“No,” I say, shaking my head as I down the rest of my beer. There’s only one girl for me and she wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.
A strong urge to pull out my phone and scroll through Zoe’s Facebook photos starts to overtake me. I take a deep breath and fold my hands on the top of the table, leaving my phone burning against my leg.
“But I will take another beer,” I say, turning back to the empty stage.
The manager tells one of the waitresses as he returns to his spot against the wall.
“And now,” the announcer says over the speakers as the waitress hands me a beer, “please welcome the newest dancer to the Titty Committee. She just turned eighteen two weeks ago. Give it up for the young and barely legal, Zoe!”
My eyes dart up to the door that leads to the girls’ dressing rooms as my chest tightens like it’s stuck in a vise. I know that it can’t possibly be her, but I still look up in a panic.
The door swings open and I nearly have a heart attack when I see her strut out.
My Zoe.
Her eyes are wide and panicked as she wobbles out on ridiculously high heels, looking like a child in this grown-up place. My hands are shaking as I stare at her in shock.
She looks stunning in her schoolgirl outfit with the short skirt, low cut top, and socks that ride up her young slender legs. But I can’t focus on any of that.
Her presence here has hit me like a baseball bat to the temple. The sweet girl that I’ve spent years lusting for has a room full of guys lusting over her at this very moment.
A fierce rage rips through me as I look around and see them watching her with wide excited eyes. I squeeze the beer bottle in my hand, wanting to smash it on the table and blind each and every one of them.
They shouldn’t be looking at her. She’s mine alone to look at.
I explode out of my seat, staring at her as a fire hose of adrenaline surges through my veins. There’s a vicious pounding in my ears, drowning out the shitty Van Halen song playing as my whole body tightens.
She shuffles to the stage with her silky brown hair bouncing on her shoulders. Hair that I’ve dreamed about sinking my nose into as I slide inside of her, taking her sweet cherry. She bites her bottom lip as she walks up the steps. Those sweet luscious lips. How many times have I imagined them wrapped around my cock?
The perverted fucks around me erupt into cheers as she steps onto the stage.
What the fuck is happening?
That is my Zoe up there.
The same Zoe who cried in my arms when she got a dent in her father’s car. I took the blame for that one.
The same Zoe who bought me a pocket knife for my birthday. I still carry it everywhere I go.
And the same Zoe who still has her virginity. I stole her diary and read it. I couldn’t tell you how relieved I was when I found out that my sweet Zoe hadn’t been touched by a man yet.
That’s why this is all such a shock.
She struts onto the stage, looking younger than ever as the song picks up. She looks nervous and awkward as she walks to the pole, keeping her eyes on the stage, on the ceiling, on her feet, anywhere but on the excited men who are all staring at her like a pride of hungry lions.
With my heart racing, I rush through the crowd and leap onto the stage.
Zoe gasps and jerks her head back in shock as she sees me coming at her like the world is on fire. These men are looking at what’s mine, which means my world is definitely on fire.
“Jack,” she gasps as I yank off my shirt and wrap it around her exposed body. I don’t care what she wants to do, I don’t care who owns this place, I don’t care if I have to fight every bouncer, biker, bartender, and drunk fuck in here, but no one is laying their eyes on my girl’s body. Not while I’m alive.
The possessive feelings I already had for her are now surging out of control as I wrap my flexed arms around her, spoiling the view for everybody in here.
“Hey!” the huge bouncer yells as he rushes over. I pull Zoe behind me as he runs up the stairs, charging forward.
The intense look I give him makes him skid to a stop. “Are you her father or something?” he asks, looking me up and down.
He’s built like an NFL linebacker with over a hundred pounds on me, but he’s smart to stand back with the way I’m feeling right now.
I would take on the whole Dallas Cowboys to protect my girl.
The scrawny manager races up next and gets in my face. I’m about to knock him out, but Zoe places her delicate hand on my forearm, keeping me in check.
“You want to touch the girls?” he says, wiping his nose. “You pay for it.”
I step forward but Zoe squeezes her fingers around my arm. I take a deep breath as I try to hold myself together.
I have to remember that she’s up here with me and if things go down, she can get hurt. Her safety is my main concern, over everything else.
“Fine,” I grunt, reaching into my pocket. I pull out my wallet and stuff a wad of cash into the manager’s greasy hand. “She’s mine for the night. The entire night.”
His eyebrows raise as he flips through the money, nodding as a smile breaks out across his lips. “She’s all yours.” He turns to the huge bouncer who’s still staring at me with clenched fists and flared nostrils. “Cupcake, give them a VIP room.”
Cupcake sighs, then turns around with slumped shoulders, looking disappointed that he didn’t get to crack any skulls. He’s luckier than he thinks. His skull would have been the one that got cracked.
“Jack,” Zoe whispers beside me.
I shoot her a warning look that makes her shut those sweet luscious lips up real fast.
The men in the club all boo as I keep my shirt wrapped possessively around her body, and follow the bouncer off the stage, taking the sweet little girl with me.
The bouncer shows us to a private VIP room in the back and glares at me as I pull Zoe in and then close the door in his face.
There’s a leather couch along the wall with a stripper pole in the middle of the room. A champagne bottle is sitting in a bucket of ice next to two glasses on the glass coffee table.
Zoe looks up at me with soft red cheeks as I yank my shirt back on and roll up my sleeves. I’m staring down at her with my heart pounding.
There’s only one word that comes to mind:
“Explain.”
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