Page 12 of Jagger

We don’t stop, though. As cute as they are, not screwing around with the waitresses is another one of Betty’s golden rules, one the boys and I actually stick to. Things could get messy with them being co-workers and none of us have time for that shit.

Slipping behind the privacy curtain, Sinclair and I tread through the dark to the dressing room. I can hear Rush going off about something while Calvin howls his usual laugh. Just hearing my boys puts me in a better mood. Wrapping a hand around the knob, I throw the door open and rush inside with Sin on my tail.

“Knock, knock, fuckers. Daddy’s home!”

* * *

A few hours later,I’m balls deep in a striptease with this sexy little blonde, her pert ass in my grasp as she rolls into me in time with the music.

Yeah, I know, not usually how this works, but I’m sure as hell not complaining.

At some point during my dance—with her friends egging her on, I might add—she’d shifted into my lap to give me a tease of her own. And I let her ‘cause shit, I’m buzzed after a few shots, and the little mewls she makes when I press her against my dick is exactly what I want to hear after a long ass week of dealing with Calla’s bullshit.

“Yo, Jag!” I hear Ronin somewhere amidst Tinashe’s voice blasting through the room.

With my hand in…

Fuck, what’s her name?

Um… I think it’s Maci, so we’ll just go with that.

With my hand threaded in Maci’s hair, I give her ass a little slap, and peer around her small frame to find Rush. He’s right at the edge of the table, that knowing smirk set firmly in place. “You got a request. Bachelorette party.”

I hold up two fingers and he nods in understanding, wading back out into the madness to get things started for me.

“You heard the man, I’ve gotta go,” I tell Maci.

She juts out her bottom lip. “Well, that’s not fair. I was just about to haul you into VIP.”

“Give me an hour and I’ll do better than VIP.” I grin.

Like my car.

Maci nods with a sultry wink as I hoist her off my lap and set her back on the booth with her friends, stalking off in search of Ronin without a glance back. My dick is not fucking happy, but I have a job to do, and money comes first. It’s not like we won’t be ramming that pussy in the back of my LC soon enough. I told her an hour, but chicks like her all operate the same.

Easy.

Predictable.

I could take three hours and she’ll still be waiting for me.

Rush is looming over a booth covered in pink bachelorette paraphernalia when I sidle up beside him and slip an arm around his shoulders, quickly scanning the small group of ladies who are clearly a little past the limit.

Laughing, slurring their words, the whole nine drunken yards.

Yeah, this is going to be fun.

That’sI notice the woman at the very end. A leg crossed over the other, she’s leaned forward on one elbow, cupping a wine glass in her hand. She chortles whenever her friends belt something out, but the smile never touches her eyes. Tense would describe her best, almost as if she feels out of place, and when her bright green eyes suddenly meet mine, I’m nearly struck stupid by her beauty.

Holy fuck.

She’s stunning, with this exotic air to her. Maybe mixed or Hispanic.

My fucking weakness.

Dressed far more modest than her friends—in this plum, long-sleeved number that showed off her legs—I can’t take my eyes off her. Whatever thoughts I had about fucking Maci in my car just two minutes ago shatter into nothing.

My focus is now solely on her.

---