Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
“Hello, welcome to Club Exotic.” I smile as the men all start to file in. It’s a busy night and I can hardly keep up with the large groups of men arriving.
The sexy music starts and another girl comes to the doors to greet along with me.
“Why is it so busy?” I call over the music.
“God, I don’t know. Everyone’s horny tonight,” he replies dryly.
My little friend arrives with another two drinks for us and I shake my head. “No more. I’m seriously getting drunk here.”
“But your relaxed, right?” He laughs loudly.
I giggle. “Yes, I do have to admit that I’m relaxed for the first time in a long time.”
He winks. “My job here is done.”
He disappears down to the Escape girls, and Stephanie walks over to us. “Vivienne, I’m going to need you picking up glasses.”
“Sure.” I smile. My favorite job.
“You’re going to have to wear a dancing uniform, though.”
“What?” I ask.
She shrugs. “We don’t have enough staff on to cover all these men. If they see more of us around, they’re less likely to throw a tantrum.”
I glance around at the other girls in their sheer tops and their little hotpants.
“I’m going to get the girls behind the bar to change as well. It just makes it look better if they think there are a lot of dancers on,” she adds.
“I’m not changing.”
“You can go and tell Eliza in the office then because she’s the one who told me to tell you.”
I blow out a breath and roll my eyes. “Fine!” I snap. I swear to God, I’m looking for another job tomorrow.
I storm out the back and change into a skimpy pair of hot pants and remove my leather top, throwing on an organza short top in its place.
I turn and check myself out in the mirror and smirk. I do look better in this uniform, to be honest. My bouncer friend comes out with another two drinks and my eyes nearly pop from their sockets.
“You’re going to have to drive me home.” I laugh.
He smiles cheekily. “Deal.”
I pick up one of my drinks and put it onto my tray and begin to walk around picking up glasses from the club. The music is loud and the women are sexy. With the warmth of the alcohol in my blood, I start to smile as I walk around and get on with my job.
I do like it here.
I bend to pick up a glass from a table, but when I glance up, I freeze on the spot.
Cameron is standing with a large group of men, a drink and cigar in each hand, laughing loudly and having fun.
I stand up as the room begins to spin around me.
He’s in the Escape Lounge, roped off section. Holy shit… and he thinks I left.
I walk back out the back and throw down my sixth drink as my fury begins to rise.
Who the hell does he think he is? He demands I leave this job, yet he’s here to fuck someone else just four days after he left me.
I’m here broken hearted and he’s here to orgasm with some random stranger.
I’ve never been so furious in my life. I storm back out into the club and I feel a hand on my behind. “Hey, Vivienne.”
I slap the hand off my ass and turn like the devil has touched me. “Don’t fucking touch me.” I growl.
“Hey, what’s with you tonight, hell cat?”
It’s the dipshit that tried to tip me the night in the Escape Lounge. “Don’t touch me,” I snap.
“I’ll do more than touch you. I’m going to fuck you hard.” He grabs my hand and tries to pull me down to the Escape Lounge.
I rip my arm from his clutches. “Get your hands off me, asshole!” I snap.
He leans in and tries to bite me, and I slap him hard across the face. He staggers back. I push him hard in the chest. “I wouldn’t have sex with you if you were the last man on this Earth,” I yell.
He lifts his chin in defiance. “Is that so.” He growls.
The bouncers arrive and pull him off me. I weave through the crowd to escape as my heart churns adrenaline through my body at double speed. Shit, I hate that guy.
I pick up my tray and turn just in time to see Cameron take a seat in the lap-dancing bay on a leather couch. He sits back in his expensive suit, drinking his blue label Scotch, waiting for a half-naked girl to rub her body up against his.
Spoiled fucking brat that he is.
Something snaps deep inside. I put my tray down on the nearest table and walk over to stand behind him. I swear to God, I could become Jack the ripper and cut his throat if I had the chance. The song Yeah by Usher comes on, and I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the adrenaline, or the sheer bad luck from seeing him, but he’s going to pay for hurting me.