Strip. Delta Dupree
her head. He could’ve screwed her blind, in public, without her slightest resistance.
“Honey, you were set up,” Galaxeé said and snickered.
“What?” Blood pumped through her ears, a deep droning hum.
“I talked with Bryce before the show and told him what to do. Not everything, but enough to get you onstage. I thought I’d have to drag you there myself.”
“You what?” Unsteadily, Rio got to her feet, hands riding her hips, breaths shallow and rapid.
“He did a lot more than I expected. A lot more,” Galaxeé said dramatically. Her smile mutated into the usual cheesy grin.
A setup? What the devil?
“Don’t let Cockroach get near you. He just might jump your tail.”
“Cockroach?” They were talking about Bryce and some stupid setup. Who cared about the Roach? She wanted to know about this other mess.
“Pheromones. The boy can pick up the scent a mile away. I swear he’s got about ten genes of Bloodhound.” She sipped her martini. “Uh-oh. I told you.”
Rio followed her gaze.
A big, burly devil of a man flaunting a bristly beard, eyes the same shade as pecans, and massive hands and feet, Cockroach thought the word “suave” pertained to him. They’d hired him for his size, mainly as Killer Bods’ bouncer. His expertise had come in handy occasionally; he had ejected a couple of jealous boyfriends from the premises.
She knew Cockroach was sweet on her, but no matter what congenial put-down she’d used, he had always managed to return and try, try again. At this particular moment, she had no desire to spend conversational time with the bouncer. She had important issues to discuss with Galaxeé.
“Hey, little momma,” Cockroach greeted. He smiled broadly, showing perfect white teeth. “Looking mighty good tonight. Hot.”
“How many times have I told you, Cockroach?” Rio snapped. “I am not your little momma, your big momma, or any other momma to you. I am your boss.”
“Wuh-oh,” Galaxeé whispered as the bouncer’s smile wavered.
“I tally your hours, sign your checks and I also have the right to dismiss you for insubordination. Is that clear?”
“Yes. Yes, ma’am.”
“Cockroach, there’s a woman who needs a drink over there,” Galaxeé said, using the martini glass to point behind him.
Rio regretted the outburst the second she closed her mouth, knowing she’d hurt his feelings. Cockroach really was a nice guy and he’d protect her with his life.
Guilt raced through her brain for lashing out. She placed her hand on his arm before the bouncer spun away, gave him a light squeeze. “I’m sorry, Barry. I didn’t mean to sound evil and hateful.” She looked over at Galaxeé for help. “We wouldn’t know what to do without you.”
“Rough night, Cockroach,” Galaxeé added. “You’re our most valuable employee.”
He nodded, smiled, but the dull sadness in his eyes crushed Rio’s heart. She hugged him, brushed a kiss over his bristly cheek. “I really do need you as my friend.”
Eyes narrowed, jealousy ran a long, bumpy course through Bryce’s private thoughts.
Were they lovers? Didn’t Rio Saunders have any scruples at all? Seeing her with another man riled every wound-up molecule dividing in his body. And just where had that emotional shit come from when he hardly knew her?
He stood beside the stage, peeking out through the curtain’s sliver of an opening, trying to get a glimpse of the passionate woman who had trembled, surrendered and dissolved in his arms a few minutes ago. The same woman who now hugged another man with dedicated passion. He’d all but screwed her onstage! Now, she was wrapping herself around somebody else like a snug blanket.
What the fuck?
Didn’t he show how well they fit together? Didn’t she recognize the passion they’d shared? Didn’t she feel his goddamn hard-on?
Well, duh. How could she miss it? And look what happened.
He’d swelled to an enormous size while she sizzled in his arms. Hell, he still had an erection. Had the song not ended, he would’ve embarrassed himself and her. He was so close, on the damned edge of blowing his load when she’d viciously clamped the tip of his dick with the strength of pliers, her heat scorching hot.
Drowning in the glorious depths of her eyes, he’d almost forfeited what little self-restraint he had left. Kissing her hadn’t helped. She had the sweetest lips, pliant, irresistible and she’d matched his passion with as much intensity as he’d given her.
Then the music began to fade away, the scent of her sex filling his nostrils while he caressed her back over ecstasy’s threshold. He’d reined in the tempestuous, searing lust charging through his veins, arteries and his throbbing dick.
Drawing her upright, spinning her quickly, he’d tried to hide behind Rio, keep her protectively where she stood. But she eased out of his embrace, stepped aside, exposing his blatant erection—unleashed from his G-string—to a whole goddamn nightclub full of unabashed, uninhibited prowling cats.
And what had the owner of Killer’s done? She’d teased the living shit out of him, then moved on to the next unsuspecting “baby” and enticed him.
Some dick-teasers needed to be taught a lesson or two. And knowing—witnessing—Rio’s seductive response to him, a plan already in motion…
Then turn this freakin’ joint inside out.
“Cake,” Bryce mumbled darkly.
4
When the music blared to life and the next dancer emerged, Bryce made a beeline to the dressing room. Point-blank, he asked his buddy to assist him.
“Are you crazy?” Dallas asked. “Man, you must be nuts.”
“Just watch.”
“I don’t want to watch,” Dallas snapped. “Why are you doing this anyway? Are you thinking you can make her jealous? It won’t work, Bryce. She’s not like the little mommas. Rio’s got style and class, time on her side. You’ll ruin every chance you ever had, if you had any at all. What the hell’s the matter with you?”
“I’ve got my reasons.” He’d banked on their sixteen-year friendship. “Come on, man. Just this once. I’ll never ask anything of you again.”
Dallas sighed long and hard. “I must be crazy. All right, go ahead, but don’t come a-whinin’ when it blows up in your damn face, fool.”
Bryce stuck his hand out. “Thanks.”
“Thank me when it’s over. In fact, I will watch this stupid fiasco.”
Galaxeé crossed her legs and glared at Rio. “That was really fuck-nicious, Rio. You want him to quit?”
“Who? Bryce?” Dismissing him, the feel of his hard body against hers, was impossible. Still, this other stuff.
“No, not Bryce. Cockroach. You hurt his feelings. I found him for us. And if he quits, you’ll have to find a new bouncer.”
“Bryce would never—I mean, Cockroach would never quit.”
“He might after that stupid mess you pulled.” Sometimes, “Indignant” was her middle name. “Shit, if this is how you’ll act—snapping at everybody, cussing people out—after a good nut, I hope it doesn’t happen.”
“I didn’t cuss Bryce. I mean,” she said, shaking her head. “Cockroach.”
“Well, now,” Galaxeé said, sitting taller, folding