Trusting You (26 page)

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Adam said, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me back into his side. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I’m driving home after this.”

“Okay, I’ll drink. You can watch.”

“With smooth lines like that, you must be on your way to wife number three,” I blurted out, then slapped my hand over my lips.
Oh my God! Did I just insult him?

He threw back his head and laughed. Then he slung an arm around my shoulders and led me to the final barstools. “Actually, I’m on wife number four.”

If I were him, I wouldn’t have willingly admitted that out loud.

“So, Harlow. Why do you want to be a stripper?”

“Well, it’s my lifelong dream,” I said, pressing a hand to my chest and batting my eyes.

“Uh-huh,” he said as the bartender set a drink in front of him. He picked it up and took a sip, studying me over the rim of the glass.

I sighed. “I need the money.”

He nodded. “Do you have experience?”

“Well, no. But I undress myself every day, and that seems to be the most important thing I need to know.”

He laughed again. “I like you.”

That probably wasn’t a good thing.

“Tell you what. You come in tomorrow night at seven. I’ll give you a trial run. If you can take it off like a pro, then the job is yours.”

“How much is the pay?” I asked.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“You and how good you work the crowd.”

Work the crowd?

“See you at seven tomorrow night,” Adam said, stood up, downed the entire contents of his glass, and then walked away.

Did I just get hired as a stripper?

Oh my God, I just got a job as a stripper.
Well, assuming anyone wanted to see me half naked.

Speaking of, I turned and looked over my shoulder. The blond was still gyrating herself all over the place, now wearing nothing but a G-string. I’m sorry, but how did that not hurt? I mean, really, it was practically flossing her butt.

I spun back around and put my head in my hands. I felt the heavy thud of something in front of me, so I looked up.

It was a shot glass. I watched as the bartender filled it with vodka. “You look like you could use this.”

I looked up, a little higher than the glass, and caught a set of bronzed rock-solid abs. My eyes lingered and then traveled upward, past the rippling muscles, the smooth, defined chest, past the black bowtie around his neck to finally land on his face.

I understood now why his body was so mouthwatering.

A face like that could only be attached to near perfection. Square, smooth jawline, prominent nose and cheekbones, full lips, olive-toned, sun-kissed skin, and eyes that looked like melted chocolate. I couldn’t tell what color hair he had because he wore a black fedora that was slightly tilted to one side, giving him a devilish air.

If he were an all-you-can-eat buffet, I’d unbutton the top of my jeans and dig in.

I stared at him dumbly, my brain refusing to form a cohesive thought, so I knew speaking wasn’t going to happen.

He smiled, placing his hands palm down on the bar and leaning over the top slightly, bringing his manly goodness a little closer. “Bottoms up.”

“I’m not drinking tonight,” I said, proud that I found my voice.

His dark eyes swept over my face and he smiled. Then, still watching me, he picked up the shot glass and emptied it all into his mouth in one great gulp. He set it back down in front of me. “Most girls would have just taken the shot.”

“I’m not most girls.”

He leaned both elbows on the bar and stared at me. “So I see.”

A little shiver raced up my spine. It was one of those shivers that felt so delicious I just wanted to have another. The sound of his voice was like the roar of a lion, the growl of an alpha, because it churned up some primal instinct in me to obey his every command.

Man, this place was starting to make me crazy. I had to get out of here.

“Thanks for the drink,” I said, spinning the stool around and getting ready to hop off.

“So you’re the new dancer?”

I glanced over my shoulder, looking around the curtain of my chestnut-colored hair. “That depends.”

“On?”

“On whether or not I have the guts to show up tomorrow night.”

A slow smile curved his lips. “Well, I sure hope you do.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing more of you.”

The bottom dropped out of my stomach and I’m pretty sure my cheeks turned bright pink. He chuckled, the low sound carrying over every other sound in the place and echoing through the deepest parts of my mind.

Then he picked up the empty shot glass and turned around. “See ya around,” he said, tossing the words over his broad shoulder.

It wasn’t until I was outside fumbling around with my car keys that I wondered if he meant he actually wanted to see
me
again… or just the parts of me I dared to bare.