Page 13 of Dust to Dust

With a nod, Kellan replied, “Men like Sean are hard to find.”

Six months ago one of our warehouses by the docks was firebombed. We lost Sean, who was one of our best supervisors as well as our close friend.

The bathroom door opened, and Dare appeared with a leggy brunette. A broad smile lit up his face. “Afternoon, brother.”

“Afternoon,” I muttered dryly.

After smacking the brunette’s ass, he replied, “See you later, Crystal.”

“Christie,” she corrected.

“Right, right.”

While I snorted at Christie flouncing out of the room in a huff, Kellan shook his head. “You’re a pig.”

He grinned. “Come on. I was pretty close.”

With a roll of his eyes, Kellan stared back at his laptop. A ding echoed on all our phones. I glanced down at mine. “Callum’s on his way up.”

As Kellan closed his laptop, Dare and I took a seat at the table. After Kellan passed us each a copy of the monthly report, Dare cocked his brows. “Looks like between here and Bandia, I’ll be able to open my casino sooner than later.”

Studying the numbers, I replied, “Looks like it.”

Callum swept through the door then. “How’s it looking, boys?” he asked.

Kellan grinned while shoving a red folder at him “Grand as always.”

As Callum quickly perused the folder’s documents, he replied, “I’m glad to hear it.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to say thanks, would it?” Kellan teasingly questioned.

While I couldn’t help rolling my eyes at his cheek, Dare countered, “Get fucked, boyo. You’re not even old enough to have a drink here. It’s Quinn and I that keep this place afloat.”

With a scowl, Kellan countered, “I will be of age in three months.”

After ruffling Kellan’s hair, I countered, “Then keep yer trap shut until then.”

Callum pointed at me. “Speaking of running this place. I’ve got an audition for you.”

As Boston’s finest gentlemen’s club with millionaires and billionaires for clients, we were barraged with applications from dancers. With all the area colleges, we received the high-end coeds who had years of rigorous dance training under their belts. But it wasn’t just dance ability that made a stripper, nor was it their pole aptitude. It came down to whether they could make every man feel desired and special.

When we’d first started the club, Callum had decided that I would be the ringer. The maker or breaker when it came to hiring. If they could successfully give me a lap dance without pissing themselves in fear, then they were hired.

It wasn’t about my physical appearance at the time either. The club came before the bombing. No, it was about the fact that I possessed an aura that drove fear into women. I guess it went with being the family’s enforcer.

But in the last year, it started grating on my nerves. I was tired of having beautiful young women balk at riding my dick. I’d never admit it to my brothers, but it was starting to give me a fucking complex.

I couldn’t fight the growl that reverberated through my chest. “I’m not a fucking plaything you can trot out when it serves your purpose.”

Callum snorted. “As if anyone could ever think of you like that.”

“I’m serious, Callum.”

“I know. But I need your services.”

At my continued hesitation, Dare clapped me on the back. “You’re the only man I know who begrudges a lap dance from a fine as hell woman.”

“Fuck you,” I muttered.

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