Rule Breakers (Off Limits #2) - Nicky James Page 0,17
talk to you, you’re out on your ass. Got it?”
He held up his hands in surrender and nodded, finding his seat again, signaling the server to bring him another drink.
Yeah, great move, asshole. Get drunker.
The DJ went into his dramatic radio voice as he introduced our next dancer.
“Let’s give it up for the beautiful, the voluptuous, the goddess in red, Destiny.”
The crowd gave Destiny a warm welcome as she appeared from backstage, wearing scandalous lace in a fire engine red and heels so high I didn’t know how she walked in them. The red stood out gorgeously against her ebony skin. Her round face and high cheekbones were framed by luxurious waves of silky black hair that hung to her shoulders. Destiny was slim-waisted with defined hips, a curvy ass, and a generous bustline. A true crowd-pleaser in every way. Her moves on stage were mesmerizing. Hypnotic. There was always an unmistakable hush that descended over the audience when she performed. Not a single person in the small establishment was immune.
I scanned the periphery of the stage, ensuring all hands and bodies were on the right side of the line before stealing a few lingering looks myself. I had a world of respect for Destiny. Unlike some of the other girls, she was focused and goal oriented.
Destiny was a single mom who adamantly wanted nothing to do with any men when she was offstage. Not the bouncers. Not the customers. Not the bartenders. I’d thought more than once she was a lesbian, but when I’d asked her flat out one night after she’d finished a lap dance in one of the private rooms I was monitoring, she’d laughed until there were tears in her eyes, then she’d patted my cheek and called me cute.
She was still an enigma. This was a job for her and nothing more.
Her song continued to play. I shifted positions, walking the edge of the stage area until I was on the other side, next to the DJ booth. From this new vantage point, I could see the front entrance and the bar. Neil was working the door and front half of the room. Lewis was bouncing between the private rooms in back where lap dances took place, and Ricky had called in due to the bad weather, leaving us shorthanded. Bruce, Horatio, and Tank were off for the night. Tank, or Isabelle when she was off duty, was a six-foot-four woman we employed whose sheer size and imposing presence made me think of Brienne of Tarth from Game of Thrones. No one fucked with her.
Since I was in charge of the stage and the back half of the bar, I made regular scans of patrons and didn’t pay much attention to the people flooding in out of the cold—mainly because there weren’t all that many people crazy enough to be out in the storm tonight.
Destiny’s time on stage ended, and she vanished behind the curtain while the DJ went through his typical spiel. Since there was no one on stage at the moment, I wandered among tables, taking note of who was where and their general vibe. It was easy to pick out troublemakers if you paid attention. They got drunk, they got loud, and most of them were stupid enough to announce their intent to be assholes before they made their move.
When my eyes caught on two familiar people chatting with Neil at the front doors, my feet stalled and back stiffened. What the fuck were my brother and son doing here? Together? At a very straight-person-focused establishment?
Neil carded Edison and took a minute to study his driver’s license, ensuring he was of age. He nodded as he handed the little plastic card back, and Denver and Edison wandered into the main room, looking around like two aliens who’d landed on a planet that made no sense to them.
Many of the dancers mingled and helped serve drinks between their sets. They wore revealing outfits that left little to the imagination. They played to the crowd in hopes of earning lap dances which was where they made better money.
Edison’s gaze lingered on Ginger, a redheaded twenty-one-year-old dancer who was working a schoolgirl outfit tonight. Her plaid skirt barely covered her ass, showing off her thong if she so much as bent the slightest bit at the waist. Her hair was braided, she wore black-rimmed glasses, knee socks, and a blouse that ended above her pierced navel and was unbuttoned enough to show off plenty of