grunt as her tongue darts out and she licks her lips. She’s teasing me with her ass, her dancing, the look in her blue eyes. It’s been three weeks of the best kind of torture. Every night at the same time, sitting in this dirty fucking club I really shouldn’t even be in. She dances and I watch. She just hasn’t realized I’m not only watching her. She’s a bonus I never expected the first night I walked into the strip club for recon.
I didn’t know when it happened, when coming here became as much about her as it was for the job, my goal—the end game. But there’s something about her. Familiar but strange. Dangerous and sweet. I just can’t put my finger on it. But I’m getting closer to the prize every day.
Giuseppe Marino.
I can’t let a girl get in the way now. Not now I’ve finally pushed Mason into pursuing the Marino crime family on a more serious level. We might actually have a chance at bringing them down soon.
Warmth rubs against my arm, but I’m too caught up in the beauty on stage with her big pink lips I’ve been imagining around my dick and her long hair I want to twist in my hand while I bend her over and fuck her from behind. It isn’t until a husky female voice whispers in my ear that I turn to see one of the topless waitresses with her obvious fake tits against my arm. “Want another round, sugar?”
I pull away from her and shift in my seat. Without another glance in her direction, I reply, “No thanks.”
If it were any other day or time when I wasn’t so distracted, I would have taken her up on the drink and chugged it down while she sucked me off on her break.
But right now, I don’t need another drink and the little brunette’s set must be just about finished. I don’t plan to stick around. Last night was supposed to be the last visit to this dump. Tonight I was here for one reason, and it wasn’t because Mason wanted background on the younger Marino moron.
Seductive music echoes through the club, drowning out the men shouting sleazy comments to the dancer on stage that I’d rather not hear. My fingers tighten around my glass as I hold in the urge to shove my fist into every one of the dirty fucks’ faces. The stage fades to black along with the end of the song and the woman makes her way off stage. I stand from my seat and swallow the last of my drink because tonight I’m done. I’m all out patience and horny as fuck. I’m ready for her. I’m done playing games. Tonight she’ll be mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
The coolness of winter in the city whisks across the back of my neck. I pull my jacket up as I lean against the brick wall a few feet up from the club. Voices travel from the entry of Sweet Tarts and I turn to see two men stumble out with one of the dancers on their arms. I check my watch again, wondering where she is. The girl’s like clockwork, I’ve watched her. The moment she finishes work she’s out of the place quicker than I can sling back another drink. It’s not lost on me how borderline stalking that sounds. But this is recon—work. She’s employed by the Marino’s. It counts.
“Thanks, Kev,” murmurs a soft voice and my head shoots up to see one of the bouncers smiling at a girl leaving the club. My chest expands with excitement when I recognize her long bare legs. She walks my way, but the small smile that’s been on her face drops and sadness creeps over her.
I push off the wall and stand up straighter while taking her in from heels up. Her ass is barely covered by the black coat hiding everything I’ve already seen underneath. Her hair falls around her waist, and when my eyes rise over the swell of her tits I see her arching an eyebrow at me.
Crossing her arms across her chest, she stops in front of me and pops her hip out. “Can I help you?”
I smirk as a million dirty thoughts about just how she can help me run through my mind. “I’m hoping so.”
Without giving her time to answer I move forward, so close to her I hear the gasp that leaves her lips and too close