Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Seriously, why do you want to strip?” she asks.
“Because I have no clue what to do with my life, and I have bills to pay. I take that responsibility seriously.”
“I’d just caution you to think about it,” Stephanie says, telling me something I already know.
“I will,” I promise her, but honestly, I think I’m going to do it. I’ve got no real reason not to, other than some pissed-off brothers if they found out. But the benefits include having a real earning potential to let me get my own place and start to give my parents something each month.
What they don’t know isn’t going to hurt them.
Chapter 15
Van
I’m exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. The team plane flew back to Raleigh tonight after our loss to New Jersey, tying the series up at two games apiece. It’s fucking hard to win on the road during the play-offs, the home team’s fan base actually becoming an additional player on the ice so to speak. There’s an energy that you can almost cut with a knife from the loud music and thousands of screaming fans cheering their team on.
It’s the same when we play here at home. I expect this series will go all seven games.
So yeah…exhausted from a defeat and a late-night flight back home.
But beyond exhilarated because Lucas left from the airport to head straight to Stephanie’s apartment, and that means Simone and I have the house to ourselves. We can crumble the foundation or scream down the neighborhood and it will all be cool.
The minute I walk into the house, the stillness tells me Simone isn’t here. Yet I walk through the house to make sure, perhaps thinking maybe she’s sleeping naked in my bed.
No such luck.
I pull my phone out and shoot her a text. Where are you?
I didn’t necessarily tell her we’d hook up tonight, but I figured she’d know that. She normally doesn’t work on Sundays, and surely she knows her brother is going to go stay with Stephanie.
She doesn’t respond, and it bothers me a little bit. Simone could be out with friends, or she could have picked up an extra work shift, but for some reason it just kind of bothers me she didn’t tell me.
Not that I even gave her one hint of when I’d be in. Because to do that would smack too much of a committed relationship, and she knows that’s not the way I roll. I know it’s absolutely misogynistic to expect her to keep me fully informed of her whereabouts so I can fuck her when I have some time, but I won’t give the same to her.
I know just how fucked up that is, but I firmly believe if I give an inch, I’ll be expected to give a proverbial mile at some point. I have to maintain the distance with her emotionally.
I take my luggage into my room and unpack. With no response from Simone, I decide to take a shower despite the fact I took one at the arena tonight after the game. It’s a way to pass some time until I can figure out what the rest of my evening is going to be like.
When I get out of the shower, I’m relieved to see a text waiting for me from Simone. Started new job tonight. On a quick break. Glad you’re back. We’ll tear it up tonight when I get home. Lucas is staying with Stephanie.
Yeah, no shit.
Where? I write back.
There’s absolutely no hesitation in her response. Follies.
What the ever loving fucking hell?
My response to her is swift. Are you fucking kidding me? A strip club?
You know it? She asks in her return text. You should come and watch me.
My head actually spins with anger that she could be that stupid. And yes, I know Follies. I’ve been in there on more than one occasion and had my cock sucked by a dancer or two in a private room. What the fuck is she thinking?
I swear to fucking God if a man touches her, I’ll kill him.
—
I throw open the door to Follies and then pull my wallet open. I pay the cover fee and look for Simone. She’s not on the stage, and that doesn’t make me happy. At least on the stage, touching is minimum.
I walk through the dark club, intensely annoyed by the dance music and strobe lights flashing. My eyes sweep over girl after girl, not even bothering to appreciate their bodies. I don’t even look at the dudes, most of whom I bet are sporting erections as they look on with leering eyes toward the dancers.
Fuck…I used to be one of these dudes.
And then I see her.
In the corner, taking a drink order from a table of men in business suits. She’s wearing a string thong and nothing else, those fucking perfect tits on full display, and Christ…her nipples are even hard.