Page 9 of Daddy's Bad Girl
Julia shakes her head, tut-tutting.
“Girlfriend, that’s because you’re not here that often. You’re working maybe ten or twelve hours a week? I’m at the club full-time, and I’ve seen Logan Blackshaw before. Not non-stop, mind you, but he comes around once in a while. He’s hot,” she says with a wink. “And generous too, so act cute.”
My cheeks flush because “act cute” is a euphemism for “turn on the sex appeal.” But this is Club Z, and I know what Julia’s saying. She’s saying “go for it” in the gentlest way possible. But I want more than to “go for it” because this man makes me sizzle inside ... and I know Logan Blackshaw has something in store for me.
7
Logan
She’s cute, actually. Not just hot and beautiful, but charmingly cute with shocked blue eyes and slightly parted pink lips.
“Thanks for the drink,” I drawl as the gorgeous blonde sets a crystal number down on the table. “Care to join me?”
Emma knows the right answer and nods slightly, her eyes still wide.
“Certainly, sir,” she murmurs before setting down her silver platter. “But not too long because I’m on shift right now.”
We both know that’s a lie because her purpose as a hostess is to take care of clients. I am her focus in life for the next two hours, and management knows that. Besides, they’ve got a roster of girls to draw from if Emma gets busy. There are more than a few pretty young things that Club Z can summon with a quick phone call, should the occasion require it.
But we both let her comment slide as she settles in beside me in the booth. Up close, Emma is even more gorgeous than I believed. Her skin is clear and glowing with round cheeks and a plush, pink pout. Her lips are full, the cupid’s bow accentuated by only a small slick of lipstick, and immediately, I have visions of that pink color smeared all over my dick. I see her golden head bent down, her mouth parting to take my hardness down her throat and goddamn, but my cock jerks in my pants.
But first, I want to get to know the young woman. I’m not often “off” in my assessment of females, but it’s happened before, and who knows, maybe there’s been in a slip in Club Z hiring procedures. Maybe they’ve let a woman loose on the floor who’s a manipulative bitch behind an innocent exterior. Not that she would last long because I’ve dealt with my share of hags, and they always regret tangling with Logan Blackshaw.
But I keep things surface-level for the present.
“Let me introduce myself,” I say in a smooth tone. “I’m Logan Blackshaw. And you are?”
“Emma,” she murmurs with a glance down at her folded hands. “Emma Kincaid.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma,” I say politely. “Would you like to order a cocktail for yourself? It’s rude for me to be drinking on my own.” That’s bullshit because I don’t feel bizarre at all, but it’s a social nicety to offer a woman a little something when you’re imbibing, and I want Emma to be relaxed in my presence.
“Oh no, I’m okay,” she murmurs, cheeks flushing. “Actually, I’m not old enough to drink yet. Almost, but not quite.”
I stare hard. Fuck. I knew she was young, but obviously, I had no idea just how young.
“So you’re eighteen?” I ask, praying that she says yes. Goddamn, if those fuckers in management have started hiring underage girls, I’m going to have to have a word because this particular fact matters to me. I don’t care if they have ho-bags working as servers but if those servers are illegal ... fuck! To their credit, Minnesota’s age of consent is sixteen, but the law is tangled and bizarre, and the club generally sticks to eighteen to be safe. Fortunately, a sweet smile wreathes Emma’s features as she turns to me.
“I’m twenty,” she murmurs. “A junior in college.”
I nod, quickly calculating my options. Twenty is good. Twenty is definitely legal. Twenty is young still, but she’s a woman ... which opens a veritable host of possibilities. My dick jerks under the table again, getting harder by the minute. Fuck!
“So tell me, where are you studying?” I ask casually, as if this is the most normal conversation in the world. “I never finished college myself, so I’m always impressed by someone who goes the distance.”
Emma smiles sweetly.
“I’m at Evergreen across town, and I’m pre-med,” she says, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s difficult, but I enjoy it.”
My brows go up.
“Kudos, sweetheart, because I’ve heard pre-med is a tough major. Or is that even a major?” I ask.
Emma shakes her head, her delicate features serious.
“It’s not. I have classmates majoring in French, Creative Writing, and Rhetoric, while taking a full load of pre-med courses. But it’s definitely easier if you concentrate in something related to science, like Biology or Chemistry. There’ll be a natural overlap among the classwork required, so the schoolwork is streamlined.”
I think for a minute.
“Yeah, that makes sense,” I drawl. Then, I turn my blue gaze to her. “So are you a Biology major? Or something totally unrelated to science?”
