After receiving terrible news about the future of her career, a NYC ballerina becomes a choreographer at a failing male strip club to make some extra cash and spice up her life. What she doesn't expect is to fall for the one man who doesn't want his...
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This was Blanche's grandson? The one Rhonda bought me a private dance with? I lifted an eyebrow. His body was exactly what my body needed after a day like today. Romeo looked like the kind of man who knew exactly what he was doing too. I imagined riding his face while his big hands cupped my ass in some private room.
I might've been panting over book-reading, suit-wearing, Hot Stranger earlier today, but sweet hell, this man was something else. Tattooed and gritty. Maybe I needed to add a new quality to my list of things I liked in a man–the ability to look good while wearing a ball cap.
Even though I couldn't see his eyes because of the hat, I felt drawn to this man. I was looking for Mr. Right Now, and Romeo could definitely be that for me.
He was doing a lot of things to me right now just by looking at him.
Blanche's Brawds were all on their feet, chanting Romeo's name like his own personal hype squad. It was kinda cute how into the show they were getting. Unlike the Oiled Olive, there weren't any special effects or special lighting. It was just the stage and the guys and their fans.
But there was nothing cute about the tattooed monstrosity standing directly in front of me.
With his massive arms crossed over his chest, I realized Romeo was the star of this show. It was obvious by the way the other guys took their positions off him, like the way ballerinas took their positions off each other, but I could tell something was off with their choreography.
None of their dance moves were synced up, and the guys weren't staying in their blocked spaces. It was like watching three-year-old ballerinas during their first class. And dear god, nothing killed the mood more than me comparing these insanely ripped men to toddlers. It made me want to go on stage and fix them so that the overall effect was cleaner.
The beat dropped, and Romeo took it as his cue to rip his shirt off.
Romeo, oh Romeo.
His bare chest certainly had me forgetting about the dance moves.
This man was about to have me quoting Shakespeare while turning the inside of my thighs slick with heat. My mouth fell open at the sight of the red roses and long black thorny vines snaking up his arms. The tattoos extended over his muscled chest, and damn, I wanted to trace a line over them with my tongue.
For a hot second, I swore he was staring down at me, watching me watch him. Knowing I liked what I saw. A grin kicked up one corner of his mouth, and I melted in my seat. My nipples beaded inside my padded bra, and I crossed my legs, squeezing my thighs together.
The choreography started back up again, and I heard West groan. While I was incredibly attracted to his man, the dancing was just embarrassing.
Maybe they were just nervous, I thought. If the guys recognized Maren and West, I could understand being intimidated. I knew exactly how to fix this and make them feel more comfortable.
