Home > Star Crossed (Stargazer #1)(45)

Star Crossed (Stargazer #1)(45)
Author: Jennifer Echols

Wendy bit her lip. Her stomach turned flips at the thought of venturing into a dark strip club again—this time through the front door.

“Wendy,” Daniel said gently. “Seriously, is this going to bother you? I didn’t intend to make you feel uncomfortable. Surely to God I can figure out something else, or we can start over tomorrow—”

“Tomorrow is too late,” she said. “You know what? I need to get over my strip club stigma. That way I can finally go see my next-door neighbor’s act.”

“She’s a stripper?”

“His boyfriend is a stripper. He himself is more of a burlesque performer.” She glanced back at the poker table where Lorelei and company sat losing their money and looking glum. Her star crashing a strip club might not be better press, per se, than her star losing two hundred dollars at poker, but it would be more exciting. “Yes, we’ll be there in a few. Ask Colton to commence the polite but provocative tweets.”

The strip club, long and low, lingered on the outskirts of the Strip, not so close that the casinos could chase it off, but not so far away that the tourists wouldn’t be tempted. The lighted walkway from the parking lot to the building was lined with paparazzi. Wendy’s heart leaped. Daniel’s plan was working. When the two taxis full of Lorelei’s party pulled up, Daniel himself was leaning against a column at the front entrance with his arms crossed. He walked forward and opened the taxi door for Wendy.

Beside her on the seat, Lorelei said wistfully, “Such a gentleman. The best Colton can do is not slam the door in my face.”

Wendy was more concerned about whether Daniel was, in fact, a horny gentleman. He’d dressed down for once, though he still looked like he’d stepped out of a men’s magazine in a tight designer T-shirt, dark jeans, and expensive shoes. He didn’t seem drunk—he moved smoothly as ever—but his steps and gestures weren’t as big, as if he were purposefully holding himself close to counteract the alcohol. In short, he wasn’t three sheets, but he was probably as loose as Wendy would ever see him.

And as much as she ached to run her hands across his perfectly defined chest, she didn’t want to seduce him. No, she didn’t. She would get in trouble at work, and he would dump her anyway, and it wasn’t worth the heartache. But thanks to their charade, she could act like she wanted to seduce him. The night promised to be fun.

She stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He nuzzled her ear and gently bit her earlobe.

She sucked in a breath, and her eyes darted around the paparazzi as if she’d done something deliciously guilty. But they were focused on Lorelei as she stepped out of the cab, long legs first. She stopped and talked to the photographers, even hugging one she hadn’t seen in a while. Wendy shook her head. This was the reality of Lorelei. At least there would be gorgeous photos of her online tomorrow, giving the cameras her genuine grin.

Daniel held Wendy’s hand, saluted the bouncer, and led her through the doors into the dark club, music throbbing. One woman shimmied onstage, and strippers boogied around poles throughout the room. About half the patrons were women, Wendy noted with relief. That’s what Sarah had told her about the strip clubs she’d crashed sometimes with their friends in college. Wendy had always opted out. In the club where she’d worked for a week, only men had leered at her.

Daniel squeezed her hand. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. He watched her as if he expected her to elaborate, but she didn’t particularly want to talk. She wanted him to talk to her again. Every time he put his voice and his breath in her ear, all her blood rushed downward.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“A lot better,” she answered truthfully.

“I guess you don’t want a drink,” he said doubtfully.

She shook her head. She could have used one, but there was way too much over-the-counter painkiller in her bloodstream for a drink to be safe.

“I’m drinking a soda now myself,” he said. “I had to cut myself off.”

She laughed. “You don’t seem drunk, but you seem very careful.”

Oh, he treated her to that rare, open laugh she loved so much. “You’re right. It really has been fun tonight. Colton and his posse have become my best buds, which tells you a lot about how drunk we all are. Thank you.” He kissed her on the lips.

She hadn’t been expecting the kiss. It was so fast that her heart opened to it after it was over.

Daniel had sat down in a huge booth scattered with shot glasses and entire bottles of liquor. He scooted over to give her room, pulling her by the hand. Obediently she sat beside him. He let go of her hand and sandwiched his fingers between her crossed thighs. It was a signal of possession that was not allowed in polite settings and was barely socially acceptable even in a strip club. Wendy felt like the presence of his hand was a hot rock sinking and melting through the ice of her body. They were fully clothed. They were not really together. And she had never been so turned on.

“Where is everybody?” she asked, looking around. Except for them, the booth was empty.

Daniel nodded toward the nearest pole, where a stripper talked with Colton. They didn’t look like they were in intimate conversation. They looked like she was giving him instructions. Colton reached up, braced his hands wide apart on the pole, and pulled himself close to it. He was able to hold his body up for several seconds before collapsing to the floor. Lorelei and her friends clapped for him as they approached the table. Colton stood and bowed to them, grinning goofily.

“This has been going on for a while,” Daniel said, nodding to Colton’s driver and bodyguard, who stood to one side of the pole as if they’d already taken their turns. “It started out with everybody displaying their big guns.”

He slid his fingers out from between her thighs, making her shiver. He pulled back his T-shirt sleeve to show her his thick bicep. “Go ahead. You can touch it.”

Seeing him like this was hilarious. She humored him by trying and failing to wrap her hand around his upper arm. “Wow,” she said dreamily.

Grinning, he put his arm down. “Then the lady here”—he gestured to the stripper, who was now laughing with both Colton and Lorelei—“came over and told us that pole dancing is the true test of upper body strength. And here we are.”

“Did you take a turn on the pole?” Wendy asked in disbelief.

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