Page 62 of Bourbon Kingdom
“I wasn’t going to cry,” Kace replied, offended.
“Oh, please, I saw the tears in your eyes.”
“Fuck you,” he laughed. “God, you’re a dick.”
Laughing, I nodded, as I looked out the window. This was my city, the place I was born and raised, the place where I grew into a man, the place I met the love of my life, and now that I’d settled my business affairs, it was time I settled my personal ones, because to hell if I was going to let go of the best thing that ever happened to me.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Uptown Funk”
GOLDIE
“No, you’re getting it all wrong. You have to bend first, stick your ass out, and then snap up,” I instructed both Diego and Blane, who were standing in front of me with giddy looks on their faces.
“I don’t get it,” Diego said. “Can you show us one more time?”
“It’s not like you’re making a penis out of a can of worm meat and dental floss,” I said, while getting in position.
“Worm meat? Is that even something?” Blane asked, his voice thick with his Australian accent.
“Possibly,” I giggled. “Would you eat it?”
“What would I get if I ate it?” Blane asked, eyeing me up and down.
“What do you want?” I said, losing my balance; damn alcohol was going to my head.
“I think you know what I want,” Blane replied, while licking his lips.
Oh, fuck, did I know. The man had been relentless ever since he found out Jett and I were no longer together. He made his feelings for me quite clear and wasn’t shy about them. He said when he knew I was still attached to someone, he respected my space, but apparently to him, I was fair game now.
Diego had been more than accommodating when it came to helping us both out. I went back to assisting Diego at his club, like I had before I left to try to save my relationship with Jett, what little help that was. The rooms were almost fully painted and my work was really coming together nicely with the overall theme. Diego was pleased, and that was all that mattered to me.
I’d kept to myself most of the time, because frankly, I didn’t want the boys to see me cry over a guy who I wasn’t sure ever really, truly cared about me. It was embarrassing. But Diego only let my personal exile last a couple of days; he didn’t feel that wallowing in self-pity was a productive way to conduct my days, so that’s why I currently found myself almost twisted off my ass, teaching Blane and Diego how to pole dance.
“Back off, Blane,” Diego said, while pushing him away. “If Goldie is going to bone anyone here, it’s going to be me. We have history.” Diego winked at me.
“There is no way she would fuck you,” Blane laughed. “Not with that prissy dancing you do around stage.”
“Prissy?” Diego asked while standing tall.
Prissy was the last word I would use to describe Diego. For Cirque du Diable, Diego was the ringmaster, the man who sat center stage, directing all the acts that were conducted. He was the grand MC, with a body that would make your vagina weep, eyes that would have you orgasming on the spot, and a kind of control that would have you dropping to your knees, asking him what he wanted.
Blane gestured toward Diego and said, “Yeah, you’re prissy.”
“Watch it, bro, your livelihood is hanging by a thread right now, and I can fucking snip it so fast,” Diego said with a grin.
Nodding, Blane said, “Aw, I see. So you’re going to hold the fact that you gave me a job, a fucking awesome job, by the way, and a place to stay over my head?”
“Pretty much,” Diego laughed.
“As long as I know up front,” Blane laughed as well. “Still, doesn’t mean you get to fuck Goldie. She’s up for grabs. That’s how I see it.”
“There is a ‘no fraternizing with other employees’ policy here,” Diego stated, while crossing his arms.
“So, wouldn’t that mean you’re shit out of luck as well?”
Diego smiled. “I’m exempt.”
