I pull her up onto her feet and steady her.
“You all right, babe?” I ask concerned, looking her over for injuries.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she mutters out of breath, running her hands down her bare stomach.
“Go take a break,” I demand, tugging her away from the stage.
As she walks away, I see the fat guy trying to stand up, shaking his head back and forth from where I hit him. His mouth bloody, dripping onto his greasy shirt.
I stride forward and grab him by the collar, pulling him close.
“Get out of my club, now,” I hiss, my tone a promising threat.
“Fine, man,” he answers, trying to pull from my hold. I let go and watch him stumble out of the club, holding his mouth.
“Damn, brother, you only took over for a couple hours and you manage to beat up a customer?” Tom Cat asks, watching the guy leave. I look over my shoulder, not realizing Tom was even here.
“He was damn near pulling one of the girls off the stage by her leg,” I defend, pointing at the now empty stage.
“I’m going to go make sure she’s not hurt,” I continue, making my way back into the dressing room.
I may have lost my cool, not handling things in the most professional way. But one thing my father taught me is to treat women with respect. I love women, and to see one hurt from a fucking bastard getting his rocks off by treating them like shit, I can’t handle it. I’ve witnessed my dad punch a guy’s teeth out for slapping an underage girl’s ass at a gas station before. The memory still makes me smirk. My dad was a badass when he wanted to be.
I push open the red door covered in a gold design, and walk right into the ladies’ dressing room. There are a bunch of vanities on both sides of the room. Small tables with huge back mirrors attached are outlined in light bulbs, along with chatty women sitting at them. I walk past a bunch of them, their tits hanging out, and some spraying perfume on them. At the back of the room, I spot the girl who was being harassed and go to her.
“You sure you’re all right?” I ask, stopping a few feet from her station.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she responds, standing up. She has on a white thong and lacy top. It’s sexy. I didn’t notice it before from all the commotion.
“What happened?” Diamond asks, walking up to us.
“He rescued me from some scumbag trying to pull me off the stage,” the blonde informs, rolling her eyes.
“You saved Sugar?” Diamond asks, her eyes raised in praise. “I mean I saw some commotion from my stage, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”
I shrug. “I guess I saved Sugar,” I laugh nervously, running my hand along my neck.
“I think Bobby deserves a treat,” Diamond suggests scandalously as her hand slides up my chest.
“Ooh, that is a great idea,” Sugar agrees, her voice like silk as she walks behind me, running her hand over my shoulder.
The thought of two strippers fucking me is appealing, but regardless of what Jessica thinks, I am not about to give up on her. Sleeping with these two girls would make feel like I’m cheating, and my mother raised me better than that.
“I can’t ladies. I’m on the clock,” I laugh, my heart thudding against my chest in complete panic that I am turning down a threesome.
“Aww, baby,” Diamond purrs.
“Darn, that would have been fun,” Sugar adds, walking away.
“My shift is over. Wanna take me to get something to eat?” Diamond suggests.
I look down and see her honey-colored eyes peering up at me. I feel like shit ignoring her calls the last few days.
“Yeah, I can do that. Where you wanna eat?” I ask, running my hand over my chin, my eyes having a hard time not darting to the naked redhead walking by.
“Mexican, anywhere Mexican,” she informs. “I know just the place,” she continues, pointing at me as she walks to her mirror.
I smirk and nod.
Jessica
I sit across from Shane, a bowl of chips separating us and some Spanish music playing in the background. Luckily, no photographers have shown up yet.
“You look different,” Shane remarks, popping a chip into his mouth and crunching down on it loudly.
“I do?” I question, grabbing a chip from the bowl as well.
“Yeah, less stressed. You been working less?” he asks, chomping on another chip and staring at me.
“No, about the same,” I respond, taking a bite.
Shane nods, and looks off.
I pull my phone out and check it, making sure I haven’t missed any calls over the music. I am on call tonight, so I have to be alert.
“You seeing anyone?” Shane continues, his eyes staring at me intently.