Am I...

“I’ll go get Chris to make us some dinner,” he suggests.

Oh.Food.

“Sounds good,” I smile, hoping he didn’t catch the hunger I thought he meant in my stare before the realization hit me.

But when he leans in close to me, I know I’ve been caught.

“You’re absolutely insatiable,dirtygirl,” he whispers only loud enough for me to hear. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

My clit throbs at the sudden change to my nickname. Before I can suggest we leave and grab food later, Drew wishes the girls a successful evening, and we exit the dressing room.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

DELILAH

Itried returning to work the following week. But I wasn’t even five minutes into my shift before the trauma of the attack rendered me useless.

I began pacing the store, mumbling like an idiot, and scaring our customers before a full-blown panic attack set in. Sienna called Drew to let him know, and he came to get me right away.

She was nicer to me than she’d been before the incident, sitting in the back room and trying to comfort me in between helping customers. For that I was grateful.

But even being back in her good graces and feeling like I had an ally at the store, I couldn’t bring myself to face the reminder of what happened there.

Anxious to move on and needing something easy to slide into, I felt like my best option was to take Drew up on his offer and become a waitress at Spotlight. He joked around and told me I need to start listening to him more often. That, so far, all of his ideas have worked out to my benefit.

And after three weeks as Spotlight’s newest waitress, I’d have to agree with him. I’ve already made more money in tips here than I made in the two months I worked at Mathieu.

If that wasn’t a good enough reason to feel like I made the right decision, the fact that I’ve already grown to feel accepted by the family Drew spoke so highly of is. That’s something I didn’t anticipate happening in such a short amount of time.

Everyone has welcomed me with open arms. I suspect it’s partly because Drew and I are together, but that’s a detail I keep to myself. Drew has been so proud of the way I’ve navigated this change and worked through my initial discomfort of working in this type of establishment—and wearing barely any clothing in public.

But both the other girls as well as Spotlight’s clientele have helped me get over those worries almost as much as Drew has. They’ve encouraged me with their complimentary words as well as their generous tips.

But my life still isn’t complete. And while Maggie and I have been talking a little more frequently lately, I’ve found myself withholding the truth of my new life from her.

I thought it was going to be hard for me to tell her that I moved in with Drew, but now to try to explain how I ended up working atSpotlight?

Impossible.

Regardless of the attack or my position here, she’d never understand or accept that I came to work at a strip club. She’d surely blame it on Drew like she blamed my wanting to move out on him.

Plus, Royce canneverknow. Especially not about the attack. He’d go apeshit.

So when I read Maggie’s latest text message, I groan, knowing I’ll have to feed her another lie.

Let’s do lunch tomorrow. I miss you. It's been too long since we’ve hung out.

Seeing as I’m working a double shift tomorrow, I won’t be able to make it. Surprisingly, we get quite a few early birds in right around eleven, when we open.

I can’t tomorrow, we have inventory at the store, and I won’t be able to get away for lunch.

Before I’m able to offer another suggestion, I’m startled suddenly by a light touch on my back and a low growl in my ear.

“No phones on the floor, naughty girl,” Drew’s voice is thick with lust as he traces his finger along the waistband of my bottoms. As always happens when he’s in this kind of mood, my blood begins to thrum with a hunger only he can satisfy. “I should take you in my office and give you a spanking.”

I look around to make sure we aren’t being watched or overheard, but everyone in the vicinity is either focused on the stage or the company they came with.