Stripped - A Forbidden Hot Boss Romance

I focused my eyes on Johnny. “I can’t believe you sold the club behind my back. Phyllis wouldn’t want this.”

Johnny’s lips turned down. “Phyllis wouldn’t want me to work myself into the grave either. From next week, Noah, Jack, Liam, and Shane are your new bosses. I need you to show them the ropes. You know more about this place than anyone else. Please don’t let me down. Help me like I helped you.”

My shoulders slumped. I could walk out and get a job at another club, but none would earn me anything close to what I made at The Bachelor. And, besides, Johnny had been good to me, and I owed him. For now, I would stick around, but I would also look for a way to get my own club. “I won’t let you down,” I promised.

One of the new owners spoke up. With his shaggy dark hair and glowing tan, he wouldn’t have looked out of place on a beach with a surfboard beneath his arm, but the look he gave me was had none of that relaxed vibe. “I’m looking forward to learning the ropes and hopefully getting tied up with some.”

“Shut the fuck up, Noah,” Liam spat.

My nostrils flared, and I placed my hands on my hips. “Noah, sweetie, let’s get one thing clear. The women here might take their clothes off for men like you to leer at, but that’s as far as it goes. If you so much as lay a finger on anyone or make any more stupid innuendos, I’ll stab your balls with my icepick heels. We’re all professionals. Understand?”

His cheeks reddened, and he lowered his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

I looked at each of them in turn. “That goes for all of you. Now,” I said, smiling as sweetly as I could and trying to make the best out of a bad situation, “Do I answer to all four of you?”

“Just me.” The one who’d stared me down stepped forward. The way his chocolate brown eyes ate me up sent shivers up and down my spine, and I hated how my body reacted to him.

“And you are?” I asked, my lips aching from trying to keep my smile in place.

“I’m Shane O’Brien. I’m in charge of the day to day running. The others will come and go but will focus on our other bars and nightclubs.”

I snorted. “Guess you drew the short straw?”

“No,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m the only one who can be trusted in a place like this.”

“And why’s that?”

He flicked his eyes around the club. “Because I hate strippers.”

A wisp of wind could have knocked me over.

Of all the answers I’d expected, that hadn’t been one of them.Chapter Three - ShaneThe day after we reached a deal with Johnny, we shut the doors of The Bachelor for a full refurbishment. We had a staff meeting to let everyone know they’d get paid a basic hourly rate while we were closed. However, none of the talent was happy.

Alyssa asked if we would cover the $6,000 she usually made. All of our eyes bugged out at that figure. We’d never imagined taking your clothes off could bring in that kind of cash.

We reiterated she’d get an hourly rate like everyone else. Plus, we guaranteed she’d make double her usual weekly haul when we reopened. She seemed skeptical. The girl was smart.

The night we’d come to the club to check the place out, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her and imagined her long red hair wrapped around my hand. The curve of her hips and the upward swell of her perfect tits left me struggling to keep my cock soft.

When we’d first met, I’d acted like a fucking dick. The way Alyssa had stared at me when I told her I hated strippers shamed me to my soul. That was a shitty thing to say. I should have apologized and explained, but I didn’t. Instead, I turned around and knocked back a shot of bourbon. When I turned back, she was gone.

What I’d really wanted to do was find her, then find a dark corner and get to know her better, but that was something that wouldn’t happen. I wasn’t my father. I was her employer, and I had to remember she shook her ass for a living.

She used her body and her face to manipulate men into giving her their money. Not every stripper was like Missy and on the lookout for a baby daddy, and yet I couldn’t allow myself to trust Alyssa.

But most of all, I couldn’t trust myself.

Tonight, we would open our doors for the first time. Our contractors had worked 24-hours a day for the past week, ripping out and replacing the fixtures and fittings. The old interior, while clean and well maintained, was dated and stank like stale cigars.