The Dancer - Page 9

I held my fingers above my lips as I studied her while she stared back at me. No scratch that, that wasn’t a stare, but a glower.

Now that I had her here I didn’t know what the hell to do next. I’d acted without thinking which wasn’t something I was known for. But the thought of her dancing in that place made my skin crawl.

We might be on the same street, but we’re miles apart in everything else. That still didn’t explain why I didn’t want her dancing in my place, or why I’d ran out the door after her.

“Do you know how many laws you’ve just broken?”

“I’m not concerned.”

“Why have you brought me here?” Fuck if I know. I’m still trying to figure that shit out myself.

If I tell her about my sixth sense there’s a sure bet she’d laugh her ass off. Only I know that shit’s real. But the fact that she’s nowhere near my type is throwing me off.

She fidgeted under my unwavering stare which I didn’t break until she started to get up from the chair. “Stay!” I knew in my gut that if she walked out the door I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

“What is your problem? Why do you keep giving me canine commands?”

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to. Look, let’s start over.” I rubbed my hand over my face to give myself a few seconds. Shit didn’t work.

“Why do you want to dance?”

“Why is that any of your business?” She looked me dead in my face and asked me that shit.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Does it look like I care?” Does she really not give a shit? Or is that just false bravado?

“I’ll repeat the question. Think long and hard before you answer this time or you may not like my response.” If looks could kill I’d be six feet deep.

I realized that she was the first female to give me shit ever in my life. Even as a young man in high school and beyond, girls used to take my shit no matter what kind of mood I was in.

Only my mother would put me in my place if I got out of hand. Come to think of it, I don’t recall ever treating a female in such a shabby fashion before. I was usually much smoother when dealing with the opposite sex.

I didn’t stop to think why this one in particular had brought out this side of me. I just knew that I didn’t want her shaking her ass on a stage for leering men to paw at and make lewd comments about to their friends.

She wasn’t the youngest or the prettiest one to cross these doors in the past few years that I’ve been here. But for some reason she was the one to catch my notice. I’d try to figure that shit out when it didn’t feel like my head was about to spin off my shoulders.

I’m thinking my instincts might be off on this one. There’s nothing remotely appealing about this girl. Not that she’s not pretty she’s that and more. But she doesn’t have that raw edge to her. That quality that I always look for in a woman that assures me there will be no drama when I kick her out of my bed.

“Let’s try this again. I won’t ask why you want to dance since the question is moot. No one in this city will hire you to dance.” I’ll make sure of that shit. She opened her mouth no doubt to swear at me some more, but I held up a finger to put her on pause.

“I’m not finished. If it’s a job you’re after, I’m more than willing to give you one, but not as a stripper. Believe it or not, in my place, some of the waitresses make just as much and sometimes more than the dancers. It all depends on their shifts.”

“I’ve never worked as a waitress before.”

“Does that mean you’ve danced before?” From the way she shifted her eyes and tugged at her bag I took that to mean she wasn’t going to answer.

“Fine! If you want the job it’s yours. You will be trained so that’s not an issue. The hours are long on the weekends but the pay is worth it.”

I actually tensed up as I waited for her to reject my offer, and only relaxed when she didn’t. I was still trying to take her in, still trying to figure out what about her was making me sweat.

I had a sneaky suspicion I knew what the fuck was up, but there was no way. Then again life likes to fuck with me for pure shits and giggles. Whatever the cause, I knew I had to follow through. Because as fucked up as this shit is, my sixth sense has never steered me wrong before.

Tags: Jordan Silver Billionaire Romance
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