Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
A hot rush of lust shot up his spine.
Jesus.
When was the last time he’d gotten laid?
He couldn’t remember, which meant he’d have to make time soon. He tried not to go more than three months without a visit to the condo. He made a mental note to call Dalia and schedule an appointment.
It was those shoes, that’s all. They were perfect. He’d always been a sucker for a graceful woman in Louboutins. For some reason, those red-bottom heels drove his libido crazy. But it wasn’t the shoes his gaze tracked. It was the swish-swish of confectionery hair as it tickled the top of a delicious ass. It brought to mind a candy apple, and hell if Rafe didn’t want to take a bite.
He tugged the crotch of his slacks and forced himself to breathe.
There was no way he’d sample that particular sweet treat. He was her boss, and employees were off limits. The last thing he needed was a fucking sexual harassment accusation. Plus, he preferred to keep his kinky proclivities limited to professionals. No confusion. No seduction. It was all business, just how he liked it.
He fucked to clear his mind, not to get emotional. Emotions meant tangles and he had enough of those without adding sex into the mix.
He turned away from the pastel princess and made his way into his office. Mark would be up soon with an update and Rafe needed time to pull himself together.
* * *
Three hours after hearing Mark out, Hop was back at the club, staring at his reflection in the backstage mirror. He had to figure out how to avoid Rafe or, at least, how to deal with the fallout of their inevitable clash. For seven years he’d avoided anything to do with his father, and now he was about to come face to face with Roland’s lackey again.
This time would be different. This time he wouldn’t need rescuing. He would be strong and self-assured. He’d had almost a decade to come to terms with his flaws and penchant for danger. Rafe would never see him cower again.
He had until Friday to find a solution.
Tonight, all he could do was dance.
He painted his eyes a deep purple at the outer corners with teal sparkles inside. Their first routine was all about setting up the fantasy. He’d cut and re-stitched the shorts he wore so the slits up the sides tantalized with flashes of skin and added a layer of organza.
It wasn’t an original piece of art, but at least it was better than a store-bought dance uniform. With his colorful hair and highlighted cheekbones, he’d look like a creature of myth under the lights.
The others were all doing their own versions so together they’d look like a crazy group of pixies.
He finished his makeup and stood to get dressed. Their costumes included lacy leggings and knee-high leather boots in their individual color scheme. The pièce de résistance? A pair of colorful jeweled handcuffs they’d wear for the last song.
Hop smoothed the purple leather up his calf, then shrugged on the matching straps and harness. The leather was cool against his heated skin and sent tingles to the roots of his hair. He turned back to the mirror to take in the whole picture. He looked like someone’s gay hallucination.
“You’ll do,” Z winked at him in the reflection.
Hop tilted his head. “Bitch, please, I’m killing it.”
Z laughed and straightened his shorts.
“Ready to make them scream?” Ansel asked.
Z snickered. His straight black hair had grown out to brush his shoulders as he tugged on his black faux-leather collar and shoulder piece. He’d used pigmented reds to give all the black some extra pop.
Ansel, with his platinum locks, was the angel to Z’s devil. Honey-sweet Tam was wearing a sexy nude vinyl waist cincher and rosy blush. Jae played up the Asian angle with a high-neck crop top and perfectly winged liner.
Together they’d own the stage and have the audience drooling.
The atmosphere was eager as they prepared for their first set. Any spark would set them on fire. Rife with passion, their anxious nerves filled the air and made Hop’s skin tingle. It was a feeling he’d gotten used to. The first time he’d gone on stage in full makeup and heels with the lights shining down on him and the Sassy Boyz on either side, he’d become addicted.
Hard to believe it’d only been five months ago.
At the time, he and Jae joined because Z had been unable to dance after twisting his ankle. A few weeks later, the whole situation blew up. The club where they’d worked had closed down and Lirim, another original Sassy Boy, had been arrested. Hop had been sure the adventure would be over, but they hadn’t given up. After months of auditions, they’d finally landed this gig at Switch. Hop had grown to really respect this group of guys. They were tenacious, like him.