Read Online Too Wild To Ride (Steel Veins MC Romance, #1) by Adair Rymer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Adair Rymer
Tags: Romance
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asked.
“Yes,” I lied. “I got this.” I didn't have this. I was so fucking nervous. I could handle being a stripper, up until we actually pulled in and it became real. How the hell was I actually going to do this?
“You'll do fine.” He saw right through my false bravado. “I'll be in there with you.”
He's right. The time for backing out was done. The only way I was getting out of this now was to make a break for it and run away. Granted, running away right now was more and more appealing but I knew I would never be able to live with myself. Remy needed me.
The dull thumping bass I heard outside threatened to blow out my ears once Remy opened the door. It was amazing how loud it was. How did the dancers talk to their— their what? Customers? Jesus, I didn't even know any of the terminology. I was a broke college girl, how have I not looked up this stuff online before? I guess I was too busy browsing Tumblr to look up the ins and outs of stripping in the off chance that I'd need it while fleeing a murderous gang of bikers. I was just really fucking nervous, was all.
We walked through the first door into an ID check hallway. We were met with the wafting aroma of stale cigarette smoke, spilled drinks, old sweat. It was the scent of despair and I could feel it seeping into my pores. A fat, Hispanic man in a black “Staff” shirt was sitting on a high stool and was giggling over something on his phone.
“Heheh fucking Jimmy Kimmel, man! Heh. Oh, man... Fucking kills me.” He looked up at us, wiped his eyes and popped out his one earbud. He was all smiles. “IDs guys?”
Oh shit! I shot Remy a worried look. He didn't acknowledge it, probably in an attempt to avoid suspicion.. I didn't have an ID. I had no idea where it was. At the gas station? If it was there it's gone now. Maybe my room at aunty and uncle's house?
“My girlfriend wants to dance.” Remy took my hand, raised it and turned me about by it so that the bouncer could look me over. “Who do we talk to about that?”
“Damn, man. You lucky.” The bouncer jovially slapped Remy on the shoulder then leaned in the club and flagged down one of the girls. “Cocoa! Tell Ginger we got a new girl. She looks aight.”
“You tell her yo self. You fat ass, mothafucka! I'm. Busy.” Cocoa flipped him the bird and walked away to go sit on some customer's lap. Her whole demeanor shifted to that of silk and honey as she talked and laughed with the man.
“Fucking cunt. Aight, come on. I'll take ya to the house mom. Ya gotta watch out for selfish bitches like her. They'll— Oh hold up, gotta search ya. You aint her pimp, right?” The bouncer patted Remy down.
“I look like a fucking pimp?” Remy's voice was razor sharp.
“Sorry, man. They make me ask.” The bouncer threw his hands up then turned his attention to me. I swallowed hard, if he looked in my bag he'd definitely spot the gun. “You nervous, huh? This your first dancing job?”
I managed a weak smile and nodded.
“Is' cool, relax. You'll do aight. A girl like you's gonna make a killing in here.” The bouncer smiled and motioned for me to walk in. He didn't even look at my bag. I exhaled. Everything about this made my skin crawl. What was I doing here?
Remy squeezed my hand lightly. Right away my nerves calmed a bit. I wasn't alone, he'd take care of me. I just had to trust him. I could do that. He placed a hand on my lower back and we followed the man in the black shirt.
An artificial freshener blanketed the air. It didn't replace the smells, it just created this noxious, sickly sweet cocktail that almost made me gag. The club's two circular stages were connected in the middle by a thick catwalk and surrounded by plush, shoulder-high, semi-circular chairs and round wooden tables. The walls were lined with dimly lit booths for the lap dances.
The bouncer took us to the DJ. He was a thin man with a button up shirt, rolled at the sleeves with a loose tie. He looked really young but
“Yes,” I lied. “I got this.” I didn't have this. I was so fucking nervous. I could handle being a stripper, up until we actually pulled in and it became real. How the hell was I actually going to do this?
“You'll do fine.” He saw right through my false bravado. “I'll be in there with you.”
He's right. The time for backing out was done. The only way I was getting out of this now was to make a break for it and run away. Granted, running away right now was more and more appealing but I knew I would never be able to live with myself. Remy needed me.
The dull thumping bass I heard outside threatened to blow out my ears once Remy opened the door. It was amazing how loud it was. How did the dancers talk to their— their what? Customers? Jesus, I didn't even know any of the terminology. I was a broke college girl, how have I not looked up this stuff online before? I guess I was too busy browsing Tumblr to look up the ins and outs of stripping in the off chance that I'd need it while fleeing a murderous gang of bikers. I was just really fucking nervous, was all.
We walked through the first door into an ID check hallway. We were met with the wafting aroma of stale cigarette smoke, spilled drinks, old sweat. It was the scent of despair and I could feel it seeping into my pores. A fat, Hispanic man in a black “Staff” shirt was sitting on a high stool and was giggling over something on his phone.
“Heheh fucking Jimmy Kimmel, man! Heh. Oh, man... Fucking kills me.” He looked up at us, wiped his eyes and popped out his one earbud. He was all smiles. “IDs guys?”
Oh shit! I shot Remy a worried look. He didn't acknowledge it, probably in an attempt to avoid suspicion.. I didn't have an ID. I had no idea where it was. At the gas station? If it was there it's gone now. Maybe my room at aunty and uncle's house?
“My girlfriend wants to dance.” Remy took my hand, raised it and turned me about by it so that the bouncer could look me over. “Who do we talk to about that?”
“Damn, man. You lucky.” The bouncer jovially slapped Remy on the shoulder then leaned in the club and flagged down one of the girls. “Cocoa! Tell Ginger we got a new girl. She looks aight.”
“You tell her yo self. You fat ass, mothafucka! I'm. Busy.” Cocoa flipped him the bird and walked away to go sit on some customer's lap. Her whole demeanor shifted to that of silk and honey as she talked and laughed with the man.
“Fucking cunt. Aight, come on. I'll take ya to the house mom. Ya gotta watch out for selfish bitches like her. They'll— Oh hold up, gotta search ya. You aint her pimp, right?” The bouncer patted Remy down.
“I look like a fucking pimp?” Remy's voice was razor sharp.
“Sorry, man. They make me ask.” The bouncer threw his hands up then turned his attention to me. I swallowed hard, if he looked in my bag he'd definitely spot the gun. “You nervous, huh? This your first dancing job?”
I managed a weak smile and nodded.
“Is' cool, relax. You'll do aight. A girl like you's gonna make a killing in here.” The bouncer smiled and motioned for me to walk in. He didn't even look at my bag. I exhaled. Everything about this made my skin crawl. What was I doing here?
Remy squeezed my hand lightly. Right away my nerves calmed a bit. I wasn't alone, he'd take care of me. I just had to trust him. I could do that. He placed a hand on my lower back and we followed the man in the black shirt.
An artificial freshener blanketed the air. It didn't replace the smells, it just created this noxious, sickly sweet cocktail that almost made me gag. The club's two circular stages were connected in the middle by a thick catwalk and surrounded by plush, shoulder-high, semi-circular chairs and round wooden tables. The walls were lined with dimly lit booths for the lap dances.
The bouncer took us to the DJ. He was a thin man with a button up shirt, rolled at the sleeves with a loose tie. He looked really young but
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