“Fuck.” He raked his fingers through his hair.
Inwardly, my peacock feathers fanned. “I just need to grab my bag. Come in.”
“No, thanks. I’ll wait out here.”
If I couldn’t have him, I was damn straight going to make sure to rub in his face what he was missing.
A group that looked like they might have been a bachelor party stumbled to the elevator bank as we waited. I sort of loved it when Chance put his hand on the small of my back in an understated possessive gesture. I really loved it when he didn’t take it away, even when we walked out on the strip.
“Where are we going?”
Chance hailed a cab and opened the door for me. He answered by means of directing the driver, “Spearmint Rhino, please.”
Five minutes later, we were pulling into a parking lot. The neon sign read Spearmint Rhino. But beneath it explained more: A Gentleman’s Club. “We’re going to a strip club?”
“We are. You said it was my choice all evening.” He winked.
Oddly, although I’d never been inside of one, I was more intrigued than put off. The interior was nothing like I’d imagined. I suppose I expected darkness and sticky floors. But instead, I was surprised to find two floors, a grand stage and opulent décor. At first, it seemed more like a swanky nightclub than a place where women took off their clothes. The main stage had seating all around it, and there was a section with long couches for larger parties. Other areas could be curtained off for privacy. Some of the curtains were closed; others were open and inviting. I watched as two attractive women led a man by his hand into a private area behind a door.
My eyes took in everything around me, but when I looked at Chance, he was only watching me.
“Have you been here before?”
He nodded. “A mate’s bachelor party last year.”
“You mean you don’t frequent this place with your dates?”
Chance chuckled and took my hand. “Just you, babe. You still think I’m a womanizer, don’t you?”
I let him lead me to a booth in a corner. It was quiet, private almost, but it didn’t stay that way for long. A dancer wearing only a g-string, with a body I could only dream about, smiled as she approached. “Would your date like a dance?”
He looked at me, caught my widened eyes and declined graciously. “Not just yet. I think we’re going to have a drink first.”
He turned his attention to me. “Still okay with me picking what we do all night?”
I rose to the challenge. “Of course.”
We shared a bottle of wine that was grossly overpriced, and I actually forgot where we were for a while. I looked around and sighed. “Where do they get all these perfect women from?”
Chance emptied his glass. “I only see one.”
“That’s sweet. But I can’t lift my leg over my shoulder like that one.” I pointed to a woman who had to have been double jointed. “So I think she definitely has me beat.”
“Thank God.”
“Thank God, she has me beat?”
“No. Thank God you can’t lift your leg over your shoulder. There’s only so much a man can take before he breaks.” There was an intensity in his eyes that made me feel like if I pushed a little harder, I could break him. Only, I didn’t want to break him. I wanted him whole.
“So. Have I passed your test yet? Or do we have to pay a hundred dollars for another nine-dollar bottle of wine?”
“Just one more thing. Then we can go.”
I was almost afraid to ask. “What’s that?”
“I’m going to buy you a lap dance.”
“And that will prove I’m not uptight to you once and for all?”
“No. But it will sure as hell make my night.”
The lap dance was nothing like I expected. It sort of…turned me on, and I didn’t know how to process that. I liked men. I never had any interest in women, so it left me feeling a bit confused on the way back to the hotel.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Aubrey?”
The strip was jam packed like it was nine in the morning in midtown Manhattan, even though it was almost one in the morning in Las Vegas. I’d had a little too much truth serum…I mean wine. I leaned my head on Chance’s shoulder in the back of the cab and took an audible breath. “Say my name again, Cocky?”
“Princess.”
“No, my real name.”
“Oh. Uptight Princess.”
I jabbed him in the chest with my elbow and laughed. “No really. I like the way it sounds when you say Aubrey.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, Aubrey.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.
AH-BREE.
Snuggled tightly to Chance’s side, I dozed for a few minutes in the car. His raspy voice saying my name with that incredible accent, made me warm all over. It felt so right, it almost hurt to think we wouldn’t be with each other all the time soon enough.
Chapter Eight
The knock at my door came at eight in the morning. I was awake but definitely not awake enough to go into a gym. What was I thinking when I’d agreed to go? I was way too amenable last night. The alcohol had smoothed out my edges temporarily, but this morning I was feeling wrinkly again.
“It’s too early,” I groaned after finding Chance already dressed in his workout gear. He looked sexy as all hell in his low hanging running shorts and sneakers, but even that wasn’t enough to help my dragging ass. He caught the door as I turned back to my bed and slipped back under the cover.
Chance ripped the toasty blanket off of me.
“What the hell?”
“Rise and shine, Princess.”
“I don’t feel like getting up.”
“You’ll feel better after we do it.”
I cocked an eyebrow and he smirked. “Ah. I think I’ve corrupted you. Who’s the pervert now?”
“A pervert is someone who has sexual behavior that is wrong or unacceptable.” Word for word, I recited the definition he’d given me when we were arguing over my not admitting to masturbating.
He chuckled. But also scooped me up from the bed and carried me to the bathroom. “Did you see the size of that burger you ate yesterday? I need to go the gym, and you’re coming with.”
I pouted. “Are you telling me I’m fat?”
“Not at all. I’m telling you I like looking at that shapely ass of yours and I’m selfish. I want to keep it that way.”
I rolled my eyes but went into the bathroom and washed up. When I came out, Chance was lying in my bed, both his hands behind his head as he leisurely watched a European soccer game.
“Do you miss playing?” I asked. It was a stupid question. I regretted it the minute it came out of my mouth.
“I do.”
“Can you get back into it somehow? I don’t mean playing. Maybe coaching or managing a team or something?”
“I’ve thought about that.”
“And—”
“I never actually finished my education. I went pro in my second year of college. Most universities and even high schools want their coaches to be educated. Sets an example for the students.”
“So go back to school.”