Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Wrath slowly swivels his head and lifts a questioning eyebrow at me.
“Don’t worry, you’re still the scariest, big guy.” I reach over and thump him on the back a few times. “Maybe too scary.”
“I thought we didn’t want Remy near that end of our businesses?” Murphy asks.
“The porn,” Rooster says. “We said keep him away from our porn stars after he got too friendly with Anya down in Virginia. New York’s strippers are fair game.”
I shoot a scowl at Rooster who shakes his head and throws me a just-fucking-around chin lift.
Murphy shrugs. “It’s Dex’s call.”
I stare at him across the table. “Yeah,” I answer slowly, “it is. Speaking of, now that you’re not worried about Heidi going into labor, maybe you should come down and pitch in.”
Teller smirks. “Yeah, bro. We all gotta pay our dues.”
“Fuck off,” Murphy grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Dex.” Jigsaw raises his hand. “May I make a suggestion?”
I groan and put on my patient face. There’s zero chance his suggestion isn’t going to be one hundred percent obnoxious. “By all means, Jiggy. Give me your suggestions.”
“Have you considered hosting a MILF night?” he asks in his most businesslike tone.
“Jesus Christ,” Rooster mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Jiggy sends his buddy a stink-eye, then leans forward on his elbows and slips into serious mode. “I’ve been to Furious a few times. Wrath’s got a lovely pool of potential talent to pull from. A few moms who never got the chance to ride a pole in their youth, maybe need to earn some cash on the side, add some excitement to their lives, or want to live out their stripper fantasies—”
“I see you’ve given this a lot of thought,” I say.
Wrath shoots a glare at Jigsaw. “You come into my gym and start asking my clients if they want to give stripping a try, I’ll fucking gut you.”
Rooster lets out a strangled noise somewhere between choking and laughter.
“Why?” Jigsaw’s eyes widen, as if his suggestion had been completely innocent. Hell, maybe in his deranged brain it actually was. “They’d probably be flattered.”
“You’re being reverse helpful here, bro.” Rooster pats Jiggy’s back. “Pipe down, now.”
“Are you sure you’ve ever spoken to an adult woman in your life?” Murphy asks. “I don’t think many would be thrilled about having some deviant suggest they’re stripper material.”
“Because you’re suddenly an expert on women, ya ginger cradle robber,” Jiggy shoots back in his best leprechaun voice.
Murphy snorts.
“I’m always interested in hearing ideas and suggestions,” I say to Jiggy. “Some of our customers might dig the Suzy Homemaker vibes—”
“MILFs, not homemakers,” Jiggy corrects.
“What the fuck’s the difference?” Bricks asks.
“They’re different subsets of the older women category,” Jigsaw answers, as if the answer is obvious.
“Jiggy,” Teller sighs. “Do we have to explain to you that women are actually people? Again?”
“Yes,” Jigsaw says with exaggerated patience. “Lovely, beautiful people who come in various shapes, ages, sizes—”
“Please make it stop,” Murphy groans.
“I’ll take it under advisement, Jiggy,” I say, hurrying to add, “We wouldn’t dedicate a whole night to something like that, though.”
To my left, I sense twin holes being drilled into the side of my skull. I shift my gaze to Wrath before he sets me on fire with his scary fucking eyes.
“But,” I continue, “if we ever decide to explore a…MILF night, we’re not approaching the clients from the club’s other businesses.”
My gaze skips to my president. The corners of Rock’s mouth curve slightly. He nods as if he’s proud of the delicate line I just walked between encouraging new ideas and not incurring Wrath’s, well, wrath.
A snicker escapes from Z’s end of the table and when I look his way, he’s leaning on the left arm of his chair with his fist covering his mouth, trying not to laugh. “Good plan,” he mumbles. “Thanks, Dex.”
Keep laughing, you dimpled motherfucker. “You know, Z, Crystal Ball wouldn’t mind seeing your sweet cheeks one of these days. Since you meep-meeped out of there Roadrunner-style and left a Z-shaped hole in the door and all.” I run my fingers over the table to demonstrate.
That wipes the smile off his face. “If my situation hadn’t changed so drastically, I’d still be there, brother.”
“I always figured Z and Lilly would take over the place,” Butcher blurts, nodding his big head like it’s common knowledge.
“Excuse me, motherfucker?” Z asks, not amused in the slightest.
Butcher shoots a worried glance my way, then to Rock, and finally to Z. “I mean she could be den mom or whatever. Not work a pole.”
Jigsaw lifts a finger and opens his mouth.
“Don’t,” Z warns.
Without turning his head, Rooster reaches over and clamps his hand over Jiggy’s mouth. “You’ve said enough today, brother.”
I nod to Rooster. “Couldn’t agree more.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Dex
After church, I jog upstairs. I haven’t stayed in my room here for a while. If I don’t visit it soon, I might lose it to one of my brothers turning it into their personal fuck pad.