Page 13 of Seeking Vengeance
“It’s supposed to. Seem like it, that is.”
The quirk turned into an outright smile. “So, you’re a consummate professional, is that it? All about pleasing the customer?”
Nicki clenched her jaw, felt the heat rise in her cheeks. It was a wonder she didn’t crack a tooth, applying that much force.
“Are you telling me that’s a bad thing?” she ground out defensively.
“In one of the private viewing areas? Hell no. But out there, among the masses? Fuck yes.”
His eyes flashed to the monitors again. Hers followed. The place was still packed. She could see why that might be a cause for concern. Any other night, and they’d be steadily filing out after the big finale, hopefully with smiles on their faces and their pockets a lot lighter than when they had come in. But tonight, there was a different kind of energy on the floor. The men were more wired than usual, overanxious.
Jason leaned forward and pressed a button on the sleek-looking black box at the edge of the desk. “Ben? Inform the ladies that we’ll pay time and a half for anyone willing to stick around for another hour, but keep them on the stage. No more lap dances—no exceptions. And tell security to keep their eyes open.”
After receiving a gruff acknowledgment, Jason turned his attention back to her. “Look, you’re a great dancer, Nicki, but I don’t need the hassles. First, your brother attacks a customer—”
“He was protecting me!” she interrupted.
Jason shot her a warning glance. “That’s what I pay security for.”
Color rose in her cheeks, and flames danced in her eyes. “Then, maybe you don’t pay them enough because they suck at it.”
“They would have handled it. They wouldn’t have allowed any harm to come to you.”
“Bullshit.”
Jason exhaled heavily and rubbed his eyes. He was clearly reaching the end of his patience. That made two of them.
“I am not arguing with you about this. You are not the first girl to get groped. Call it an occupational hazard, if you will. Surely, you’ve had to deal with things like this before.”
He didn’t give her an opportunity to respond before continuing, “I have a business to run. What concerns me more is what occurred tonight.That’slikely to cause me problems. I can’t allow that to happen again. It’s one thing for your brother to go all knight in shining armor. Quite another for Sean Callaghan to do so. There is a big difference between a fractured hand and a room full of dead bodies. It would be bad for business and mean a whole lot of paperwork that I would just as soon avoid.”
“What the hell does Sean Callaghan have to do with anything?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” he countered. He pushed another button and brought up her lap dance. Another tap, and the image froze.
Nicki gasped.Is that what everyone saw?
Her fingers were tangled in Sean’s silky, short hair, the other hand digging into his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, lips parted, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Sean’s eyes were on her, his focus absolute, his expression …fierce.
A potent combination of heat and shame rushed through her. She tossed back the remaining brandy in her glass, stalling for a moment until she could get herself back under control.
“Nothing. He’s just another guy trying to get his rocks off—that’s all.”
Jason snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Nicki glared at him. Inside, her mind was working on damage control. Instinct told her that beneath those puppy-dog eyes and all-American smile was a clever, intelligent man. Intuition told her that he was trying just as hard to figure her out as she was him. He wasn’t the run-of-the-mill adult entertainment pimp—there was far too much intelligence and cunning in those soft brown eyes.
Once again, she had the distinct feeling there was a lot more to Pine Ridge than appeared on the surface. And again, she reminded herself that it was irrelevant beyond the fact that there was another male around whom she would have to be especially careful.
“So, what you’re telling me is—hypothetically speaking, of course—it’s all right to tease men into a frenzy but not to take any pleasure in it?”
Not that she would admit to such a thing. Stripping was a lot like acting really. None of it was real; it was smoke and mirrors to create the desired effect. The lights, the music, the costumes, the stage, the props—they were all part of the scene. The men paid for a good show, and she gave them what they wanted. And if, on rare occasions, she wasn’t faking the wholeI get off on being badthing, what of it? No one was the wiser.
Never admit to anything. Yep, that was a plan.
He smirked. “There’s nothing hypothetical about it. And I think you’re smarter than that, Nicki.”
Unless … maybe he was talking about something else? Had someone come to him about the questions she was asking? She was very careful with whom she spoke, but nothing was foolproof. There was a fine line between garden-variety curiosity and ferreting out intel.
