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  Strip or Treat

  Jana Mercy

  Whether you want to be tricked or treated, Heavenly Hunks has the eye candy for you. Join the party on Halloween night for their annual Strip or Treat bash! Needing a break from her carefully planned-out life, Sophia Walker agrees to manage her ill aunt’s male strip club. Only nothing in her dull existence has prepared her for her aunt’s yummy bartender.

  TBI agent Gray Erickson prides himself on his cool resolve, but when his prime suspect’s sexy niece takes over, Gray feels anything but cool. From the moment Sophia barges onto the scene, Gray is smitten by the leggy blonde. Too bad he can’t trust her. When Gray replaces a stripper for the Halloween bash, it becomes a toss-up as to who’s being tricked and who’s being treated as Sophia teaches him how to strip—his clothes and the protective layers from his heart.

  Can they forgive their deceit as love emerges from the masks they hide behind?

  Strip or Treat

  Jana Mercy

  Dedication

  To the 2003 RWA Golden Heart finalists and my fellow sisters at heart—the Wet Noodle Posse. Noodlers forever!

  Chapter One

  Gray Erickson leaned against the bar and watched the pirate on stage rip off his pants to a catchy Latin beat. Hordes of women squealed in delight as the Johnny Depp wannabe shook his assets. The stripper shimmied close enough for eager females to tuck various dead presidents into his thong.

  “I’ll have a light. Whatever you have on draft.” A buxom blonde waved a ten under Gray’s nose. Batting her mascara-caked lashes, she leaned forward, intentionally providing a view down her blouse and an eye-watering whiff of her heavy perfume.

  With a tight smile, he grabbed a cold mug and poured a drink for the lady. She licked her glossy red lips and eyed his bare chest with a hungry gleam. As if she’d like to gnaw her way through his bow tie and sink her teeth into his jugular. Or other sensitive body parts.

  He feigned another smile and slid the foaming beer in front of her. With a saucy wink, she stuck a folded bill down the front of his shorts. Her fingers lingered a bit too long and Gray clenched his jaw to restrain his sharp reply. He couldn’t afford to lose this job.

  Thank God Genevieve Walker, known by all as Madame G, hired him as a bartender. He hated to consider the lengths he’d go to, whatever it took to burst this investigation wide open.

  Fortunately, his looks and ability to mix one mean Midori Sour enticed the flamboyant club owner to hire him on the spot. She’d bought his down-on-his-luck lines and even offered the small, furnished apartment across the hallway from her extravagant one above the club.

  Too bad she lay in the hospital after suffering a stroke the previous week. He felt badly about her poor health but hoped his suspect’s untimely decline wouldn’t stagnate his case. All clues linked Heavenly Hunks to one of the largest organized drug rings in the middle Tennessee area.

  Gray scrutinized the loud, colorful female audience. Who would believe women behaved this way? No matter what the size, shape or age, the entire crowd had gone into estrogen overload. Old, young, short, tall, fat, skinny, scary—a tall, cool blonde caught his eye—to downright gorgeous.

  Sophia Walker. Madame G’s niece. She scanned the crowd and her aristocratic nose turned up ever so slightly, as if she shared his views on the other women’s antics. She stood at the back of the room, watching in apparent distaste as two women old enough to be her grandmothers joined the hip-grinding pirate on the stage.

  He guessed Sophia to be close to thirty. Her aura and attitude screamed old money and no-nonsense. She wore a designer dress that probably cost more than his pay for a week. It almost looked black except for when one of the colorful strobe lights danced over the deep purple material. Sleek nylons hugged her toned calves and disappeared beneath the skirt hemline flirting above shapely knees. Gray was a legs man. Always had been. What he could see of Sophia’s shamed Tina Turner at her best.

  Slowly, he traced the lines of her body. Lose the uptight clothes, let down her swept-up hair and she could easily qualify as every man’s fantasy come to life. Based upon his erotic dreams from the past few nights, he’d say she already qualified as his.

  He looked up and met her eyes. Wide lilac-colored eyes that seared straight through him like a hot knife slicing into a cold slab of butter. Gray swallowed the giant-sized lump that formed in his throat but couldn’t do a thing about the one bulging in his shorts. He’d just have to stay hidden behind the bar until he got his hard-on under control.

  Damn, when had he responded like this to a woman? Not since he’d been a wet-behind-the-ears teenager contemplating his first lay.

  This case got a helluva lot more interesting the day Sophia barged into his living room and demanded to know who he was.

  Gray frowned. The case. Was Sophia involved in drug sales? It didn’t seem possible since the two women weren’t close and Sophia only showed on the scene after Madame G’s stroke. But he’d learned long ago one couldn’t be too careful. Lethal weapons and hard-nosed criminals sometimes came in deceivingly beautiful, tempting packages.

  Her gaze remained locked with his, as if she struggled to figure out the electric surges zinging back and forth between them. Good, because he struggled with that one too.

  She flicked her attention back toward the two naughty grannies sandwiching the stripper in a butt-bumping grind while they played with his plastic sword.

  Obsessing over a potential suspect spelled nothing but trouble.

  Then again, trouble was Gray’s specialty.

  * * * * *

  Ten minutes later Sophia Walker glared at the almost naked, muscle-bound creep eyeing her as if she wore a thong instead of her favorite Dior dress. Not the best outfit for hanging out in a Nashville strip club but her aunt insisted she attend each night’s strip show. Why not look good even if your insides roiled with nerves? Besides the clothes were part of her business arsenal as a criminal investigator for the Internal Revenue Service and boosted her comfort level. Given her current circumstances she needed all the boost she could get.

  “I’ve already told you,” she started over since the already overpaid stripper hadn’t caught her drift the first go-around. “There’s no money for a raise.”

  Ken Barnes’ beady eyes darkened. Serpent-like. “Then give me a bonus.”

  Oh, she’d like to give him something all right. Like a pink slip.

  The lead dancer slithered closer, completely blocking her path out of the cramped supply closet she’d stepped into under the pretense of checking supplies. She’d needed a moment to catch her breath because of the way a certain bartender sent her pulse through the roof.

  “I can’t do that.” She eyed the boxes stacked precariously against the wall. Could she knock them over on him and run for it? Of course, she’d probably choke on the stirred dust. She already suffocated on the grimy layer that covered everything.

  He visually undressed her once again and Sophia ground her teeth together to keep from losing her temper. The man was a snake. A low-down, belly-crawling snake.

  “Guess you’ll have to make staying worth my while.”

  Sophia scowled. He wasn’t suggesting… He grabbed her and pulled her against his oil-covered body, ruining her dress. Could this day get any worse? He attempted to cover her mouth with his. Oh yeah. It could definitely get worse. She wasn’t kissing snake man. Not even if she had to stand on the street corner to find another lead dancer for her aunt’s club.

  “Leave me alone.” She twisted her head and pushed against his slimy chest. His tropical scent overwhelmed the closet’s filth. “I’m not kissing you.”

  “You’re kidding?” His forehead furrowed as if he couldn’t believe she refused him. No wonder with the way women pawed him when he
performed but Ken Barnes was a class A jerk. A jerk Aunt Genevieve, Madame G to most of the world, ordered Sophia to “pacify” by whatever means necessary. Did ramming one’s knee into someone’s groin count as pacification? Probably not. She sighed and tried for diplomacy one last time.

  “There’s someone else.” Until just a couple of weeks ago, there had been. In many ways her estranged aunt’s call had been a welcome excuse to leave Atlanta and her broken engagement to business icon, Nathanial Fleming.

  “Who?” Ken tightened his grasp on her upper arms.

  Gray Erickson’s dreamy silver eyes flashed before Sophia. It should have been Nate’s eyes haunting her daydreams. Then again, Nate had never haunted any of her dreams and therein laid the problem. Gray Erickson haunted.

  “No one you know.” An image of her and the club’s sexy bartender tangled in a lover’s embrace sent a heat wave cascading through her. Okay, so what red-blooded female wouldn’t be attracted to the brooding bartender? She blinked away the far-fetched fantasy and focused on the all too real jerk looming over her.

  “Who says he has to know?” Ken’s predatory grin told her he wasn’t buying her lies. Or just didn’t care.

  She rolled her eyes. Snake man would think that way.

  “Look, I’m not interested.” She straightened to her full height of five-eight. “Until my aunt recovers from her stroke, I’m your boss and you will treat me with respect.”

  “If I don’t?” he leered, not looking in the slightest concerned, more amused than anything.

  “Then you’re fired.” Her aunt would probably have another stroke when Sophia explained that one.

  “You can’t fire me.” He puffed out his oil-slicked chest. “Strip or Treat is next weekend. I’m the star,” he bragged. “Without me, the show will bomb and this place will go under.”

  His evil glint left Sophia wondering just how much he knew about the club’s dire finances. She’d momentarily forgotten about the big Halloween bash. Unfortunately his threat was all too real. Still, she stood her ground.

  “No one’s irreplaceable.” She hoped that was true. Where did one even look to hire a stripper? Studs R Us?

  “I am.” He sneered and yanked her against him to grind a kiss to her lips.

  No way was she putting up with this crap from some greasy strip-club sleazebag.

  “That’s it!” She readied her knee to “pacify” his groin but he thrust her away. The hair on her neck prickled in that odd way it did every time Gray Erickson was near and she knew. Six-feet-two of dangerous male flesh filled the doorway. Had he watched her come into the closet? Watched Ken follow? Gray always seemed to be watching. For once, she was glad.

  “What the hell’s going on in here?” Gray’s deep baritone reverberated through the supply closet.

  “Mind your own business, Erickson,” Ken growled, facing Gray like a dog ready to attack.

  Sophia didn’t need a measuring stick to know who’d win this cockfight. She turned and met Gray’s steely gaze. The man had bad ass written all over him, from his jet-black hair to his smoke-colored eyes. From the moment she’d walked into his apartment last week and caught him, sweaty and sexy, in a raggedy pair of navy gym shorts and little else, Gray fascinated her. Instinctively, she stepped in his direction.

  “Sophia?” A muscle rippled on Gray’s solid bare chest when he held out his hand. She bit back a sigh of pure feminine appreciation. She sure couldn’t find fault in her aunt’s choice of uniform. A sexy black bowtie fit snugly around his thick neck. Tight black silky shorts outlined his hips and manly bulges to perfection. Unless he was a sock stuffer, Gray Erickson could rock a woman’s world. Big-time.

  Sophia gulped, not believing she ogled Gray’s crotch when moments before Ken had attempted to slither his tongue down her throat. Plus, she was a woman on the rebound. Now was not the time to be thinking, or lusting, after some hot stranger. She squared her shoulders, ignored the way Gray made her pulse pound and looked Ken the belly crawler straight in the eyes.

  “Get your things, leave and don’t come back.”

  Dark eyes narrowed. “You can’t—”

  “I already did.” She kept her chin high and her gaze unwavering. “You’re fired.”

  Shooting a glare in Gray’s direction, Ken cocked his head at Sophia and called her several foul names. “You’ll regret this. Mark my words.”

  * * * * *

  “Hiya, stud-muffin. I’ll take a Screaming Orgasm.”

  Gray tugged on his too tight shorts and forced a smile at his latest customer, a profoundly endowed brunette whose glitter-covered skin twinkled under the rotating strobe lights.

  “A Screaming Orgasm, huh?” How many times had he heard that one tonight alone? He turned to mix her drink and ignored her loud, appreciative sigh.

  Hell, he hated wearing these skimpy shorts but at least he wasn’t on the stage letting Grandma Clampett rub baby oil onto his thighs. Oh yeah, this undercover job could be a helluva lot worse than standing behind the bar giving flirty women Screaming Orgasms.

  He slid the drink to the brunette.

  She plucked a ten from her ample bosom and winked. “Keep the change, big boy.”

  Gray watched her retreating figure. The stacked, curvaceous woman didn’t begin to affect his libido. Not the way the svelte blonde right in front of him did.

  “Sophia.” When had she sidled up to the bar?

  Surprised that she sought out his company since she generally avoided him, he leaned against the bar, blocking her view of his lower half. Damn tight ass shorts.

  “Thanks for coming to my rescue earlier.” She glided her curvy bottom onto a plastic bar seat shaped like a giant man’s hand. The entire club catered to feeding a woman’s fantasies.

  Sophia fed Gray’s fantasies and he was a hungry man. Starved.

  “Don’t sweat it.” He looked into eyes the color of those small purple flowers his mother had grown in their kitchen windowsill in Mississippi. “Ken’s an ass.”

  Gray had disliked the self-absorbed egomaniac lead stripper from the moment they met. Ken topped his list of likely suspects. Still, his background check came up squeaky clean. Not even a traffic violation. Too clean for someone so arrogant.

  “Yeah, well,” she sighed melodramatically. “His ass is apparently one of the reasons why women come to this place.”

  Gray smothered a grin at how her nose crinkled with disapproval. “You’re better off without him.”

  “Without a doubt but none of the other guys draw a crowd the way Ken does.” Her shoulders drooped ever so slightly but Gray noticed. The same way he noticed every single thing about this woman. From her flowery scent to the way her smile lit up a room.

  Gray’s gut tightened. He’d wanted to beat Ken’s face in when the guy trapped Sophia in the closet. “You need to stay away from Barnes. He’s not the kind of guy to mess with.”

  Not that he had anything to base that on except his gut instinct and Ken’s pawing of Sophia. Gray learned to trust his gut instinct long ago.

  “Do you strip?” Her gaze was hopeful.

  “Not hardly.” Gray snorted. “I’d rather be shot in the foot than take off my clothes in a roomful of women.”

  Her brow arched. A mixture of disappointment, curiosity and amusement danced in her eyes. “Are you gay?”

  Gray supposed he’d asked for that one and didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended. He rocked back on the heels of his ridiculous black lace-up boots. “What do you think?”

  “It’s so hard to tell these days,” she murmured. Her cheeks glowed but she held his gaze.

  Gray’s lips twitched while he invaded her personal space. Mere inches separated them. “Any time you want proof of my sexual preferences, you let me know. I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  She licked her lower lip. Intentionally? He wasn’t sure but the effect of her pink tongue moistening her plump mouth left no doubt about his sexual preferences. No doubt at all.

  Funny, hav
ing spent time with her flashy, free-spirited aunt, he thought Sophia would be a goodtime girl. One with silicone enhancements and really big hair. A woman after a good time who didn’t expect more than mutual physical pleasure. Gray’s kind of woman. Although not a goodtime girl, the authenticity of her admirable curves remained questionable and he’d be more than happy to volunteer to peel off her clothes to discover the truth.

  “As your new boss that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  Gray blinked. Had she read his mind? He retraced their conversation. Nah, she referred to his offer to prove his sexual preferences.

  He shrugged. “Your choice.”

  Her expression became thoughtful. Only the bar separated them and the scent of lilacs drifted through his senses. Soft, subtle but an intoxicatingly sexy scent. Just like the woman who wore the fragrance.

  She gave his body another once-over with her unusual-colored eyes. Were they contacts? Doubtful since Madame G’s eyes boasted the same rare color.

  “My aunt really did mess up when she put you behind the bar.”

  Madame G had offered him a spot on stage but Gray convinced her to let him serve drinks. “She needed a bartender.”

  “I suppose.” Sophia didn’t look convinced but she did keep eying his mostly bare body. Her expression broadcast her every thought. She envisioned him stripping. Sensually. Seductively. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and his breath caught so hard he’d swear someone sucker punched him. Her gaze traveled down his chest, lower. He tried not to flex his muscles under her velvety assessment but the urge to preen beneath her stare tempted. He wanted to knock Sophia Walker’s hose right off of those shapely legs.

  Liquid heat tornadoed through his gut while she continued to mentally strip him. His abdominal muscles clenched and, although it shouldn’t have, her indrawn breath pleased him in ways he couldn’t define.

  Her interest could prove useful in cracking this case. That had to be why. At least that’s what he kept telling himself when he grinned and added, “Besides, I’m good at what I do.” Her eyes darkened and he dropped his voice to a low growl. “Very good.”