Mia frowned as she looked around The Landing Strip. The last six months had been a whirlwind of her finishing up her clients at MM Marketing, moving to Vegas, and forming her own company. She'd spent just about every second working her tight little ass off to make it happen, and after taking on two small contracts under her company, O'Halloran PR, we'd finally gotten around to her coming to the female club and looking at it.
“Have you guys learned nothing this year?” She turned to me, her hands on her hips. Her fiery hair flew around her shoulders as she shook her head in despair. “Offers, West! Why are there no offers? Men like cheap booze too!”
Shit. I was feeling appropriately scolded. “This is Beck's lair. Not mine.”
“And? You own fifty percent of the building, which means you own fifty percent of the marketing.”
“So does he.” I felt like a child blaming him, but I had a point. He did own it, and Landing was his responsibility. It'd been that way since we bought the building and he decided to stop dancing. It made more sense.
Mia narrowed her emerald eyes as she stared me down. “Your petulant argument isn't working in your favor, honey.”
“If I didn't know better, I'd say you just called me a child.”
“Well,” she said, spinning away and stalking to where her purse was on the bar. “It's a good thing you know better.”
I grinned, and my gaze dropped to her ass as she walked away from me. Fucking hell. It'd been months, yet I still got as hard as I did the first time I led her into the back room in Rock Solid to dance for her. Shit, just the thought of her lithe little body made my cock hard.
Combined with the knowledge of the deep purple lingerie she was wearing...
I adjusted my pants over my erection and joined her at the bar. She ignored me when I sat next to her. One look at her face told me she'd moved into what I called her 'work mode.' Trying to talk to her when she moved into this zone was like drawing blood from a stone—or common sense from Beck.
She scribbled furiously on a notepad. I could usually read her handwriting, but this time, it was like reading a doctor's note. Letters scrawled everywhere, her sentences veering off the ruled lines on the paper.
Yeah. She was definitely in her own little world.
It was quite amazing to watch her, actually. I didn't know how she thought up the kind of ideas she did, but there hadn't been a single one that hadn't worked for Rock Solid. Even the random ones she yelled at me out of the shower had boomed business, and one of those was free fucking popcorn with every round of four drinks on the theme night.
I was considering doing it once a week. Apparently drunk women enjoyed popcorn while watching pretty much naked guys dance.
Granted, it made a royal fucking mess, but it brought people in. Even if it sounded stupid.
“Stop staring at me. You're distracting me.” Mia continued writing even as she said it.
“Yeah, I can see it. Also down your shirt.”
She tugged her blouse up and over the glimpse of cleavage I could see.
I reached out and pulled it right down, then undid the top button.
She sighed and slammed her pen on top of the pad. “How do you expect me to work if you're undressing me?”
I rubbed my hand through my hair as my lips formed a dry smirk. “Really? You should know by now that if I wanted you naked, angel, you'd be fucking naked already.”
Her cheeks flushed dark pink. “West.”
“Mia.”
“Stop it. It's almost time for the bar staff to come in. You can't keep talking like that.”
“Oh, come on. You're not still embarrassed about Vicky almost catching us last week, are you?”
“Yes!” Yet again, her cheeks burned brightly. “You might not care about your staff seeing you naked—”
“They used to on a regular basis, in my defense.”
“—but I do! And if you carry on, I'm going to start wearing pants to work.”
“What if I hide all your pants?”
“Then I'll kick you in your sleep.”
I stared at her. It sounded like it was worth it, if I was honest. Easy access to her sweet cunt on a regular basis for a nightly kick at two a.m.? Yeah, it was fucking worth it. “I'm gonna hide your pants.”
She sighed heavily and packed her things inside her purse. She tucked her hair behind her ear and stood, grasping her purse tightly. “Come on. I think I have enough to get started.”
I followed her lead. I took her hand in my as I caught her up and ignored her eye-roll. So I liked touching her—always had. Always would. Touching her every second I could wasn't something I was going to compromise on, even if she did roll her eyes at me when she deemed it unnecessary or ridiculous.
“I'm going to pretend you didn't roll your eyes at me,” I said as we stepped onto the sidewalk.
She flung her hand out toward Rock Solid. “It's like twenty steps, West.”
“And your point is what, exactly?”
“It's twenty freaking steps.”