Riding on Instinct
Page 17

And hopefully she was more relaxed now.
Though he was wound up tighter than a string on a bow after what went down in the darkened hall. Her scent still lingered on him and the way she shuddered and came apart was burned into his memory. He’d gotten his erection under control, but he’d had to do some serious thinking about math and fishing to get it there.
Now he was going to have to watch her strip.
This was going to be a test of his endurance.
He noticed AJ and Pax had moved to a table near the stage. Assholes. Pax lifted his gaze and winked. Spence’s arms were crossed and he lifted a middle finger. AJ grinned, then turned his attention to the girl currently dancing on the stage, a long-legged, dark-skinned beauty named Elan, if Spence remembered her name right. She had lush, slow moves that were meant to seduce.
All the girls had some kind of special talent, all were decent dancers, and Spence wasn’t the least bit interested, which was rare for him. He tended to gravitate toward strippers. They tended to be just like him—not all that interested in permanent relationships, out for a good time, and no strings attached. His kind of woman.
Shadoe? Not that kind of woman at all. She was from a solid family—okay, maybe a broken home, but she had a stable father—military, even. Good schools, great job, a future ahead of her. She had goals and ambitions and none of those included stripping or f**king around with no strings attached.
So what was the attraction? Something about her seemed just a little bit lost. She reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t put his finger on who. He just felt . . . close to her, a kinship. There was definitely an attraction. He wanted her, but then, he loved f**king women, so desiring her didn’t surprise him.
The music had stopped after the last dancer, and the stage went dark. Men crowded all around, eager to see the headliner. He hoped Shadoe had stayed relaxed enough, because the front end of the club was wall-to-wall guys.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please,” the deejay announced. “From Dallas, Texas, let’s give it up for Desi!”
The lights hit the stage opening just as the sound of revving motorcycle engines—loud and heavy on the throttle—shot through the speakers. Smoke poured from the floor and filled the stage. Her music queued up and Desi burst through the door.
Spence stopped breathing. She wore a floor-length black leather duster, buttoned at the top but the bottom flapped back as she walked. She had on those fuck-me thigh-high boots that made his throat go dry. When she got to the front of the stage, she jerked the coat open and threw it off, revealing a black leather bra and matching leather boy shorts that barely covered her assets. Both were decorated with silver studs just like a bike seat. When she turned around to shake her ass, emblazoned on the back of the shorts was the name Desi in silver studs across her butt. The lights shined right down on her perfectly rounded butt cheeks, which looked even better encased in tight black leather.
Goddamn. He didn’t think he’d ever seen so many guys not yelling and catcalling. They were as stunned as he was. No one moved—except Shadoe. Her h*ps swung from side to side as she bent her knees and swayed down to the floor, touching her fingers there. She searched the crowd, seemingly making eye contact with everyone, but he knew she looked for him. She found him, smiled, winked, then threw her head back and laughed like she was having the time of her life. Then she raised up and shimmied around the stage in a frenetic dance, using every part of her body to move.
The club woke up, especially when Shadoe gave a high kick, leaped, and grabbed the pole, doing a double swing around it. They went wild.
She had them in the palm of her hand then, and she knew it. He caught her smirk, the gleam in her eye. She pulled off the bra, then the boy shorts, leaving her in only her black leather G-string. She shook her stuff, prancing around the stage like she owned it.
And for three minutes, Spence believed her to be the headliner she was. She was confident, in charge, and sexy as hell.
She rocked it. Money flew all over the stage, and when she finished, the floor was covered in bills. The bouncers had to keep guys from clamoring onto the stage after her, especially when she crawled over to them and cocked her hip toward them so they’d tuck money in her G-string.
She owned every man in the joint.
Hell, she’d owned him during that dance. And he wanted to tear apart every guy who thought he had a chance with her. Even AJ and Pax had been riveted, their mouths open as they watched Shadoe with lust in their eyes. He’d seen the way they looked at her. He knew those guys, knew their sexual needs. If they even thought for a second—
No way was that going to happen. Not with Shadoe. Not ever. Primal instinct had kicked in and he wanted to pull every man away from the stage and shout that the woman up there was his.
Fuck. What was wrong with him? He snapped his gaze back to Shadoe. Her gaze had found his again and he read the desire in her eyes, the slight smile meant only for him.
The song ended, the stage went black, and Spence realized his hands were clenched into fists.
Now who was tense? Beads of sweat trickled down his temple. He swept them away and went to the bar to get a beer, downing half of it in a couple swallows.
AJ sidled up to the bar next to him. It was crowded and noisy and no one paid attention to the two of them.
“Goddamn, that was hot,” AJ said, taking the beer the bartender gave him before turning around to face the stage.
Spence didn’t say anything. AJ arched a brow. “You screwing her yet? Because if not . . .”
“Fuck off.”
AJ’s lips lifted. “Guess you are. Too bad.” He tilted the beer bottle to his lips and walked away.
Asshole. AJ and Pax could just go find another woman willing to play their game of threesome.
Spence whirled around at the sound of cheers and clapping. Shadoe had walked through the door . . . or rather, Desi had. She was dressed in a white minidress that cut high on her thighs and scooped in around her br**sts in halter fashion, tight and low. She wore white stiletto heels, so she was definitely dressed the part.
He moved over to the doorway where she stood, crowded in by eager new fans. Two of the Wild Rose bodyguards had already taken position on either side of her to keep her from being rushed by the guys.
Spence muscled in, much to the irritation of the crowd. He elbowed more than a few of them in his efforts to get to her.
“Hey, that’s my bodyguard,” she said, motioning for them to let Spence through.
She smiled when he made his way to her side. He felt like ten times an idiot for not being backstage to accompany her out. It was time to remember his cover and stop thinking with his dick.
He took her chin between his fingers and tilted her face up to press a kiss to her lips. “Nice job,” he murmured before he straightened.
“Thanks.” Her smile widened, then she looped her arm in his and made her way through the throng.
“Give the lady some breathing space and she’ll have time to visit with everyone,” Spence said.
They backed away and the bouncers ahead of them cleared a path. One of them turned to her. “We’ve set up a table for you in the back. Looks like you’re going to be busy for a while.”
Shadoe pushed her hair away from her face. “Wow. It certainly seems that way, doesn’t it? And thanks.”
She took a seat at the long black table and it didn’t take seconds for about six guys to sit down with her, their faces eager.
What? Did they expect her to strip at the table? Not f**king likely.
“How about a drink?” she finally asked.
At least she knew what to do.
They fell over themselves getting a drink for her. Spence rolled his eyes. The next hour went that way, while Spence took up position behind her, watching for anyone who got too close or thought they could put his hands on her. Typically his glare would put anyone off, but the few brave ones who pushed their luck got removed in a hurry.
Shadoe left after the first hour so she could take a break before her second show at one. He led her to the bar and she took a seat at the end spot.
“Feel okay?”
She grinned. “I feel great.”
“You should. You’re the star tonight.”
Her lashes dipped before she tilted her head to look at him. “I don’t know about that, but wow, it sure was way more than I expected.”
“You did a great job. You were hot.”
Her smile hit him right in the balls. “I’m glad you thought so.”
“Everyone thought so.”
“But I’m glad you thought so.”
He lifted his hand to the back of her neck again. “Your tension seems to be gone.”
Her body vibrated with her laugh. “Yes. You did a fine job taking care of that. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
She laid her palm against his cheek. “I’ll see to your pleasure. Later.”
His nostrils flared. He leaned into her. “You make my dick hard.”
“I hope so.”
Her second act was as good, if not better, than the first. Like the show in Dallas, she wore the leather with the fringe and drove the guys into an even higher-pitched frenzy.
There was no doubt about it—Desi was a hit.
“She’s rockin’ hot as hell,” Brandon said to him after Shadoe finished up her second act.
“That she is.”
“You are one lucky man.”
“That I am.”
“I’ll bet you stay busy keeping all the guys away from her.”
“Yes.”
“You trust her?”
He snapped his gaze to Brandon’s inquisitive face. “What does that mean?”
Brandon raised his hands. “Simple question. A lot of the girls get swelled heads from all the attention. The boyfriend thing rarely lasts.”
“We’ve been together . . . awhile. We’re doing just fine.”
“Okay. Just checking.”
“You looking for a date, Brandon? Because if it’s with my woman, we’re going to have a problem.” He couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation. Spence typically didn’t give a shit how many guys a girl dated. He wasn’t around one long enough to find out, or to care.
Even though this was his cover and nothing more, Brandon’s suggestion and innuendo pissed him off.
“Not at all, man. Just making conversation, trying to get to know one of my dancers. I’m not interested in her, trust me.” Brandon did a double-time backpedal, then made excuses to hurry off and head back to his office.
Good thing, because owner or no, Spence was seconds from connecting his fist to Brandon’s face.
Which wouldn’t do much good for the mission, would it? He had to keep this from getting personal, on a lot of fronts.
Once again, Shadoe came out, this time dressed in some hot green skirt and belly-baring top that clung tight to her curves. She took her table and let the guys come to her, and they did, in droves. Spence stood guard over her while she was gracious and friendly and kept them drinking, which would probably make Brandon really happy.
This part of it was fine, as long as the guys didn’t touch.
Touching the girls was off-limits, especially a headliner. You could look, you could talk to them, but you couldn’t touch. There were always some guys who thought those rules didn’t apply to them, like the one sitting beside Shadoe right now. Slick, a little older, Spence pegged him right away as a regular, someone who knew all the girls, as well as all the employees at the club. He probably got granted “special favors,” like opportunities to visit one-on-one with the headliners.
In fact, the guy nodded to one of the bouncers as soon as he took his seat next to Shadoe, and the bouncer nodded back and moved toward Spence. No doubt his intent was to distract Spence so the slick dude could put his moves on Shadoe.
Spence had been working the grift longer than anyone. He knew the game. But he let the bouncer move up next to him, just to see how he planned to play it.
“Your woman is popular.”
Spence nodded. “She always has been, even before she became a headliner.”
“Piss you off, having all these guys hang on her?”
“I know where she sleeps at night.”
The bouncer turned to him. “I’m Lance.”
“Spence.” He didn’t take his gaze off Shadoe.
“My wife dances here.”
That got his attention. “Yeah? Who?”
“Cheri. Tall blonde.”
“Oh yeah. Pretty.”
Lance nodded. “She’s lead dancer here.”
“And how long have you two been together?”
“Five years. We’ve been at the Wild Rose for three.”
“Work together all the time?”
“Hell yeah. I need to keep an eye on my investment.”
His investment? Like his wife was property? What a dickhead.
Shadoe coughed and his gaze went immediately to her. He crouched down, certain he was going to have to pummel the as**ole sitting next to her.
“What’s up, babe?”
“Remind me later to tell you something,” she whispered in his ear.
“You got it.” To make a point, he gave her a deep kiss, lingering longer than necessary. When he pulled back, her eyes were glazed and she gave him a promising smile and sigh.
He straightened and Lance was still there.
“What was that all about?”
“Just keeping an eye on my investment,” he said, tossing Lance’s words back at him.
Whatever was going on between Lance and the guy sitting next to Shadoe, it never materialized. But maybe that’s because Spence moved off to Shadoe’s right and made eye contact with the guy. Unpleasant eye contact. Long enough and hard enough that the guy grew uncomfortable and left the table. Soon after that, Lance left, too.