Page 15 of Torrid Love
She looks confused.
“You’re at the wrong event, lady,” my brother says, “There aren’t any strip clubs in this neighborhood. Put your clothes back on.”
“Who the hell are you?” Clemensia barks.
“I’ll tell you who—”
“Hey, lady! You over there, what the hell are you doing?” A large man shouts. He’s running towards us, wagging his index finger furiously. The two bodyguards who were manning the door follow him closely. “This isn’tthatkind of club.”
“But—”
“No buts. Chris. Paul. Escort this skank out of here,” the large man orders.
One of the guys picks up her discarded dress and throws it at her.
“Hey! Watch it!” Clemensia protests.
“You’re pathetic,” the large man tells her.
“Get your hands off me!” she shouts when the guy I know now as Chris pulls her hands behind her back.
“Come on, let’s go,” Chris says without giving her time to cover up.
“The show is over, folks,” the large man says. “DJ, please resume the music.”
Watching Clemensia’s walk of shame with those silver hoop rings clinking between her legs is a sad, sad sight. When she’s no longer in view, I shift my attention to where Dom was standing.
Where the hell did she go?
Goddammit.
CHAPTER 4
Dominika
Roderick Wolfe always commands attention when he walks into a room. Even before he hit superstardom, his mere presence would force everyone to stop and stare. It’s his smooth, confident swagger. When he was younger, every step he took, screamed, ‘Don’t fuck with me or else’. Now, it says, ‘I own the place’. And he does.
I knew my dramatic change would get a reaction out of him, but from the sinful sparkle in his eyes, I wasn’t prepared for this delicious warm tide rippling all over my body.
Damn.
When his eyes meet mine, I gasp under my breath. I smile, blushing when he turns on his trademark bad boy potent charm. It’s usually directed at someone else, but when he turns it towards me, it always makes me weak in the knees. Rod has this undeniable breathtaking effect on women. And as much as I’ve lied to myself for years, I’m not immune to it.
Between his former career as a rock star, his devastatingly good looks, intense deep brown eyes, large frame, bulging muscles and inked torso and arms, Rod is every woman’s dream. He’s so gut-wrenchingly sexy, most other men don’t measure up. Yeah, my best friend is so hot, it hurts. And he knows it too.
I swear, when God was allotting good looks and magnetic personalities, he spent a solid month on Roderick Wolfe.
Rod never hesitates to use that unfair advantage to disarm—I mean charm—women. Like he is now with the woman who’s making a spectacle out of herself.
“Holy fuck, did you see that?” Holly asks.
“How dare she steal the limelight atmybirthday party,” Zoe complains.
“Same old, same old,” I say with a detached voice.God, I’m a good actress.“You’d be surprised how quickly some women will degrade themselves just to boast they’ve fucked Rod Wolfe. It was worse at the height of his career. It’s sad. Pathetic even. But for some women, it’s a milestone to hit.” I’ve witnessed this kind of scenario too many times to count. “Judging by how desperate this one is, she’ll get her way.” I wouldn’t be surprised if Rod ended up fucking her in a random bathroom in this club or taking the action to a hotel.
“Given his godlike status,” Holly says, “it’s no surprise she’d want to stake her claim on him, but does she have to be such a whore about it?”
“But it’s my birthday,” Zoe wails.
