Page 93 of Shamed
Her smile falters the slightest bit, but she doesn’t let my rejection bother her. These women are skilled at seduction and usually have multiple layers on top to protect their feelings.
The redhead rises from her perch, pushing out her lower lip in faux sadness. “That’s too bad. If you change your mind, be sure to come find me.”
With a swing of her hips, she sashays off into the crowd, leaving me alone once more.
My gaze flits over the crowd again, bouncing from person to person, looking for the one I want.
Finally, Jayne drifts into view, surprise, delight, and nervousness flickering across her gorgeous face as she approaches. “Mase?” she questions, as if her eyes might be tricking her.
I make the mistake of letting my gaze drop, just for a second, but it’s a second too long. A lacy, black babydoll clings to her body, with long gloves that match. And the same crown as last time sits perfectly on her head.
While they’re all attractive here, none of the other women can compete with her lush curves and flawless skin. Whether she has her natural blonde hair or not, makeup or not, smiling or not, she stands out.
She looks like a fucking queen.
Tempting is what she is.
I clear my throat. “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?”
With a casual shrug, I stretch out my legs, the picture of calm. “I was just in the area. Thought I’d check it out.”
Through the beat of the song and the chatter of the crowd, I hear her laugh. “Liar.” After looking over her shoulder, she moves a little closer and softly brushes her fingers over my arm. “It’s busy tonight, so my boss, Chester, would be pissed if he caught me standing and chatting. I can act for a minute like I’m trying to convince you that you want a dance.”
“Okay.”
While she pretends to lure me in, I have to pretend that her touch doesn’t send goosebumps trailing up my arm, that it doesn’t have my body reacting in all the wrong ways, urging me to do all the wrong things.
Distraction. I need to keep talking.
“Does Chester get angry with you often?”
Jayne leans closer, one hand gripping the armrest, her head tipped to the side in a playful way. Anyone looking wouldthink she’s flirting with me. “He’s a dick most days, but him actually getting angry isn’t often. He just doesn’t like us wasting time that we could be earning him money or gaining another regular client.”
Running my fingers through my hair, I keep my eyes locked on her face, a slight smirk tipping the corner of my lips, like I’m contemplating her non-existent offer. “Chester seems like a real treat. He left me sitting close to an hour the last time I came in to talk with him.”
Jayne pauses her movements. “You wanted to talk to him?”
“Yeah. Usually, at places like this, I like to speak with the owner or manager about sending their girls for a self-defense class, instead of me offering it to them directly. It’s usually better received and appears more legit.”
She seems to mull that over, then shakes her head, lowering to the same spot the redhead was moments ago. “He sent girls to dance for you instead.”
“What?”
“He said any girl who could get you to crack and accept a lap dance would be granted a request.”
“Are you serious?”
What a fucking piece of work.
Here I was, trying to better these women’s lives in some small way; meanwhile, he had them doing his bidding for his own entertainment.
Molars pressed together, I shake my head while looking around the club, wondering what else that fucker makes these women do.
“What would your request have been?” I ask, eyes returning to her smokey gray ones.
Her smile is rueful. “I would have opted out of the private room that night.”
