The man’s dark eyes flicked to the bill, then back to Josh’s face, but his body never moved and his hands remained at his sides. “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t give out personal information on the girls.”
The girls.
Josh’s stomach twisted. The sweat gathering on his neck slid down the indention of his spine. He swallowed the ball in his throat and pressed the money into the bouncer’s massive hand. “I’m a friend, and I need to tell her something about her family.”
The man’s fingers curled around the money. “I just saw her out on the floor. But she goes by Nicole here, so don’t call her Grace. And don’t interfere with her work,” he warned, his voice growing hard, “or I’ll hurt you.”
Josh acknowledged the bouncer’s threat with a single nod, then took a deep breath, and strolled into the main club. He should feel relieved—he’d found her. But working the floor meant she was soliciting lap dances from spectators. He held on tight to denial while apprehension wound deep in his gut along with a hundred unanswered questions.
He immediately swept the club for layout, exits, and head count. A large, curved stage took up the most real estate, the glass base sleek and dotted with three stripper poles. Beneath the glass, lights faded on and off, making the floor glow in sensuous blues and violets, but the women dancing on the stage needed no enhancements. A blonde swayed on the far left leg of the stage, her major assets: enormous tits. A redhead writhed against the gold pole center stage, generous hips pumping. And a tall, leggy Asian woman rocked the stage on all fours to the right. Each wore nothing but heels or boots and a feathered or sparkling G-string.
Despite his distaste for these clubs, Josh’s blood heated and his cock tingled with a surge of lust, reminding him it had been way too long since he’d gotten laid. Like an idiot, he’d been holding out for Rachel. Since she’d jetted to the east coast with that head case, Ryker, Josh had been working too much to get into dating. And the whole one-night-stand thing worked better for him as a SEAL, when he’d only been in town for a few days before heading off on another mission. Now when he took a woman to bed, there was nowhere to hide the next day. Or the next week. Or the next month. And he hadn’t met anyone he wanted to promise he’d call in the future.
“Nature of the Beast” transitioned into something slower that Josh didn’t recognize, a song with a thick, sensual beat and nasty rap lyrics about pulling hair, a man of steel, and candy rain. The powerful beat throbbed beneath Josh’s feet and straight up his legs. On stage, three more women emerged from behind crimson draperies, while those who’d been dancing, pranced out of sight. The whole switcheroo had been both entertaining and smooth, and the new girls, wearing a variety of outfits covering all their assets at this point, moved with slow sashays and gyrating hips.
He pulled his gaze from the new performers and scoped out the bar, which filled one long wall of the club. He needed to get a look at all the women on the floor to eliminate the possibility that the Grace he was looking for worked there.
Two female bartenders worked behind the heavy, shiny wood expanse, wearing red lace corsets and velvet Santa hats. Two more women stood by holding trays, wearing some sort of elf suit. Their emerald-green skirts were trimmed in white faux fur and so short, their black-lace-covered ass cheeks showed. Their matching halter-style tops were cut deep in the front, exposing plenty of plump cleavage. And their boots—thigh-high, sleek, and black patent, like their low-slung belts.
Josh immediately pictured Grace in that outfit—or at least tried. But his mind couldn’t fit those puzzle pieces together. As long as Josh had known her, Grace had never worn anything more revealing than a sundress.
Josh pushed his hands into his pockets and wandered toward the bar, where he leaned against a stool, searching every elf for Grace’s cute little strawberry-blonde bob. Booths lined the walls, individual tables took up the center of the club, and premium plush seating ringed the stage up front, where men called out to the women and slipped dollar bills into sparkling G-strings.
Several dancers milled among the patrons, chatting, touching, taking them by the hand and leading them up a spiral staircase to private rooms. Josh had never been in one, but he knew exactly what went on in there—guys were not
shy about spilling every detail of their strip club encounters. The thought of Grace selling herself that way made him sick and doubled his determination to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with her.
“Hey, handsome. Haven’t seen you here before.”
Josh didn’t exactly startle at the seductive female voice behind his left shoulder, but his muscles went rigid. He turned to face a tiny woman with big brown eyes—and big, bouncy tits barely covered in a green velvet halter. She too wore a Santa-style hat, this one green to match the elf getup, sporting a big fluffy white fur ball at the point. She caressed the sleeve of Josh’s sport jacket with one hand, the other holding an empty tray against her hip.
“I’m Stephie.” She tipped her head and looked up at him through thick black lashes heavily coated with mascara. “Why don’t you buy me a drink while we get acquainted?”
A heavy, powdery scent wafted off her, along with her body heat. His nerve endings seemed to spread along the surface of his skin and sing to attention. Which meant, yeah, definitely too little sex in way too long, because she wasn’t his type at all.
“Actually…” He pulled a twenty from his pocket. “I’d appreciate it if you could point out Nicole for me.”
Her eyes lowered to the bill, then returned to his, a sly little smile on her lips. She slipped the twenty from Josh’s fingers with an enthusiastic “Easiest twenty I’ve made all night.”
She turned and pointed toward a shadowed corner where a group of rowdy younger men sat near the stage. A woman stood between two chairs, her back facing Josh. She was leaning forward, her hands braced on the men’s shoulders.
The woman who went by Nicole wore a one-shouldered, skintight black dress that clung to every luscious curve and barely covered her ass. Tanned legs stretched long and lean beneath the hem, made even longer—and sexier—by the sparkling spiked heels she wore. One side of the dress had diamond-shaped cutouts, showing a nice amount of evenly tanned skin all along her body, right down to her hip. The fabric gathered and was held together with clear rhinestones down her side. There was no way she was wearing anything underneath.
Josh didn’t recognize her as Grace. This woman had copper-colored hair falling in curls to the middle of her back. Right color—wrong length. And Grace had always been thin, with a more boyish straight-up-and-down figure. Josh would have noticed curves like those.
Wouldn’t he?
“In the black,” Stephie said. “Nicole. That’s who you’re looking for, right?”
“Don’t think that’s her,” he told Stephie. “But thanks.”
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Yes, please. Jack and Coke. Double would be good.”
“Be right back.”
When he slid his blazer off, his bad shoulder pulled, reminding him of the football incident. He tossed it over the back of the chair, and rolled up his sleeves before sitting, his eyes locked on the woman in black, waiting for a glimpse of her face. But his peripheral vision was picking up the brazenly erotic moves on the stage, and combined with the music, the lyrics, and the atmosphere, Josh’s body was definitely responding. His cock had grown thick, and the confinement of his slacks added pressure along his length. His heart was beating too fast, his body was too hot, his throat too tight.