Page 12 of Filthy Ruck

“Yeah,” I said noncommittally.

My brother was more interested in treating people after they were dead. I tried not to think too much about the ones hehelped to get that way. I knew very well what he and his partners got up to. I preferred to stay out of that lifestyle. I wanted to help people, not tear literal strips off them. That was one part of my life I didn't go into detail with Sadie about. She had an inkling, but that was all. The less she knew, the better.

“Don't tell me, they wish you'd gone into bartending instead?” Sadie teased.

“My parents would be happy with whatever I did,” I said. “As long as I'm enjoying my life, that's enough for them.”

“They don't know you work at Flirts,” she stated.

I grimaced. “Not a clue. That's not something you bring up over a family dinner. What would I say anyway? Hey, Mum, Dad, I take my clothes off and fuck men for money. Can you pass the mashed potatoes?”

Sadie giggled. “I suppose that would be awkward. I mean, mashed potatoes of all things.”

I laughed. “Yes, that's the takeaway here. Deconstructed potatoes. Nothing to do with the rest of it.”

“Have I ever told you what happened to Yolanda?” Sadie asked. “She worked at Flirts before you did. One night, she was in the middle of a show when an older guy walked through the door. For at least two or three minutes, he stood there staring at her, saying nothing. We've all seen that before, right?”

I nodded and gestured for her to continue.

“When he finally snapped out of it, he pointed at her and said, 'That's my daughter up there on the stage.' As you can imagine, she was absolutely mortified. He clapped a hand over his eyes, turned and tried to walk out the door. He might have bounced off the wall on the way out.” She grinned.

I choked back a laugh. “That would be my worst nightmare. My father seeing me half-naked on stage. Or coming out of one of the private rooms with a customer.”

“It could be worse,” she said. “He couldbethe customer.”

“Sadie!” I shook my head at her. “That would definitely be worse.” What people did behind closed doors was their business, but I had no interest in being intimate with my father. “What happened to Yolanda?”

“She never came back after that,” Sadie said. “I don't think she could bring herself to perform. Although, safe to say, there was no way he was walking back through the door.”

“Poor thing.” I took another sip of wine. “I can't say I blame her. I'd probably die of embarrassment, if that's even possible.”

“In this case, it probably was,” she agreed. “Much better to be seen naked by guys like Storm Keller. Which brings us back to him. Does he smell as good as he looks?”

“Better,” I said with a sigh. “There's nothing quite like the smell of honest sweat. It was good on him.”

Not like he wasn't washed, but like he trained hard and played hard. Of course, now I was thinking about his cock and how hard it was the other night. I couldn't let him get under my skin, but he might get under the lace of my panties.

“I wouldn't be opposed to an introduction to him,” Sadie said. “Or any of the guys on the team. For research, of course.”

“What are you researching?” I asked.

“An in-depth comparison of the skills of rugby union players versus ice hockey players,” she said. “Doesn't the world need to know which one of them fuck better? I'm happy to do the research and reveal my findings for the good of humanity.”

“You're so noble,” I teased. “What a sacrifice to make.”

And yet, the idea of Storm touching her made me see red around the edges. I owed him nothing, and he owed me the same, but I couldn't suppress the burst of anger without a gulp of wine.

“Right?” Sadie cocked her head at me. “Are you sure you're not into him? You look kinda pissed off right now. I can stayaway from him. No problem. You know the last thing I want to do is step on your toes.”

My anger dissipated as quickly as it came. “I know. There's nothing to step on, really. We've had two conversations and watched each other have orgasms. That's all there is to it. Aside from that, he's a patient, and my position is tenuous until the placement is over. When I have a full-time position, I might have time to rethink being involved with him or someone else. I can't afford to lose this opportunity.”

“I can't afford to lose your friendship,” she said softly. “Especially over a guy. Knowing men like him, he's a total fuck boy.” She rolled her hips a couple of times, miming thrusting. She could have been a dancer with those moves, but she preferred to stay behind the bar and flirt with customers from there. And disappear into private rooms with them after a shift, from time to time. Mostly, she stuck to serving drinks and keeping an eye on the dancers to make sure no one was being bothered or harassed.

“Fuck boy, ruck boy,” I said with a nod.

He had exactly that vibe. Like he said, he'd never had to pay for sex. No doubt he had women throwing themselves at him right and left. Being famous and hot would do that for a guy. He didn't need me, Chelsea Miller, and he didn't need Panther. That night was nothing more than a distraction.

What about him being possessive then? Maybe we just got caught up in the moment. Us being so close to each other. Me standing up and telling him what I thought. He might not be used to that. Some guys like to be told to back the fuck off. It had the opposite effect on them. The more they were told to go away, the more they wanted to stay.

---