Page 32 of Forbidden Heroes

Instead of hurting my friend’s feelings, I opt for another obvious truth. “That’s not it. It’s just that I don’t have all that golden skin or your legs, and my ass is probably a little too…err…let’s say less than perfect.” I wiggle a finger her way. “You, on the other hand, have the whole package and enough sex appeal to knock out the entire male population in a five-mile radius.”

Amber scoffs at my perfect description of her. “You need a better mirror. Stop selling yourself short. You’re sexy and don’t even know it. That’s by far more powerful than any amount of long legs and tanned skin. And your ass is hot, by the way. I see how the café owner eyes it with more enthusiasm than a man his age should have for a girl your age every time you go there for coffee. And we both know Professor Cole basically drools when he sees you in the hallways. He’s mind-fucking your tits every which way from Sunday at least three times a week.”

I scrunch my nose up and change the subject. I like older men but not elderly. “How do you know all this about the strip club anyway?”

Amber sits straighter and looks around before leaning in a fraction. Her expression gives away an inner turmoil. “Hey, okay. So please don’t judge, but…I…huh…I started working there a few weeks ago.”

She blushes deeply, and I take her hand in mine.

It makes me furious that life has to be so damn unfair to people who work so hard to get ahead and are as genuinely kind-hearted as Amber. “Hey, no judging zone, remember?”

I mentally run the numbers of the cost of tuition versus lousy paychecks this town offers. Maybe I’m being too much of a prude after all. Shouldn’t I at least consider all options?

I lean forward. “Do you think a job like that can really rake in a large paycheck? I might be willing to do a little pole shimmying beside you if it makes a few grand in…” I pull out a white envelope from my bag and open the tuition statement from the university. “…exactly seventy-two hours.”

My friend rolls her eyes. “Yeah, no. Not that fast. That’s not going to happen. I’m lucky if I make a hundred in tips a night. This isn’t some joint in the heart of Vegas or some swanky high-end establishment in New York.”

I fumbled the little packets holding the fortune cookies. Maybe there was a better answer inside one of those crunchy little cookies. “You mentioned a second option?” I’m almost too scared to ask but what the hell, right?

A devilish grin spreads across Amber’s lips as she considers me for a few seconds. “Lux’s.”

My fingers still, and my mouth drops open.

“Lux? As in the super-secret gentleman’s club on the outskirts of town? That fortress of a castle-like place that looks like Dracula will walk out of the dungeon at any minute.”

She shoots an imaginary finger gun at me before taking one of my cookies. “Yep! That’s the one.”

Fuck.

It’s only the most whispered about club in all of Maine, and people of my caliber don’t belong there. People travel from surrounding states, and farther, to be considered a member of such a prestigious society made up of some of the wealthiest in not only the United States but from all over, if the rumors are to be believed. I like to think of it as the Hamptons of Maine with a hint of dirty. I don’t know for sure, but I do know no one has done anything to dispel them.

From the outside, the castle-like mansion appears to be misplaced in time by a century or two with an alluring gothic vibe. Through a thicket of pines, gargoyles perched atop high stone walls topped with spires can be appreciated from the scenic mountain road in passing. Add in the members-only entry and you have all the fodder one needs to have the rumor mills churning.

“I’m not hooking myself out. High-end or not. I do that and everyone in this town will know. I haven’t landed at that level yet. I’d like to leave that option below stripping if it comes to it.”

Amber nods. “Your mom and dad still having problems?”

“I can’t seem to find a way to break my father out of his depression after that damn accident. I’m afraid with the boys’ deployment overseas, my mom will fall in the same decline right along with my dad.”

“Listen, I know this has to be tough. I know. Okay.”

“I know you do.”

Amber takes my hand in hers.

“Just think about it. The auction is a benefit for helping the disabled. That’s right in your wheelhouse, plus you get paid for your time. Twenty percent. Last month I made five grand for a dinner with a couple of gentlemen and after our shared meal, they drove me home and thanked me for sharing my time with them. End of story. They hold the auction at this address, and the next one is tomorrow evening.”

Amber pulls out a black card with raised gold lettering and slips it into my hand.

“Are you sure no sleeping with the winners is necessary? I see that blush and twinkle in your eye just talking about it.”

Amber shrugs but doesn’t hold my gaze. “I did one auction but I’m sworn to secrecy, as you’ll find out. But I will say this. What girl doesn’t love the attention from two gorgeous men with swoon-worthy middle-eastern accents that, by all accounts, no doubt woo women right out of their panties? But…I don’t know.”

There’s a flash of something in her eyes, and I hear a longing in my friend’s voice that wasn’t there the last time we spoke.

“But you have your eyes on someone else, don’t you?” I ask softly. I know the feeling all too well. Only Professor Blackthorne doesn’t know I exist beyond being the girl in the third row of his psych class. He doesn’t know I spend half his lecture in stupid wildly inappropriate daydreams, wondering what his hot lips would feel like wrapped around my excited nipples. Or, like yesterday, the filthiest fantasy to date. Him spreading my thighs as he lays me back across his desk and making me whimper with need as he slips his cockhead between my untouched folds. In my fantasy, he’s taking me bare, and I feel every delicious, throbbing vein in his thick cock as he punches my V card and claims me as his forever.

He definitely has no idea Emberly issued me the same dare I gave her, which was to take what I want. A dare to go after the man that makes me weak in the knees, steals my thoughts at odd times of the day and makes me wetter than the Niagara Falls in the middle of his class…as well as study time, meals, bedtime. Okay, every freaking waking minute of my day. Even now juice pools between my thighs and dampens my panties.