Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I guess he had no reason to show up until now. My other jobs require clothing. I only started at Spanks tonight. It’s my very first shift.
“What did he order?”
Jax twirls a platinum credit card around his fingers. “The fucking works. Daddy has deep pockets.” He whips his hair side to side while clicking his fingers together. “Regretfully, he only has eyes for one blonde.”
While smiling about his pout, I ask, “Have you run his card yet?”
He shakes his head. “We usually wait. A lot of johns request the works, then demand a refund when they don’t last a second.” When he hears the groan I didn’t mean to express, he mutters, “As I said earlier today, you only do what you want to do. If that’s nothing but dancing, then you only have to shake your little caboose. I ain’t forcing any girl to do anything they don’t want to do.” He leans in close, then snickers. “Men… that’s another story.” He clicks his fingers in my face all sassy-like.
It sucks that Alek tracked me down so soon after finding alternative employment. Jax makes it seem as if I’m working at a nightclub instead of a strip joint.
Mistaking my forlorn look, Jax asks, “You want me to run it through now? Put a hold on it to make sure he can afford what he’s asking for?”
I shake my head. “He can afford it. He has more money than sense these days.”
After squeezing his hand in silent thanks for his support, I mosey toward the private booths. Most strip clubs are designed the same way. Maksim’s just aren’t quite as sleazy.
Only once I’m certain I have my game face on do I enter the room assigned to Alek. I’m preparing for war, so you can imagine my shock when I enter a pitch-black room.
“Please don’t,” Alek grumbles when my hunt for the light switch sends a scratchy noise booming into the room. “I have a massive fucking headache, and for the first time in my life, it doesn’t start with the letters A N A.”
His groan makes me smile. He always called me the biggest headache of his life. I took it as a compliment. It seems I was the only woman ever capable of tying him down, and that was purely because I kept him on his toes.
He grows bored easily, and some of our downfall can be blamed on my failure to remember that.
“What are you doing here, Alek?” My tone is lower than my previous one, barely a whisper. “If it is about the rent and groceries, I’ll get the—”
“I need to sleep.” With my eyes slowly adjusting to the dark, I spot him dropping the arm covering his sleepy eyes. “And I can’t do that with anyone else but you.”
I laugh a witch-like cackle. “What are you trying to say? You haven’t slept once in the past four years? Even vampires need some shuteye.”
“I’ve slept.” He sits up on the bed, which leaves no doubt as to what services some dancers here offer. “Just not without assistance.” I need to get a hold of my expressions. Only a handful of creases line my nose when I screw it up before Alek corrects, “Drugs. Drugs helped me sleep.” He scrubs at the back of his neck while murmuring, “But I can’t do that right now. Too much shit is going down.”
My tone is as pathetic as the immature brat I’m acting like when I mumble, “So great to learn I’m your second choice… again.”
“Fuck, драгоценный. That isn’t what I meant.”
“It’s Ana.”
He acts as if I never spoke. “You don’t have to fucking touch me. I just want you to lay next to me for a couple of hours, so I can stop my brain from fucking exploding and dripping down my nostril cavities.”
The pain in his voice is my undoing. It buckles my resolve in an instant. He was plagued by migraines our entire relationship. They’re a consequence of the accident that saw him removed from his family home and placed into foster care.
My father is bad, but Alek’s was worse.
“You need to scoot. These beds aren’t designed for people to lay side by side.”
Again, he groans before he does as asked.
“Do you have water?”
He kicks the bag dumped on the end of the single bed, highlighting a half-empty gallon of water.
“Where’s your medication?”
“I’ve already taken it.” He grimaces like something as simple as speaking is torturous. “They haven’t done shit. I just need sleep.”
Since I agree with him, I tug off my heels, unbutton the button at the top of my denim shorts so it won’t dig in while lying motionless, then slip onto the scarce bit of mattress Alek reserved for me. He isn’t meaning to be a hog. He’s just too big for such a little bed.