character.”
Ty eyed her suspiciously, knowing she’d just fed him a line of bullshit. “Speaking of getting into character. Call me ‘Ty’ or ‘Mr. Masters’ at all times. In fact, do it off the clock until the case is closed.” He grinned, the gesture lethal. “I’ll call you Kat. Or when the mood strikes me, Pussy.”
Kat rose to the bait. “You think you’re man enough to make this pussy purr?”
Ty’s grin widened. “And then some. I’ve got a sudden itch for some cat scratch fever.”
She stepped closer, her nostrils flared, and she throbbed between her legs. If he didn’t watch out, he’d find her claw marks in his back. And once she sunk them into him, she wouldn’t release him, until she wanted to.
“Maybe you are man enough, but we won’t find that out anytime soon.”
She hurried past him, shutting him down cold. She wished she could say the same for herself. Her body flared hot with desire. Desire she’d never known she was capable of feeling, scaring her with its ferocity.
Remembering where she was and why, Phil made a quick tour of her tables, picking up orders from several men, who were grumbling because she’d disappeared for a couple minutes. The night rushed past her. And while she kept a suspicious eye cast over the ribald crowd, aside from the flying testosterone and gyrating body parts, Phil’s gut told her all was as it should be inside Klub Kashmir.
One dancer after another strutted, sauntered, slid, and swam across the stage, humping the pole, air, and stage floor. The more alcohol was consumed, the looser the men’s wallets became. By the end of the night, Kat counted out nearly three hundred and fifty dollars in tips.
She rubbed her throbbing feet as she turned in her tray. It wasn’t worth the pain. She almost cried when she set her bare feet down on the floor, it felt so good.
She made a mental note to bring a pair of comfy tennis shoes to wear out like the other cocktails. As she rubbed her tired sore feet, she said, “You live and learn.”
“I hope you do, Kat.”
She looked up at Ty. “I have to hand it to the other ladies. They must have cast-iron feet. I’d give anything for a foot massage right now.”
He grinned down at her. “Maybe that can be arranged.”
Before she could respond, Candi bebopped over to them, chomping her ever-present gum. “How’d it go tonight, Kitty? I saw you working some of those guys. I bet you made bank.”
Candi slipped her arm through Ty’s and hugged his arm to her breasts.
A jolt of jealousy jabbed at Phil’s gut. She didn’t care for the sensation, especially since she liked Candi. She smiled genuinely. If Candi and Ty had a thing going on, she’d be damned if she’d interfere. Besides, it would no doubt save her a broken heart in the end.
“I cleaned up. I think. Three fifty less my percentage to the house. Is that good?”
Ty coughed and Candi squealed. “Wow, were you giving blow jobs on the side, honey? I only take home twice that and I’m a featured dancer.”
Phil glanced up at Ty’s darkened face. Her cheeks warmed. She could work this place for a decade even in Kat’s skin, and still not get used to the derogatory sexual terms or the gratuitous way such acts were performed. She surmised it must be her, because she seemed to be the only one shocked by it all.
Phil opened her mouth to respond, but once again, Candi answered her question for her. “Oh, I know, you had a few lap dances.”
“Well, actually, I didn’t. I—” Phil looked up at a scowling Ty. “I’ve never done a lap dance before, I wouldn’t know what to do.”
Candi’s jaw dropped open and her gum plopped out onto the floor. “Honey, it’s just a matter of time before one of these guys pays for a lap dance. You can’t go in blind.” Candi disengaged herself from Ty. Patting his hand, she smiled up at him. “I have something for your new girl.” Candi turned to Phil. “Kitty, you stay right there. I have a video
Ty eyed her suspiciously, knowing she’d just fed him a line of bullshit. “Speaking of getting into character. Call me ‘Ty’ or ‘Mr. Masters’ at all times. In fact, do it off the clock until the case is closed.” He grinned, the gesture lethal. “I’ll call you Kat. Or when the mood strikes me, Pussy.”
Kat rose to the bait. “You think you’re man enough to make this pussy purr?”
Ty’s grin widened. “And then some. I’ve got a sudden itch for some cat scratch fever.”
She stepped closer, her nostrils flared, and she throbbed between her legs. If he didn’t watch out, he’d find her claw marks in his back. And once she sunk them into him, she wouldn’t release him, until she wanted to.
“Maybe you are man enough, but we won’t find that out anytime soon.”
She hurried past him, shutting him down cold. She wished she could say the same for herself. Her body flared hot with desire. Desire she’d never known she was capable of feeling, scaring her with its ferocity.
Remembering where she was and why, Phil made a quick tour of her tables, picking up orders from several men, who were grumbling because she’d disappeared for a couple minutes. The night rushed past her. And while she kept a suspicious eye cast over the ribald crowd, aside from the flying testosterone and gyrating body parts, Phil’s gut told her all was as it should be inside Klub Kashmir.
One dancer after another strutted, sauntered, slid, and swam across the stage, humping the pole, air, and stage floor. The more alcohol was consumed, the looser the men’s wallets became. By the end of the night, Kat counted out nearly three hundred and fifty dollars in tips.
She rubbed her throbbing feet as she turned in her tray. It wasn’t worth the pain. She almost cried when she set her bare feet down on the floor, it felt so good.
She made a mental note to bring a pair of comfy tennis shoes to wear out like the other cocktails. As she rubbed her tired sore feet, she said, “You live and learn.”
“I hope you do, Kat.”
She looked up at Ty. “I have to hand it to the other ladies. They must have cast-iron feet. I’d give anything for a foot massage right now.”
He grinned down at her. “Maybe that can be arranged.”
Before she could respond, Candi bebopped over to them, chomping her ever-present gum. “How’d it go tonight, Kitty? I saw you working some of those guys. I bet you made bank.”
Candi slipped her arm through Ty’s and hugged his arm to her breasts.
A jolt of jealousy jabbed at Phil’s gut. She didn’t care for the sensation, especially since she liked Candi. She smiled genuinely. If Candi and Ty had a thing going on, she’d be damned if she’d interfere. Besides, it would no doubt save her a broken heart in the end.
“I cleaned up. I think. Three fifty less my percentage to the house. Is that good?”
Ty coughed and Candi squealed. “Wow, were you giving blow jobs on the side, honey? I only take home twice that and I’m a featured dancer.”
Phil glanced up at Ty’s darkened face. Her cheeks warmed. She could work this place for a decade even in Kat’s skin, and still not get used to the derogatory sexual terms or the gratuitous way such acts were performed. She surmised it must be her, because she seemed to be the only one shocked by it all.
Phil opened her mouth to respond, but once again, Candi answered her question for her. “Oh, I know, you had a few lap dances.”
“Well, actually, I didn’t. I—” Phil looked up at a scowling Ty. “I’ve never done a lap dance before, I wouldn’t know what to do.”
Candi’s jaw dropped open and her gum plopped out onto the floor. “Honey, it’s just a matter of time before one of these guys pays for a lap dance. You can’t go in blind.” Candi disengaged herself from Ty. Patting his hand, she smiled up at him. “I have something for your new girl.” Candi turned to Phil. “Kitty, you stay right there. I have a video
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