Palace in Storm’s Jeep
just as the sun is dropping over the horizon. Storm doesn’t even
have the thing in park before I jump out. When she walks around to
meet me on my side, it’s with a look I’m long since used to—a
mixture of surprise and concern. She doesn’t comment though.
She does comment on me tugging at the short
black skirt I borrowed from her. “Stop fidgeting.” She swats my
hand away. “I never would have taken you for the nervous type.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re ass isn’t
hanging out. I can’t believe I agreed to wear this Band-Aid. I’m
going to bend over and show everyone my girl bits.”
Storm laughs. “Of course you should wear that
Band-Aid. It shows those awesome legs of yours off.”
“It’s showing more than my legs,” I mutter,
giving it another tug to cover the bottom of my tattoo. I’m not
ashamed of that. I just don’t want to draw more attention to myself
than necessary.
“Good Lord! For such a tough act, you really
are a big sissy girl, aren’t you?”
She’s right. I guess I’m just out of my
element here and it’s causing me to second-guess everything. If
this were the gym, I’d have no problem in tiny shorts that hug my
ass. But this isn’t the gym and I’m not allowed to kick the crap
out of anything here.
I cock my head to the side as I take in
Storm. “Did you just call me a sissy girl?”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Did you just say
‘girl bits’? This is an adult club, not a day care.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” I chuckle as we
approach the solid black metal door with a tiny peep hole in
it.
“You look great, Kacey. Seriously.” I try not
to flinch as she pats my shoulder.
Secretly, I have to admit that I do. Aside
from the mini skirt, I’m also wearing a charcoal striped halter top
and several silver jewelry pieces, courtesy of Storm’s collection.
She also helped me with my hair and make-up. I look more than
decent. Not a knock out standing next to Storm with her turquoise
dress and tanned skin and Barbie doll curves, but decent all the
same. Decent enough that I caught myself swaggering extra slow past
1D on my way out, hoping to catch Trent’s face in the window. Then
I realized what I was doing, and I ran the rest of the way to
Storm’s Jeep, the voice inside my head scolding the snot out of me
the entire way.
Storm raps against the heavy door four times.
It flies open and my insides flip. Not many people intimidate me
anymore. The giant man with dark skin and bulging muscles who fills
the doorway, as wide as he is tall, though … I don’t care that I’m
cowering. By the look of him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s never
smiled a day in his life. He’s certainly never been a cute baby.
I’m sure he simply materialized out of nothingness into the beast
standing before me.
“This is Nate. He’s the head bouncer and
Cain’s right hand man. Hey Nate! This is my friend, Kacey.” Storm
doesn’t wait for him to respond. She simply pushes past him, her
hand giving his solid abdomen a soft punch on the way in.
“Hi,” he says. The tiny word rumbles deep
inside me, his voice like thunder and I nod, temporarily mute.
He steps back to give me more space. “Come
in, please.”
Forcing bravado that I don’t feel, I jack my
chin up and step inside. Storm leads me down a narrow hallway lined
with liquor cases and silver kegs, smelling faintly of beer yeast.
Dark memories rise with the scent. Memories of clubs and tequila
shots off guys’ abdomens and white powder lines on tables in dark
corners. I quickly cram them back where they belong. In the
past.
“Here are the dressing rooms for the dancers
…” Storm’s index finger points to two closed doors. “I wouldn’t go
in there unless you want to see all kinds of ‘girl bits.’” With a
teasing laugh, she continues.
We pass by a broad-shouldered, towering blond
guy in a tight black t-shirt and black pants. Definitely another
bouncer by his outfit
just as the sun is dropping over the horizon. Storm doesn’t even
have the thing in park before I jump out. When she walks around to
meet me on my side, it’s with a look I’m long since used to—a
mixture of surprise and concern. She doesn’t comment though.
She does comment on me tugging at the short
black skirt I borrowed from her. “Stop fidgeting.” She swats my
hand away. “I never would have taken you for the nervous type.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re ass isn’t
hanging out. I can’t believe I agreed to wear this Band-Aid. I’m
going to bend over and show everyone my girl bits.”
Storm laughs. “Of course you should wear that
Band-Aid. It shows those awesome legs of yours off.”
“It’s showing more than my legs,” I mutter,
giving it another tug to cover the bottom of my tattoo. I’m not
ashamed of that. I just don’t want to draw more attention to myself
than necessary.
“Good Lord! For such a tough act, you really
are a big sissy girl, aren’t you?”
She’s right. I guess I’m just out of my
element here and it’s causing me to second-guess everything. If
this were the gym, I’d have no problem in tiny shorts that hug my
ass. But this isn’t the gym and I’m not allowed to kick the crap
out of anything here.
I cock my head to the side as I take in
Storm. “Did you just call me a sissy girl?”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Did you just say
‘girl bits’? This is an adult club, not a day care.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” I chuckle as we
approach the solid black metal door with a tiny peep hole in
it.
“You look great, Kacey. Seriously.” I try not
to flinch as she pats my shoulder.
Secretly, I have to admit that I do. Aside
from the mini skirt, I’m also wearing a charcoal striped halter top
and several silver jewelry pieces, courtesy of Storm’s collection.
She also helped me with my hair and make-up. I look more than
decent. Not a knock out standing next to Storm with her turquoise
dress and tanned skin and Barbie doll curves, but decent all the
same. Decent enough that I caught myself swaggering extra slow past
1D on my way out, hoping to catch Trent’s face in the window. Then
I realized what I was doing, and I ran the rest of the way to
Storm’s Jeep, the voice inside my head scolding the snot out of me
the entire way.
Storm raps against the heavy door four times.
It flies open and my insides flip. Not many people intimidate me
anymore. The giant man with dark skin and bulging muscles who fills
the doorway, as wide as he is tall, though … I don’t care that I’m
cowering. By the look of him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s never
smiled a day in his life. He’s certainly never been a cute baby.
I’m sure he simply materialized out of nothingness into the beast
standing before me.
“This is Nate. He’s the head bouncer and
Cain’s right hand man. Hey Nate! This is my friend, Kacey.” Storm
doesn’t wait for him to respond. She simply pushes past him, her
hand giving his solid abdomen a soft punch on the way in.
“Hi,” he says. The tiny word rumbles deep
inside me, his voice like thunder and I nod, temporarily mute.
He steps back to give me more space. “Come
in, please.”
Forcing bravado that I don’t feel, I jack my
chin up and step inside. Storm leads me down a narrow hallway lined
with liquor cases and silver kegs, smelling faintly of beer yeast.
Dark memories rise with the scent. Memories of clubs and tequila
shots off guys’ abdomens and white powder lines on tables in dark
corners. I quickly cram them back where they belong. In the
past.
“Here are the dressing rooms for the dancers
…” Storm’s index finger points to two closed doors. “I wouldn’t go
in there unless you want to see all kinds of ‘girl bits.’” With a
teasing laugh, she continues.
We pass by a broad-shouldered, towering blond
guy in a tight black t-shirt and black pants. Definitely another
bouncer by his outfit
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