Page 92 of Bad Boy Next Door
Stan grabbed my hair and bent me forward, pulling so hard I thought my scalp might come off in his hand. “Suck my dick, bitch. Or maybe I’ll fuck your ass instead.” He reached past me to lock the door of the office.
I twisted against the pain in my scalp and grabbed his junk with my hand, digging my fingers into his balls.
His hold on my hair loosened. “Like it rough, do you? Figures.” He threw me against the wall, and I landed hard.
Stunned, I was almost back on my feet when he grabbed my hair again, pulling my head back and slamming it against the wall. He fumbled with his fly and I remained crouched there, feigning compliance.
I wrapped one hand over the other, making a double fist, and then straightened as I brought my arms up between his legs, using all the force inside me.
My scalp burned as he released his hold on my ponytail.
Doubled over, he staggered back. “Cunt.”
I unlocked the door, grabbed the handle, and escaped onto the landing.
I scrambled down the stairs, and two before the bottom, I nearly ran into Nick.
“Baby!” His face filled with alarm. “What’s wrong? Did Stan? Fuck. What did he do? I’ll kill him.” He tried to push past me on the stairs.
I grabbed Nick’s arm, forcing a smile onto my face. “All he did was fire me.”
“That asshole. I’ll take care of this.” He grabbed the staircase railing, waiting for me to step aside.
“Nick.” I stayed in his path, put my hands over his shoulders and kissed him.
His lips, our connection, calmed me, healed my wounded pride, and I saw my priorities more clearly.
Stan had done me a favor. I hated to be fired, but I didn’t want to work in this club—not as a dancerora waitress. Other than the money, the only thing good about this club was I got to see Nick every night, but I’d see him after work regardless.
And if I told Nick what had happened upstairs, he’d kill Stan. Literally kill him. No way would I let that happen.
He broke our kiss. “I’ll talk to Stan. Firing you is bullshit.”
“No.” I pressed against him as he tried to step onto the stair I was on. “It’s all good. I wasn’t supposed to work here in the first place, remember?” I stroked his biceps and felt his erection grow against my stomach.
“You sure?”
“Positive.” I arched into his hardness.
He drew a long breath, his chest expanding against me. “You too sore for…” His fingers trailed down to my lower back.
“Only one way to find out.” I grinned. “Where?”
“Men’s room,” he whispered deep in my ear. “Just give me two minutes to make sure it’s been cleaned.”
My insides clenched as he walked across the club floor. Sore or not, every part of me wanted more Nick.
