StriporTreat Read online

  “I bet.” Her cheeks flushed, she quickly averted her eyes, hinting that she hadn’t meant to make her admission.

  He grinned. It would be easy to like Sophia. Not that he would let himself. He was here on business. Sophia, however unlikely to be involved, was a suspect until proven otherwise. Besides, as a Tennessee Bureau of Investigations agent, Gray didn’t become emotionally involved with suspects.

  Or anyone else for that matter.

  Sexually involved was another matter entirely.

  “Want something to drink?” He considered offering her a Screaming Orgasm or some Sex on the Beach but decided she’d think him as corny as he thought all the flirtatious women ordering the drinks with more invitation on their breath than actual thirst.

  “No, what I really want,” she paused, looking as jumpy as a kitten surrounded by a pack of snarling dogs. “What I need,” she clarified, her eyes locking with his, begging him to say yes to whatever she requested and damn if he didn’t wait with bated breath and a yes on the tip of his tongue. “Is for you to take off your clothes for me.”

  Sophia realized what she said about the same time Gray’s blue-black eyebrows hiked up. He rested his palms flat against the polished bar surface and bent so close his breath brushed her face.

  “Excuse me?”

  “That didn’t come out quite the way I intended.” Her cheeks burned. “I need you to strip for me.” At the twinkle in his molten eyes, she launched into a babbled explanation. “On Halloween night. Take Ken’s place. No woman would be disappointed if you took off your clothes. On stage, that is.” Her face blazed and she wondered if she should just shut up. “I know you said you don’t strip but you’re ten times sexier than he ever dreamed of being.”

  Yes, she should have shut up. Her jumbled words only served to brighten the light in Gray’s eyes. She attempted to swallow but her dry throat stuck together. Darn, she wished she’d taken his offer of a drink.

  “Thanks.” A slow lifting of his lips robbed Sophia’s lungs of their ability to inhale.

  “But,” he continued in his rich baritone that she could much too easily imagine whispering words of seduction. “I’ve already told you, I don’t strip.”

  “I’d pay you extra.” Even if she had to do so out of her own pocket.

  Unfazed, he shook his head. “What little clothing I have on, stays on.”

  “But,” she began again. “I’ve thought about how I can handle Ken’s departure and the only way to ensure Strip or Treat’s success is to find another ‘treat’ for my aunt’s bash. You’re that treat. There isn’t anyone else who can pull off the grand finale.”

  When he looked ready to argue, she hurried on. “I could hire a new stripper between now and then. But even if I could find someone with the right look, I’d be relying on an unknown to headline the show. Too risky.”

  “Get Elvis.”

  Good thing she didn’t have a drink. She’d have spewed it into his face at his outlandish suggestion. She rolled her eyes at the image of the sixty-year-old stripper. Elvis Constiago had been employed by Heavenly Hunks for so long Aunt Genevieve didn’t mind that the wrinkly man gave a whole new meaning to hunka hunka burning love. Or that he garnered more good-natured laughs than lusty oohs and aahs. Still, the crowds always called and cheered for him. However, grand finale he was not.

  “Elvis is already on schedule for Strip or Treat night. So are the other regular guys. Everybody has their part in the show, but the the ‘treat’ is supposed to be something out of the ordinary. The audience will be expecting something they haven’t seen a dozen times before.” She bit the inside of her lower lip, not trying to hide her desperation. She was desperate. Her choices were to fail or convince Gray. “I need you for the last strip. The big shebang.” Her gaze lowered to where his six-pack disappeared enticingly behind the bar. “No pun intended.”

  Surprise at her teasing registered on his face. No wonder. From the moment she realized he reduced her to a bumbling idiot every time she looked at him, she made sure to stay away.

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. I’m not the right man for your aunt’s Halloween party. Find someone else.” His tone left no room for argument but she pushed anyway. What choice did she have?

  “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” She didn’t want to beg but if he agreed she wouldn’t have to worry about her aunt’s reaction. Lord, what if Aunt Genevieve got so upset she really had another stroke?

  “Nope. But for you,” he charmingly waggled his brows, “I’d find it in my heart to do a private performance.”

  Sophia gulped, trying to squelch the rising temptation to plead for a private performance this very moment. Right now. Haul her behind the bar and have his wicked way with her. But a private performance wasn’t what she needed. Wanted, yes. Needed, no. This was about much more than want. She’d do whatever it took to keep from being a failure in her aunt’s eyes. Already that’s how everyone else in her family saw her. No way would she let her aunt’s trust be misplaced.

  What was that old saying? That everyone had their price? “What would it take to convince you?”

  He dipped his mouth close. If she so much as hiccupped, their lips would touch. “Not much,” he said. “Just say the word. I’ll carry you upstairs for a performance you’ll never forget.”

  Gray’s exposed shoulders, so broad and within her reach, smacked her libido into overdrive. The suggestion in his husky tone, the carnal hunger in his eyes, the testosterone that oozed from his every pore made her long for everything he could give. She stared at his mouth, wishing she could stretch the tiny amount that would bring their lips in contact. Could she fake a hiccup? Lord knows she’d faked just about everything else during her life.

  “Would you do Strip or Treat if I answered yes?” Shocked at herself, she held her breath at the naked desire in his eyes. Did she want him to say yes? To give her an excuse to quit listening to the voice of reason reminding her of Nate and her family responsibilities?

  “I’ve never coerced a woman into sharing my bed.” Without so much as a blink, his expression became serious. “All my undressing performances are private. No exceptions.”

  Had she been more like her aunt, or at least willing to act on the wild urges that lurked beneath her surface, Gray would be exactly the kind of man she’d choose to embark with on a few sexual fantasies. Being a sensible woman who walked the straight and narrow path made her a big fat loser this time.

  And since when had a man smelled so good? Gray did. All musky spice that made her want to inhale deeply to experience his scent.

  “Thanks but I’ll have to pass,” she murmured, hearing her regret and realizing their conversation had come full circle.

  “If that’s what you want.” Her aunt’s buff bartender assured without acting as if her refusal bothered him in the slightest. Not that she expected it to. Not really. Men treated her like a porcelain princess, not a sex kitten.

  Yet Gray looked at her with predatory lust. Then again, his testosterone level probably ran so high he looked at every woman as if he wanted to spend the entire night making her scream his name.

  “Sophia.” His voice sounded gravelly.

  “Uhm?” She gazed at his mouth. What would it feel like to have him kiss her? To possess her completely?

  “You shouldn’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” His lovemaking wouldn’t be gentle, wouldn’t allow her to think about anything but his hands, his mouth, on her body. Gray’s possession would be total, demanding, unlike anything she’d ever known. Unlike the tame, polite sex that encompassed her sexual knowledge base.

  “Like you want me right here, right now.”

  She did want him right here, right now. Which was ludicrous. She was recovering from her split with Nate and, damn, Gray’s mouth called to her. She bit the inside of her lower lip and dragged her gaze from his mouth. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He plac
ed his hand over hers. Needles of awareness pricked her. “You’re a desirable woman.”

  “Ken certainly thought so in the closet earlier,” she mused, feeling a bit unnerved by Gray’s compliment and more so by his touch, by her wild response to everything about him.

  His callused thumb stroked over her hand like a lover’s whisper on a rainy afternoon spent in bed. “You did the right thing by getting rid of Barnes. He was trouble.”

  “Yes, I know but unless I can change your mind, I’m short a Halloween treat and don’t think Saturday night’s audience is going to appreciate being tricked.”

  Chapter Two

  “Sophia, dear. I’m proud of how you’ve taken charge of the club.” Genevieve Walker’s speech slurred, each word reminding Sophia of her aunt’s fragile health. “I didn’t know who else to trust with my baby.”

  A heavily bejeweled hand patted Sophia’s. Each morning the nurse removed the jewelry but the rings always ended up back on her aunt’s fingers. Sophia stared at the colorful gems.

  “I hope you won’t regret that decision.”

  Up to this point, she wasn’t sure her aunt had made a good choice. Sophia was used to dealing with numbers, not men taking off their clothes. Which just went to prove the sad state of her life.

  “Nonsense. You’re doing a fine job.” Another soft hand pat. “I was afraid the doors would close.” Aunt Genevieve sighed and looked every one of her almost sixty years. “That would hurt me in ways this stroke never could.”

  Sophia’s feet shifted and she wanted to scream for her aunt not to get too set on the club remaining open. Unless Sophia found a solution to Saturday night’s performance, it might not. It wouldn’t take much to push the club into bankruptcy.

  There were some major problems with the entries in the account ledger. Strippers paid who, as best as Sophia could tell, never worked for Heavenly Hunks. Purchased services or goods paid to companies that didn’t exist. But she’d deal with that later, when her aunt didn’t watch her every expression and her conscience didn’t demand she launch an official criminal investigation.

  “You know I never raised any children of my own. That club’s all I’ve ever had, my family.” Aunt Genevieve took a few deep breaths. Moisture gathered in her eyes, the violet orbs now as sparkly as the rings on her fingers. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re here taking care of things.”

  Sophia almost winced. As if she didn’t have enough pressure to succeed.

  “Tell me about Gray Erickson.” Talk about increasing pressure. Sophia’s blood pressure shot through the roof. Why had she just asked her aunt about her tenant?

  “Gray?” Aunt Genevieve’s expression became pensive. “What about him?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Sophia waved her hand dismissively. She should never have brought up her aunt’s hunky bartender.

  “Has he done something?”

  “Done something? No.” But I wish he’d do me. Sophia’s cheeks burned. “I just wondered. Since he lives across the hallway. From you, I mean.”

  Aunt Genevieve cackled, some color returning to her pale cheeks. “Well, it ain’t so I can sneak across and get me some. Not that I wouldn’t if I were a few years younger, mind you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh?” Her aunt smiled knowingly. “He needed a place to stay. The guest apartment sat empty. Why not? I like him. Don’t completely trust him but I do like the boy.”

  “I’m not sure I’d call Gray a ‘boy’.”

  “You do have a point. He’s all man, ain’t he?” A wrinkled eyelid winked. “You sneaking across the hallway to do my bartender, Sophia? Is that why you look so tired?”

  Heat radiated from her cheeks. She was tired. Sitting up and studying an archaic accounting system that hid a lot of secrets better left untold would do that to a girl. Especially when that girl felt ethically bound to report those suspected secrets, yet just as ethically bound to protect her aunt.

  “You know, I broke off my engagement a few weeks ago.” She’d feed her aunt the same lines she’d been feeding herself. “The last thing I need is to start a relationship with Gray.”

  “Sugar, Gray is the kind of man you have a really wild ride with, not a relationship.” Aunt Genevieve was just too much. “Take my advice, sleep with him if that’s what you want but don’t fool yourself for one minute that it means a thing.”

  Sophia ordered her mouth to close.

  “Gray’s a drifter and, honestly,” Aunt Genevieve continued. “I’m surprised he’s still at the club. I guessed he’d leave in a month tops.”

  “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”

  “You do that.”

  For the first time since Sophia entered the hospital room silence filled the antiseptic-laced air.

  “Uhm, there’s something I need to tell you,” she began, hoping she didn’t upset Aunt Genevieve too much with the news she fired Ken. And should she ask about the books? See how her aunt reacted? Probably not. Ignorance might be bliss.

  “You look worried. Don’t be.” The hand covering Sophia’s squeezed lightly. “I’m fine with you entertaining my bartender and I’ve already heard things are going well at the club.”

  What?

  “I’m not entertaining your bartender.” At least, not intentionally. “Who told you about the club?” Had someone dropped the bomb about her firing Ken?

  A smile that drooped slightly on one side slashed across her aunt’s face. “I have my sources.”

  Sophia was sure she did. Several of the strippers had visited. They all treated her like a surrogate mother. “Well, saying they’re going well might be stretching things a bit.” She stared at the tubing running from an IV machine into her aunt’s wrist.

  “Oh, balderdash,” Aunt Genevieve said. “You’re doing a fine job.”

  Of screwing things up and asking questions she might not want to know the answers to. “Not really.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because.” Here it was, her chance to explain about Ken and not having a lead act for Strip or Treat. And to ask about all those strippers being paid who didn’t work at the club. Strippers that no W-2 wage statements had ever been issued for. She didn’t have to work for the IRS to know that qualified as tax fraud and was a felony. Not to mention it reeked of money laundering and Lord only knew what all else.

  “Good morning, Miss Walker.” A perky woman who looked barely out of her teens jaunted into the room, stealing away all semblance of privacy. “Ready for your physical therapy?”

  “What is it with you people and making me get out of bed?” Aunt Genevieve complained with all the gusto of a true drama queen, her eyes sparkling.

  “Surely you didn’t think this was the Holiday Inn.” The young therapist playfully rolled her eyes. “Next thing you know, you’ll be demanding for kids to eat free.”

  “Darn tootin.” Aunt Genevieve winked at the woman, then scowled. “Wait a minute. I thought I told you I wanted a male therapist. One with really big hands and a nice butt?”

  “You did but,” the woman put emphasis on the word and shrugged nonchalantly, “looks like you’re stuck with me. Something about you pinching a male nurse aide’s rear end. Or something like that.”

  Sophia covered her mouth to keep from laughing at her aunt’s appalled expression.

  “He practically begged for it, looking so fine in those blue scrubs. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t touching me too,” Aunt Genevieve protested.

  “Puh-leeze. He was giving you a bath.” The therapist unplugged the IV machine and draped the cord around a hook on the metal stand holding the unit.

  “So? I could tell he was enjoying himself. Only fair I enjoyed myself a bit back.”

  “You didn’t,” Sophia gasped, not quite managing to smother her laughter. Her aunt was so outrageous. So free-spirited.

  So what Sophia imagined she’d like to be.

  “She most certainly did,” the therapist assured.

  Soph
ia visited with her aunt for a few minutes more, regretting that the moment of revelation passed without her telling Aunt Genevieve the truth, nor with her mentioning the accounting discrepancies.

  * * * * *

  Gray leaned against a dingy hallway wall that hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint during his lifetime. His gaze raked over the light green pantsuit Sophia wore. A brightly colored scarf adorned her throat. A vivid splash of color in the otherwise dank corridor. Apparently, she hadn’t heard him climb the narrow stairwell to the second floor of Heavenly Hunks moments after she had.

  “I don’t know the first thing about running a strip club,” she mumbled to herself while digging through her suitcase-sized purse, presumably searching for the keys to her aunt’s apartment.

  He cleared his throat.

  “Oh.” She spun toward him, dropped her purse and the keys she’d finally dug out clanged against the floor. “I didn’t know you were there.”

  “I figured that. You need to be more careful,” he warned, taking notice of the items that fell from her purse. Keys, sunglasses and a pink packet of fizzy candy. “If I’d been a mugger, you’d have been easy prey. Ken didn’t leave happy. Did you file a police report on his assaulting you?”

  He’d spoken with the officer yesterday morning and knew she had.

  She smiled in a manner that might be called tight if her lips weren’t so kissably full. Faint circles rimmed her eyes, almost giving a bruised appearance. Hadn’t she been sleeping? Not that he could say much. Visions of Sophia beneath him, naked, squirming, begging for more, had robbed him of more than a few winks.

  “Uhm, I’ll remember that and, yes, I spoke with an officer about Ken.” She glanced down the narrow confines of the bleak hallway as if she searched for a would-be attacker before returning her drained gaze to him. The delicate lines of her throat shifted. “I guess I’m a little distracted. I just got back from visiting with Aunt Genevieve.”

  “How is Madame G?”

  Sophia took a deep breath. Her movements expanded her chest, stretched the lime material taut over her breasts.