“Didn’t think it was, though you could strip in that and no one would care.”
She shook her head. “It gets better.”
“I imagine it does. Can’t wait to see it.”
“Yeah. I’ll bet. You ready?”
Spence should know better than to try to compliment a woman. He should have just kept his mouth shut.
She sat stiff as a column of steel behind him on the bike, her thighs rigid against his as they rode to the club. After he parked and they got off, her expression was just as stiff as the rest of her.
“You could try smiling.” He reached for her hand but she jerked it away. She was going to self-combust if he didn’t get a shot of tequila in her.
“I am smiling.”
“No, babe, you’re not. You’re stiff as a board, too.” He laid his hand on the small of her back. “Relax. You’re not on for a couple hours.”
She inhaled and blew it out, then walked inside, nodded at the guys at the front, and let Spence lead her toward the bar. Spence ordered two tequila shots and offered one to her. She shook her head. “I don’t want to drink tonight.”
“This will just take the edge off. You’re so tight right now you won’t be able to bend. A shot or two won’t affect you.”
She accepted the glass and downed it in one swallow. She turned and hitched herself up onto a barstool, then leaned back to watch the dancer, cocking her head to the side as if studying her moves.
“You’re better than she is,” he said, leaning close to whisper in her ear.
She snorted and turned to him. “She’s a pro.”
“You’re still better.” He liked being able to talk to her this way. Kept him close enough to her that he could smell her shampoo. God, he was pathetic. Or maybe just horny. If he kept her distracted, maybe she’d relax and stop thinking about whatever made her so tense.
“See anyone you recognize from today?”
“No.”
“What about the guy you saw here last night? The one who works here?”
She scanned the club. “He’s not here. Maybe he’s off tonight.”
“He might be coming in later, too. And none of the guys you talked to on the docks are here?”
She shook her head. “Not yet, but they know I’m not on until eleven. Maybe they’ll come in later. Or not at all. I hope we pack in a good crowd tonight. I’d hate to fail at this.”
“You’re not going to fail. It’s barely past nine. Strip clubs don’t start hopping until after ten. Quit worrying.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the headliner. If I get fired after the first night, our cover is blown.”
She really was going off the deep end. He was going to have to lighten her up or she’d depress the customers, which wouldn’t be a good kickoff night for the new headliner.
Pax and AJ walked in, caught sight of Spence, and made sure to grab a table on the other side of the club. Shadoe’s muscles tensed even further once she caught sight of them strolling past.
He slid his hand under her hair and massaged her neck. She seized up at first, but the more he rubbed, the more her shoulders relaxed. She kept her focus on the dancers, and he continued to gently work the muscles of her neck.
Her hair fell over his arm like a silk waterfall. Touching her made his dick hard. Hell, everything about her made his dick hard. He gave up on the thought of keeping this impersonal. Being next to her, drawing in her scent, and touching her were going to give him an erection and there wasn’t much he could do about it. Since the bodyguard-and-boyfriend cover allowed him to touch her, he could get hard and no one would think anything of it. It worked for their assignment and hey, it was a bonus for him.
Though the hard-on was damned uncomfortable, and being turned on made his mind wander. Like thinking about bending her over the barstool, pulling down her jeans, and thrusting into her until he came. Or laying her on her back across one of the tables and licking her sweet pussy until she had a wild orgasm, then fucking her until they both came.
None of those thoughts helped tamp down his raging libido. He needed to start paying attention to what was going on around him. He searched the club. It was crowded already, so he scanned faces. He might not have a photographic memory like Shadoe, but he had a good recall for people he’d just met the night before. Brandon, the owner, was nowhere in sight—probably in his office if he was on the premises at all. He’d remembered the guys in the front when they’d walked in, so they were the same ones from last night. He hadn’t caught sight of the bouncers yet. Only two dancers had been on so far, and they weren’t repeaters from the night before.
He tunneled his fingers into Shadoe’s scalp and gently rubbed there, then signaled the bartender two fingers. He slid across two more shots. Spence handed one to Shadoe.
“You keep feeding me drinks and rubbing my head like that and one of two things is going to happen.”
He downed the shot and laid the glass on the bar. “Yeah? What two things?”
“I’m either going to fall asleep or have an orgasm.”
He grinned and watched her shoot the tequila. “I vote for the orgasm.”
She took a deep inhale, then let it out, shuddering. “I could use one. It would relax me more than the tequila, though the massage is helping a lot.”
He leaned into her, laid his hand on her upper thigh, and squeezed. “I can make you come.”
Her gaze shot to his. “Here? I don’t think so.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
She laughed and shook her head. “I have a great sense of adventure, but this is not the place.”
She had no idea. Anyplace could be the right place, given a good imagination. He had a really good imagination.
“I need to get back there and get ready, meet the girls.”
He nodded, already formulating a plan. “Okay.”
She slid off the barstool and disappeared through the double doors leading into the dressing area.
He’d give her a half-hour. Then he was going to find her and take care of her.
After all, it was his job to make sure she was relaxed before she went on stage.
Or at least distracted enough that she wasn’t tense.
He grinned and ordered another shot of tequila.
BACKSTAGE WAS A BUSTLE OF ESTROGEN, NOISY WITH LOTS OF women talking, and mostly in various stages of undress. If Shadoe had any reservations about hanging out naked with other women, she was going to have to get over that phobia in a hurry. Fortunately, she’d gotten past that a long time ago in private school, where community showers were required, and she’d never been the modest type anyway.
Ariele was there, along with two dozen other women of various shapes, sizes, and colors. They were packed into the dressing area like sardines, reminding her again of college. But there was laughter and yelling and squealing as everyone caught up on gossip and some argued, while others chatted one-on-one in whatever corner they could find. Some of the girls even had their boyfriends in there. No one bothered to care about that. Others were on the phone chatting up a storm.
Some were friendly, like Elan, a petite mocha-skinned beauty with a quiet elegance and an incredible French accent. She had mesmerizing doe eyes and full lips that men no doubt fell in love with.
Spitfire was a perfect name for the fiery redhead with pale skin and huge breasts. A bundle of energy and nonstop talker, her green eyes flashed with life. She talked so fast Shadoe understood only half of what she said. She was incredibly exuberant and obviously the welcoming committee of the bunch.
Star was a cool raven-haired beauty with gray eyes that seemed to always assess. She didn’t say much, wasn’t exactly unfriendly, just wasn’t overly social either. She nodded when Shadoe introduced herself. Shadoe noticed she didn’t seem to be chatty with any of the other girls. She sat at her table putting on her makeup and kept to herself. Maybe she was shy; maybe it was just her personality. Could be something else, but people who weren’t friendly weren’t to be trusted, at least in Shadoe’s opinion. She’d have to keep her eye on Star.
“So you’re the new girl.”
As Shadoe sat at her makeup table to do her face, she looked up into the eyes of a very tall, gorgeous blonde with big blue eyes and a knockout figure. “Yes, I’m Desi.”
“I’m Cheri, and I’m the lead here. We’ll see what kind of headliner you are.”
“Quit being such a bitch, Cheri,” Ariele said, moving over to stand next to Shadoe. “Can’t you just welcome Desi?”
Cheri lifted her chin and glared at Ariele. “I just did, didn’t I?”
Cheri walked away and Ariele flipped her off. “Cow.” She turned to Shadoe. “Don’t pay any attention to her. She thinks she’s hot shit and has delusions of being a headliner.” Ariele leaned in to whisper, “Which will never happen, because she has about as much sex appeal as stale bread. Wait till you catch her act.”
A dancer with a chip on her shoulder, and she already hated Shadoe? Great. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
Ariele patted her shoulder, then went off to get ready for her act. Shadoe was pretty much ready other than getting dressed, and she had an hour to kill before she went on. She could throw on a robe and hang out at the doorway to watch the other dancers, get a feel for their rhythm.
That might help relax her. If they could do it, she could, too.
She didn’t know why she was so tense tonight. It wasn’t the first night she’d stripped. She’d done it in Dallas to a large crowd and hadn’t thought much of it at all.
Then again, maybe that’s because back in Dallas she’d just thrown herself on the stage without thinking about what she was doing.
She’d had plenty of time to think about it since, and she had the added pressure of the case now, of watching for the rogue agent. Plus, AJ and Pax were out there watching.
Which really should be no different from Spence seeing her strip, right?
Who was she kidding? It was different. Tonight, everything was. She grabbed a robe and tied the sash, then slid out the door and down the hall. The blaring music pounded in her temples and jacked up her already haywire nervous system. The hallway was pitch-dark and she had to feel the wall to make her way toward the light at the entrance to the doorway. She intended to linger there and peek at the dancers, hopefully gain some courage that way, but she crashed into something huge and immobile. It took her only a second to realize she’d run into a large, hard body, definitely male.
“Sorry,” she said, trying to focus in the darkness on the face of whoever she’d run into.
“No need to be sorry.”
“Spence. What are you doing back here?” She pivoted, certain someone was going to come rushing up to them and bust them, but she didn’t know why she was so nervous. Some of the other girls had their boyfriends in the dressing room. Spence in the hallway was no big deal. After all, he was her bodyguard and her boyfriend—at least that’s what everyone was supposed to believe. He had every right to be back here.
“Just came to check on you.”
“I’m fine. Get back out there.”
Instead, he pulled her against his chest. “Coming out to take a peek?”
“I was.” She pulled the robe sash tighter around her.
“Then let’s go take a look.”
“I don’t think—”
He didn’t give her time to finish her sentence, but instead wrapped his arm around her middle and walked her toward the doors, then stepped back to the corner. There, she could watch the dancers but the corner was recessed so they were out of the swinging doorway.
“This is a good spot.”
“I guess so.” He hadn’t let go of her. He was so big, his body pressed up against her. She felt him everywhere, and she was naked underneath her robe. His fingertips rested just under her left breast where he no doubt felt the rapid thumping of her heart.