilla’s house…and her recent car troubles.”

“The console was broken and the dash was torn up, too. They also ripped the lining out of the trunk.”

“I set the alarm. I wonder why we didn’t hear it.”

“As thick as the walls are in this place, we might not have if he’d come equipped to disable it. The steering column was intact. He didn’t try to start it.”

Hank arrived, and they went with him out the back door, and Camilla cringed when she saw what had been done to her pretty car. Yes, it was just a car, and she was glad nobody had been injured, but it still hurt nonetheless.

Damn it!

In addition to what Ben had told her, the pretty aluminum rims had been removed and cast aside, and the trunk liner hung out in tatters. The headliner that lined the ceiling had been cut with something very sharp and left in shreds. The doors were left wide open, the door panels dangling by wires to the electric window switches.