car,
crossed her arms over her chest, and pointed her chin forward. Surely she could
endure her temporary humiliation for another four blocks until home.
Casey reached over her body, shocking her even more.
All he’d wanted to do was make certain she put on her seatbelt. Holding herself
rigid, he locked the belt into place, seeing as how she was doing her level
best to throw a silent tantrum, then grabbed the gear shift, slammed it into
first gear, and sped away from the curb.
It was a good thing he’d locked her into place. The
man’s driving proved he was a crazed lunatic…as well a bastard.
Only problem was, after ten blocks passed in an
absolute blur, and that crazed lunatic kept driving, Sara knew well and good
he’d lied to her. Well, technically he did not tell her the whole truth. He’d
driven past her street and was heading out of town. The only home out there was
his.
He must have known what she was going to say even
before she opened her mouth, because he said it for her.
“I said…home. I did not say which one.”
His devil grin remained rather prolific the eight full
miles it took to get there.
Chapter Four
“ W here were you last night?” Lace questioned
from the opposite side of the bar.
Tonight was two-for-one, in every sense of the word.
Two drinks, two dances, two girls—for the right price anything could be bought
inside Griffen’s Club .
Lace was taking a breather from her first pole dance.
The second would be done within the private room, where she made a ton of
money. Moreover, the reason Sara was trying to perfect the pole. If a girl
could get into the private rooms, she could make an easy grand if not more,
every night of the week.
Sara was the freeloader in Lace’s home. She contributed
what she made from bartending, but nothing more came out of her pocket. Lace
was fine with the arrangement. She told Sara she’d always wanted a roommate.
Sara hated freeloading, though it did seem to suit her
purpose. Yet she wasn’t about to put herself out on a limb because of finances.
Where else would Lace have found the perfect roommate, if Sara, the naturist,
hadn’t come along?
“I woke up at seven, and you, my friend, hadn’t slept
in your bed,” Lace added. She gave Sara a knowing look, then a knowing wink,
darting a glance to the grumpy bouncer holding vigil at the door.
“I fell asleep in the back room—after you left me here
to fend for myself,” she lied. Easy enough to do when she did not look at
Lace’s face.
Casey had taken her to his home under protest.
However, once there, he’d pointed Sara to his couch while he’d gone upstairs
within his big, fancy house, to sleep on his big, fancy bed. He hadn’t even
allowed her the comfort of a blanket; told her being cold all night was
punishment for the stolen tequila.
And he did not think two kisses and a fingering job
until nearly coming into the palm of his hand hadn’t been punishment enough?
When she awoke, cold, stiff, and pissed, there’d been
cab fare and a note set on the table, informing her she was to stay an extra
hour in the club tonight to pay him back for the cab fare.
Wretched bastard! Stinking rich, he could surely afford a few lousy bucks for the
returned safety of his employee to her home, couldn’t he?
“And why the hell ain’t you off your shift yet?” Lace
asked.
Sara raised her eyes and looked her roommate dead to
rights. “Tequila punishment.” This much she would tell her roommate. The rest
of last night she would keep a secret—for now.
Lace smiled. “How many hours did he give you?”
“Just one.”
Sara started on the order of drinks their topless
waitresses wanted. Lace’s smile held firmly in place until two of Casey’s girls
walked away.
“Just one?”
“Yep. Only one.”
“Christ! I’m surprised Boss Man didn’t bring out the
big guns, once he found out about our…um…Sunday evenings,” Lace whispered. If
any of the other girls found out,
crossed her arms over her chest, and pointed her chin forward. Surely she could
endure her temporary humiliation for another four blocks until home.
Casey reached over her body, shocking her even more.
All he’d wanted to do was make certain she put on her seatbelt. Holding herself
rigid, he locked the belt into place, seeing as how she was doing her level
best to throw a silent tantrum, then grabbed the gear shift, slammed it into
first gear, and sped away from the curb.
It was a good thing he’d locked her into place. The
man’s driving proved he was a crazed lunatic…as well a bastard.
Only problem was, after ten blocks passed in an
absolute blur, and that crazed lunatic kept driving, Sara knew well and good
he’d lied to her. Well, technically he did not tell her the whole truth. He’d
driven past her street and was heading out of town. The only home out there was
his.
He must have known what she was going to say even
before she opened her mouth, because he said it for her.
“I said…home. I did not say which one.”
His devil grin remained rather prolific the eight full
miles it took to get there.
Chapter Four
“ W here were you last night?” Lace questioned
from the opposite side of the bar.
Tonight was two-for-one, in every sense of the word.
Two drinks, two dances, two girls—for the right price anything could be bought
inside Griffen’s Club .
Lace was taking a breather from her first pole dance.
The second would be done within the private room, where she made a ton of
money. Moreover, the reason Sara was trying to perfect the pole. If a girl
could get into the private rooms, she could make an easy grand if not more,
every night of the week.
Sara was the freeloader in Lace’s home. She contributed
what she made from bartending, but nothing more came out of her pocket. Lace
was fine with the arrangement. She told Sara she’d always wanted a roommate.
Sara hated freeloading, though it did seem to suit her
purpose. Yet she wasn’t about to put herself out on a limb because of finances.
Where else would Lace have found the perfect roommate, if Sara, the naturist,
hadn’t come along?
“I woke up at seven, and you, my friend, hadn’t slept
in your bed,” Lace added. She gave Sara a knowing look, then a knowing wink,
darting a glance to the grumpy bouncer holding vigil at the door.
“I fell asleep in the back room—after you left me here
to fend for myself,” she lied. Easy enough to do when she did not look at
Lace’s face.
Casey had taken her to his home under protest.
However, once there, he’d pointed Sara to his couch while he’d gone upstairs
within his big, fancy house, to sleep on his big, fancy bed. He hadn’t even
allowed her the comfort of a blanket; told her being cold all night was
punishment for the stolen tequila.
And he did not think two kisses and a fingering job
until nearly coming into the palm of his hand hadn’t been punishment enough?
When she awoke, cold, stiff, and pissed, there’d been
cab fare and a note set on the table, informing her she was to stay an extra
hour in the club tonight to pay him back for the cab fare.
Wretched bastard! Stinking rich, he could surely afford a few lousy bucks for the
returned safety of his employee to her home, couldn’t he?
“And why the hell ain’t you off your shift yet?” Lace
asked.
Sara raised her eyes and looked her roommate dead to
rights. “Tequila punishment.” This much she would tell her roommate. The rest
of last night she would keep a secret—for now.
Lace smiled. “How many hours did he give you?”
“Just one.”
Sara started on the order of drinks their topless
waitresses wanted. Lace’s smile held firmly in place until two of Casey’s girls
walked away.
“Just one?”
“Yep. Only one.”
“Christ! I’m surprised Boss Man didn’t bring out the
big guns, once he found out about our…um…Sunday evenings,” Lace whispered. If
any of the other girls found out,
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