Page 14 of Dust to Dust

“Quinn’s not the only one who would,” Callum remarked.

Dare’s brows rose questioningly. “Who else?”

He eased back in his chair with a smile. “Me.”

Since Callum had married Caterina, he hadn’t partaken in any lap dances. He was completely true to his wife, which still shocked the hell out of me. None of us, except for Kellan, had ever truly fancied monogamy.

When his phone buzzed, Callum grimaced at it. “Speak of the devil?” Dare questioned with a grin.

“Yeah, she had a doctor’s appointment earlier.”

Scowling at him, I countered, “Shouldn’t you ask the wee lass how it went?”

“She already let me know everything was fine.”

When I continued scowling at him, Callum sighed. “Look, she’s asking to come see me at the office. There’s no way in hell I can tell her where I’m at.”

Dare’s brows popped. “Sister Sassy doesn’t know we own this club?”

Rolling his eyes at him, Callum replied, “Caterina would lose her mind if she knew about this place. In her book, I already have enough vices on my plate. There would be nothing of my dark soul left to salvage if she found out.”

While Dare chuckled, I tsked at him. “You’re just digging your grave deeper for when she does find out.”

“I believe you have a dancer waiting to ride your dick.” He wagged his eyebrows at me. “Her pole dance was to some shite Taylor Swift song.”

My growl echoed through the room. “I’ll pay you back for this, fucker.”

Callum grinned as he rose out of his chair. “I look forward to it.”

Chapter Three: Isla

As I eyed my reflection in the mirror, I tried hiding my disgust at the voluptuous bombshell that stared back at me. Brooke had gone above and beyond when it came to making me flawless for my audition. She worked tirelessly until my blonde hair cascaded in loose waves down to my butt.

Then she started on my makeup. She’d given me fluffy eyelashes and glittering eyelids with purple eyeshadow that matched my sequined purple bustier and g-string set.

Frowning, I surveyed my bright red lips. “Are you sure the lipstick isn’t a bit too much?”

Brooke shook her head. “The stage lights will wash you out. You want your lips to show up above all else. You want them thinking of your lips around their dick.”

“Ugh, seriously?”

With a roll of her eyes, Brooke replied, “And there’s yet another reason why I can’t believe you think you’re going to be a stripper.”

“Dancer.”

“Semantics.”

“Just because I don’t want to think about random dudes' dicks doesn’t mean I can’t be a stripper.”

Rolling her eyes, Brooke replied, “Seriously? The whole job is thinking about dudes and their dicks.”

“Whatever. Can I get dressed now?”

“One sec.” Brooke then spritzed a setting spray on my makeup. “Now you’re good.”

I pulled on a wrap dress over my sparkling undies. When I was done, I slipped on a pair of what I liked to call my power heels. When you’re barely 5’3, you need all the help you can get.

When I hurried out of the bathroom, Brooke was waiting with a bag that contained my stripper heels, a replacement bustier and g-string for the audition in case something broke or ripped, and my makeup bag for touch-ups.

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