I pull out my phone and dial Slick. “Got a job for you. Need the apartment wired and a room setup for surveillance in the basement. No one else on this. I don’t have time to get in touch with the Reapers to do it nice. I want it done now. Get in and out.” I end the call. Should have done that shit months ago. Least I can see my kid without Ruthie knowing or being tempted by Alexa.
I signal one of the bitches working the floor to bring me a shot. Marco better get some hot ass in here because once I take Alexa out the rotation, he’ll lose business. Knocking back one shot after the next, I sit through a few sets wondering when Alexa will grace the stage.
My cell buzzes with a call from Ruthie. I send her to voice mail. I’m not in the mood for more of her shit right now. I need a fucking break. The crowd moves closer to the main stage, growing louder. The lights dim. “Ladies and gentlemen the reason you’re all here, welcome to the stage Lexi.”
I sit up at the sound of a motorcycle roaring onto the stage. The bouncer shuts it off leaving Alexa on the back with the spotlight shining on her. Seeing her riding bitch on another man’s biker is a punch to the gut even if it’s all for show. Play With Fire by Sam Tinnesz filters through the sound system. Dressed in a black leather bikini top, Daisy Dukes, and knee-high boots like on the fucking poster, all the blood in my body shoots straight to my dick at the sight of her. Smoke covers the floor of the stage. The lighting switches to red strobe lights and an image of fire pops up on a loop on the screen behind her.
Is this a fucking strip show or a theatrical production? I snort to myself and do another shot.
Alexa leans forward, practically humping the seat of the bike. I already want to charge the damn stage, sling her over my shoulder, spank her ass raw, and fuck her brains out. Been months and the attraction I have for her seems to only grow stronger. After her little display on the motorcycle, she trades it for the pole.
Rubbing up and down it seductively she unbuttons her shorts, teasing at what’s beneath them—my own personal paradise. All them years of cheerleading paid off. Her routine appears effortless. She loses the boots and denim shorts. Strutting across the stage in fishnets and a thong, teasing at removing her bikini top, the crowd loves her. I watch powerless to stop the performance. It hurts like hell knowing she’s meant to be mine, and I can’t have her.
It’s for her own good. She wouldn’t understand why I’ve made the choices I have. I’ll carry the burden of it till the day I die, aching for her. Unable to stay away, I inch closer to the stage, bulldozing my way through any motherfucker who stands between us. My pretty girl commands attention and fuck me she’s got mine. My cock swells, craving her sweet pussy.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“The fuck you think you’re doing?” James grips me by the elbow and drags me into one of the private lounges of Lion’s Den, the strip club I’ve been dancing at to support Wylla Mae and me.
My heart leaps to my throat at the sight of him. I’ve done as he said. I’ve stayed away. I’ve not asked him for anything. I used the account he set up for me a few times out of basic necessity until I started working here. I never thought I’d be in this situation. Taking my clothes off and flashing my tits and ass for a little cash. I have a daughter to support though, and for her I’ll do whatever it takes to give her the world.
“What’s it look like? I’m trying to earn money to take care of my daughter.”
“She’s my kid too.”
“Ha.” I laugh in his face as he backs me up until the backs of my knees hit the couch. “My daughter doesn’t need a damn thing you got to offer her. Why don’t you run on home to Ruthie and play house?”
He grabs my chin, his gaze burning with fury. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right. Okay. I heard you’re having another kid. Congratulations.” Some members of his club stop in often and Mitzi, one of the dancers who has taken me under her wing fucks Nickel. She doesn’t know James is the father of my child, but she loves to gossip.
“What happened to you, Lex? This...” his hand rubs down my side, and I shiver. “Taking off your clothes for money... I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it. You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. You gave up the right when you signed your rights to my kid away. I got your papers.” They were stuck under the door of my apartment. When I saw that he signed his rights away that was it. The last shred of hope I had that we’d be together gone. He’s proven he’ll never change his ways and that he doesn’t give a shit about us.
“What papers?”
“Oh, you know what. Fuck you.”
“Fuck me?”
“Yeah.” I get back in his face. “Fuck. You. Murder.”
“Fuck me?” he growls, and I shrink back, falling onto the black leather couch.
He looms over me all broody and still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. Those dangerous dark eyes bore into me. Warmth tingles
