Page 7 of Surrender
These girls weren’t just dancers or whores, they were walking, talking luxury items. Each with her own look, brand, and signature designed to capture the attention of every kind of man who came through this place.
The problem was that when you packed a club full of women who all wore distinct perfumes like Estelle demanded, it didn’t exactly create some high-class, aromatic fantasy.
It just became a fucking nightmare to breathe.
“Maybe someone needs to talk to Estelle about reconsidering her ‘high-class hooker’ vibe she’s going for,” Hawk suggested, though neither of us could stop smiling at the ridiculous notion of telling Estelle Vesey what to fucking do.
The woman was hard.
Protective of her girls, but hard.
This was her business, and she ran it like a CEO.
You couldn’t help but respect her for it, and trust that she knew what the hell she was doing, even if it did feel like what she was doing was trying to suffocate us.
Hawk nudged me in the side suddenly, and I glanced across to the main stage where Vesey’s headliner, Roxie, had just finished her set.
My VP chuckled as she slinked down off the side of the stage and locked eyes with me like a predator tracking its next meal. Her lips curled into a smirk, and she moved with an easy confidence across the room toward us, weaving through thecrowd of men whose eyes seemed permanently glued to her bare ass. She knew it too. Each swing of her hips probably earned her an extra fifty dollars when she got back on stage later.
“And here comes it comes,” Hawk jested, folding his arms across his chest. “What line do you think she’s gonna use tonight?”
Roxie liked to make it her mission to torment the boys who were on security detail—me especially. “She’s gonna come in hot with something like,I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Hawk shook his head. “Nah. I’m thinking,if you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, parental guidance.”
“Blue,” Roxie purred as she got closer, reaching for my bottle of water that sat on the bar beside me, and twisting the cap off. “That a hard cock in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”
I reached out, grabbing the bottle before she could lift it to her lips, and shook my head. “That’s not how it goes, Rox.”
“No kidding,” Hawk agreed, though he couldn’t contain the pure amusement on his face. He knew I hated this shit, and he fucking loved watching it. “Blue’sneverhappy to see you.”
Roxie pushed her bottom lip out, pouting up at me and ignoring Hawk’s smart mouth. “You know, I think you’re just scared that if you let me get close, I’m gonna get under that thick skin of yours.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, like a damn parasite.”
She gasped, pressing her hand to her chest like I’d wounded her massive ego. I didn’t feel bad, though, because all it would take was security catching some guy sneaking backstage to steal one of her shoes for her head to once again inflate to the size of the building.
“Wow, Blue,” she said with an exaggerated sigh, tilting her head like I’d just kicked her damn puppy. “That’s a little harsh,don’t you think?”
I shrugged, covering my mouth as I yawned. “The fact that you’re still standing here tells me not harsh enough, actually.”
Roxie pursed her lips, considering me for a brief moment. Then, just like that, the feigned offense melted away, replaced by a knowing smirk. She reached out and tugged at my cut, her eyes sweeping over me from head to toe before finally returning to my face. “Oh, how I do love these chats of ours,” she teased with a wink as she backed away. “Though I’m still positive that one day you’re going to regret all the times you turned me down.One day!”
Shaking my head, I let out a chuckle. “Uh-huh. I’ll see you next week, Rox.”
She flashed a pageant-winning smile before skipping past us, toward the girls’ dressing rooms. For a long time, I couldn’t tell if she simply got a kick out of trying to bait me, or if she was actually looking to get my cut on her shoulders so she could get out of here.
But then I realized something.
Roxie knew how to get what she wanted.
If she wanted some poor bastard to save her, she’d have been rescued a long time ago. She got her kicks out of making a man feel like they were the only one in the room, even when there were a hundred others ready to hand her their wallets, their time, or their souls if she asked.
“I dunno about you,” Hawk said, leaning back against the wall. “But if she ran for president, I’d vote for her. She’d get shit done.”
“And she’d get it done without ever having to lift a finger,” I added, honestly respecting how she’d perfected what they calledthe art of persuasion.
