Page 20 of Bully

And I reacted—poorly.

We were at Prism, overseeing the new training of staff, when it happened. We weren’t even overseeing the same group, yet we ended up mixing. And if I had learned anything in the last week of working with Sloane daily, we were oil and water.

No, scratch that. We were petroleum and fire. One small spark away from igniting and burning the entire place to the ground.

Tell me why I was walking around with a match between my teeth, begging her to strike it?

Fuck all, who knew. But that was exactly what I was doing.

All day, every day, hard as a brick the entire time, I fucked with her for the fun of it.

And she would cut right back, throwing her own barbs and sass into the already smoldering fire, daring it to engulf us both.

I had put her in charge of the new girls I hired to pad the lineup of talent available to clients. Some were singers, some were actresses, some were dancers, but most of them were from the strip club we snuck into together the other night. They were… eager.

And willing to do just about anything to earn their place on Prism’s new lineup. Word was spreading fast about the changes being made to the establishment, and already the amount of membership applications was overtaking my inbox.

Changing the privacy of the club from public to member only was one of many steps I was taking to ensure a higher earning for the girls. And the new girls wanted that cash.

Maybe even more than those who worked at the Den before I bought it. And I was rewarding them for their enthusiasm by prioritizing their positions above those who still doubted and fought me at every turn.

Which is what caused last night’s blow up between Sloane and me. I couldn’t be sure, it wasn’t like she’d ever admit it to me, but Sloane gave off the vibes that she was jealous of the new girls.

And that sick part of my brain that always liked to ruin things preferred to think she was jealous of the attention I was giving to the new girls. Meaning, of course, I doubled down and made it worse.

Leading her to throw a glass at my head in the stage room, where she was teaching a class to all the girls on how to host a client with more than just their bodies.

With conversation.

I had volunteered to be the client of the night, and each girl roleplayed as if they were trying to convince me to buy their attention. And it had worked so fucking well. When Valentina slid onto my lap, breaking the script, and laying it on thick, I ate it up like catnip. Not because I was interested in Valentina’s assets at all, even as they were almost in my mouth thanks to her perch on my thigh, but because I could see the smoke rolling out of Sloane’s ears as she watched from afar.

She probably looked a hell of a lot like I had when I yanked her from the strip club the other night, after she let Mya rub her tattooed body all over hers for show. For my show. And my pleasure.

Fuck. To see those two together in my bed, whew.

Pretty sure I’d give my left nut to watch Sloane work a woman over sexually while I watched. I wouldn’t even need to join in, I didn’t even care to touch whoever she brought in with her. But I’d melt for the chance to watch Sloane fuck.

Given there was a real possibility, I’d never get to experience it myself. The girl was bad for my health.

Enjoying myself from afar might be my only option.

Because she sure as hell wasn’t letting me get anywhere near her at the moment, and not at all since she stormed out after training. I should be the mad one, given that she threw a glass at my head.

Yet all I was, was hard.

And celibate. In a brothel. Surrounded by dozens of women that would willingly sleep with me if I asked. I knew that because most had offered in multiple different ways.

Bloody hell, I needed to find a way to get my head on straight so I could work alongside Sloane without wanting to slam her against the nearest wall to fuck her out of my system.

I needed… peace.

There was only one person on the entire planet that gave me that.

And I knew exactly where she’d be tonight. But there was something else I needed to do first to level the playing field between me and Sloane. To remind her who the biggest asshole was.

Chapter 10 – Sloane

Iwassupposedtobeon my couch, elbow deep in pizza sauce and wine, unwinding from the hellish week Tamen Bryce had put me through. Instead, I was in heels, red couture, and jewels that once again didn’t belong to me, walking into a restaurant I’d never even dreamed of getting a table at before.

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