Page 9 of Scorched King

It wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen her before. And every inch of her for that matter. She’d been stripping at the club for a while now. While I’d been too busy to go down there lately, I had a memory for every detail and her details were straight up perfection.

Especially those fucking curves.

I wasn’t into skinny women, and Sasha’s body was pure perfection. Who cared if that sounded like a cliche, it was true and that was all that mattered. I was a big damned man, who liked to fuck hard, and the last thing I wanted to worry about was breaking someone.

I watched her cross the room, her long legs on full gorgeous display under one of the tiniest skirts I’d ever seen. She took a seat at the table where the other women had gathered. While many of the women who hung around or worked here, liked to pair up with a biker, not all did.

Some just enjoyed the party.

“Fuck, she’s hot,” Axel rumbled next to me. “It’s no wonder she’s our most popular dancer. That girl is specialandmaking us rich.”

I didn’t have to ask who he meant. We all knew. Every man at the table had their eyes on her and I was about to lose my shit over it. Of course I was about five sheets to the wind, because I’d hit three a long time ago and kept drinking.

“I wonder if she’ll ride my dick tonight?” Cash mused, his words drunkenly slurred. I immediately wanted to fucking lay him out for talking about her that way. A woman like her did not need any of his filthy shit.

Zook snorted. “Ain’t no one touching your drunk ass dick tonight, dude. Hell, you probably can’t even get it up.”

“Oh yeah?” Cash sneered. “You volunteering to check it for me? Cause I can tell you right now, it’s more than a chub already from looking at the likes of her.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I growled, clenching my fists on the table to control my actions. I was the last person to start a fight, considering it was my job to end them.

When every man turned in my direction, I realized my mistake. Why should I care if they wanted to sit around talking trash? The women here knew the deal. If you didn’t want to be ogled, talked about, or approached then you had no business in our clubhouse. Simple as that.

I wasn’t a fucking HR department.

“You looking to make a move, boss?” Zook asked, as all eyes looked at me waiting for an answer.

“You heard what Axel said, she’s making us rich. I’m not letting any of you yahoos fuck that up just to get laid. Unless she invites your ass, find someone else. And even if she does, you’d better be fucking careful. She seems like the type to catch feelings and the minute one of y’all breaks her heart and she quits, I’m beating your ass and busting you back to prospect.”

A low whistle sounded from Axel when I sat back against the chair. My muscles were tight and my heart pounded hard. But I’d said what I’d said and meant every word of it. Even if in hindsight I might have wanted to keep most of that to myself.

The silence my outburst had caused stretched across the room as the tension seethed just beneath the surface. I’d pretty much killed the party vibe over nothing—she wasn’t an old lady, and I had no right to interfere in her personal life or theirs.

“You all heard him. Now somebody get us some more beer before I lose this buzz.”

The room burst into laughter and just like that Axel got the party back where it belonged. I desperately needed to take a beat, or go back to drinking. The solution to the world’s problems might not lie at the bottom of that damned bottle, but it sure as fuck made them easier to ignore.

I leaned against the back of the couch and spread my legs out in front of me, shoving my hands through my hair, noticing again that I needed a haircut.

“I could cut that for you.” A soft voice from the side of the couch sounded in my ear and I closed my eyes to let the melody of it soothe my soul like a much needed balm.

“You cut hairandstrip?” I cringed at my words the second they left my mouth. Fuck. I turned my head to see the frown on Sasha’s face and the red flush of hurt crawling up her neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”

“Sure you did.” She smirked. “You are not the kind of man who says things he doesn’t mean. Although for someone who owns a strip club, you have a limited understanding of the talent that goes into what I do. It’s not just as simple as jumping on the stage and removing my clothes. It’s as much about the preparation as it is the act.”

In theory I knew that, otherwise all the girls would be equally popular. I’d heard our club manager talk about what goes into the girls’ routines and what makes one dancer better than the other. But if I was being honest, I still didn’t think much beyond it being a strip club that made us buckets of money. Watching women strip for cash wasn’t my thing.

Fortunately, I had just enough alcohol-soaked brain cells left not to say all of that out loud. My mouth didn’t need to make things worse. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“That’s fair enough then,” she said, stepping closer. She lifted her hand and stopped just before she touched me. “May I?” I blinked, surprised at the request. It wasn’t often someone asked if they could touch me. My brain warned me to say no, but it wasn’t fast enough to stop me.

“Sure,” my mouth blurted.

A slight smile crossed her face a moment before her fingertips gently moved through my hair. My breath caught at her soft touch as she lifted and examined the strands. Not to mention the sweet scent of vanilla coming off her smooth skin.

“Yeah, I can definitely cut this for you. I’m not formally trained or anything, but I taught myself how to cut my own hair ages ago, and I’ve helped many of the other dancers out in a pinch. You don’t have to worry about me butchering it.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll get to the barber eventually.” My brain was still telling me to make her stop, but no other part of me was listening. It had been a long time since anyone had touched me other than to get me off. And even that had been too long.

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