Trashy (Take It Off #10)(10)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“It’s my ticket out.”

“Your ticket out of what?” he asked. I could tell he was slightly surprised.

“Forget it,” I muttered and stood.

Adam snatched my hand and pulled me around, into his personal space. He sat on the edge of his desk and pulled me between his knees.

I could feel the heat of his thighs against my hips.

His personal space was very… personal. Very delicious.

“Your ticket out of what, Rox?” he asked again.

I looked up into his molten eyes. “Out of this life. To something better. To college.”

He rubbed his thumb across my knuckles as he listened to my words. “College, huh?”

I nodded.

“What you wanna study?”

I glanced away. I don’t know why I felt so embarrassed around him. Adam let go of my hand and put his fingers beneath my chin, lifting my face so he could look at me.

“I want to be a nurse,” I said.

“Well, that beautiful face of yours sure would distract people from pain.”

My breath caught because of his closeness, because of the sincerity in his tone. “That was a pretty good compliment.” I smiled.

“Why were you taking shots behind the bar tonight?” he asked, low, his tone gentle and non-accusatory.

“It was only one.” I corrected. I lifted a shoulder. “Bad day.”

“You know I’m not gonna fire you.” His thumb was back to stroking just below my lower lip.

I nodded. I knew.

“Five hundred a night.” He tossed the number out there like it was change.

I caught my breath. That was a lot for a management position. Yeah, I might make a little more a week dancing, especially on busy nights, but if I worked six nights a week, that would be three grand.

“How many nights?” I asked.

“As many as you want.” He dropped his hand, and I swear for a moment I thought he was going to curl his palm around my hip. My body anticipated it, so when his hand returned to his lap, I was starkly disappointed.

“Okay.” I agreed. It was good money, and I wouldn’t have to take off my clothes anymore.

“Yeah?” He grinned, lopsided and boyish. My heart totally melted.

I nodded. “Like you gave me a choice,” I teased.

“Hey.” He caught me around the elbow, drawing my attention. “You always have a choice with me. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, soft. “I know.” And I did. He might have threatened to fire me to get his way, but if I really didn’t want the job, he wouldn’t have turned me out.

I started to take off his jacket. I was warm and mostly dry by that point. He shook his head. “Leave it.”

“But it’s yours.”

“You can use it as an umbrella tonight on the way to your car.”

I didn’t point out it might not be raining later. The idea of having something of his was just entirely too enticing.

“So when do I start?” I asked, leaving the jacket on.

“Now.”

“But I’m on the schedule to dance tonight.”

He shrugged.

“Me not dancing tonight would be bad business, and you know it.” I pointed out.

A muscle in the side of his jaw ticked. “Fine, but get the girls to cover the rest of the week. Tonight’s your last night on the stage.”

“Okay,” I said, grabbing up my stuff to go in the back and change. I needed to make all I could tonight.

He didn’t say anything else as I left his office, but I felt his eyes follow me as I went. I didn’t think about his stare because I was too busy thinking about his actions. Why all of the sudden did it seem Adam didn’t want me to dance anymore?

6

Adam

I couldn’t decide what was harder to look at: Roxie looking shaken and soaking wet with blood on her face, or Roxie being engulfed by my jacket.

Both sights were practically impossible to see, for very different reasons.

When she rushed into the Mad Hatter tonight, my eyes went right to her. I always knew when Roxie was around. I felt her before I ever saw her. It didn’t matter if we were in the same room or not, her presence was never lost on me.

It wasn’t every night she came in looking like she’d fallen out of a boat in the middle the sea. Her hair was wet and tangled, her clothes saturated and plastered to her lithe frame, and her shoes were soaked through.

At first I thought it might be kind of cute, until she went for the vodka. Roxie didn’t drink on the job; she was the most professional stripper I’d ever had in this club. So when she retrieved the vodka and downed it without a second thought, I knew something was wrong.

And then I saw the blood on her lip.

It made me pissed and suspicious. I knew her ex was a loser, and my stomach tightened to think maybe he’d gotten hold of her again. But I knew better. I knew Roxie wasn’t back with him. I paid attention to her, more than she realized.

And yeah, maybe I checked with Harlow every once in a while.

I wished there was more I could do, but if she insisted it was only an accident, I would take her at her word.

For now.

As soon as I banked the raging protective instincts she always brought out in me, I noticed how see-through her saturated dress was. I noticed the hard pebbles in the middle of her fucking perfect tits. How was a man supposed to keep control of the brain in his head and in his pants when she was walking around looking like that?

The misery in her eyes was my control. She was clearly having a rough night, and she was freezing. Covering her up with my coat would not only save my cock from embarrassing me, but also give her some comfort.

Too bad she looked just as sexy drowning in my clothes as she did standing there wet.

Beautiful women were part of my job. Mostly naked, gyrating women were something I saw every single night in this club. In my twenty-five years, I’d seen a lot of hot bodies and sexy females. Hell, I’d been married to four of them.

But it didn’t matter because not one of those women knew how to hold my attention.

Except Roxie.

From the minute I first saw her walk into the Mad Hatter looking for a job, I knew there was something different about her. Something that no other woman I’d met had.

I still didn’t know exactly what that something was, and it didn’t matter. Even unidentified, she still completely captivated me.

But I didn’t date my dancers. Ever.

And at the time, I had been married to wife number two. Then three. Then four.

I’d known she’d had a boyfriend, but never gave him much thought, until the whispers started going around backstage. Whispers that eventually trickled into my office.