Page 3 of Filthy Ruck

Almost as big as Gary, his grey-eyed gaze penetrated right into me. Like he'd seen more than my naked body. Mr Front Row made no attempt to touch me. Not yet anyway.

“Hey." I stopped and smiled. Not the plastic smile I usually gave people who approached me here in the club. This one was a little warmer, a little more genuine. Why? Because I sensed he'd see right through that façade. Being facetious wouldn't get me any more money.

“Buy you a drink?” He gestured towards the bar.

“Sure.” I stepped over beside him and ordered a house special. Cola on the rocks, no alcohol. I didn't drink on the job. Either of them. Getting drunk here was too dangerous and Divina hated us getting messy. A strip club wasn't a place to let my guard down, not even with the threat of Gary looming over customers.

He ordered a light beer and leaned his elbow on the bar. “I'm guessing Sparkle isn't your real name.”

I laughed and took a sip of my drink. “What makes you think that? Don't I look like a Sparkle?" I patted my hair and looked coy.

He snorted. “Fuck no. Unless that's your real name.” He clearly didn't believe that for a moment.

“It's not,” I admitted. “I didn't even choose it for myself.” It was Divina's idea. Of course it was. Who else would come up with a stage name like that?

“What would you choose?” He looked at me over the rim of his glass and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“I have no idea,” I said. “What would you choose for me?” I cocked my head at him. I'd played this game before, but I was curious what someone like him would come up with.

He looked thoughtful. “A cat name. Leopard or Panther. Something smooth and sexy.”

That was a better suggestion than the usual 'Hot Tits', or 'Wet Pussy.' Some guys had no imagination.

“I like that,” I said. “Panther would have worked. All in black. Leather pants and a black leather bra.”

He adjusted his pants. “Panther it is. I'm Storm. Storm Keller. Yes, that's my real name.” He offered me his hand.

I shook it. “It suits you. Your eyes are the colour of storm clouds.” Almost as dangerous. Something swirled in those depths. Something a girl could get caught up in too easily, if she wasn't careful.

“Yours are the colour of the sky in the middle of winter,” he said, looking into mine, appraising me. “Panther with pretty blue eyes.”

“Sparkle!” a new voice said from the other side of me. “How much for a blowjob?”

I turned as a handful of fifty dollar notes were pushed in the direction of my chest. They were accompanied by an eager looking customer with desperate eyes.

I was taken aback. Not because I wasn't used to exactly this scenario, but because I had, for a few moments, been caught up in the conversation with Storm.

“Come on, slut,” the new guy insisted. “That's what you're here for. You show us your pussy and I fuck your mouth. Right here works for me.” He undid the front of his jeans and pushed them down far enough for his small erection to spring free.

“The lady is occupied,” Storm said, his voice as dark as the clouds in his eyes. “She's with me.” He draped an arm over my shoulders, the tips of his fingers barely touching my upper arm. Possessive, but with a hint of respect.

“Fuck off.” The asshole was persistent. “I'm paying good money for this. She can suck me off and then you can fuck her brains out for all I care. Come on, bitch. On your knees.”

“Like he said, I'm occupied,” I said coolly.

I looked over to Storm and smiled. “There's a private room we can use, big boy.” I slipped out from under his arm, took his hand and led him away from the customer who gaped and swore after us.

Chapter Two

Chelsea

I closedthe door behind me and Storm and leaned against it for a moment.

“Thanks. Guys like that really—” I shook my head.

“Need to fuck all the way off,” Storm rumbled. He looked tempted to step back outside and acquaint the dickhead with his fist.

“Yeah.” I punctuated that with a half-laugh. It was nothing I couldn't handle, but I appreciated him stepping in. Most guys didn't. Some of them pretended not to see, and others would have egged the pushy prick on. Usually, only the bouncers stepped in if the dancers couldn't take care of themselves. Which, for the most part, we could.

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