Look Don’t Touch

  I sidled up to the bar.

  Rocky pointed at me. "The usual?"

  "Yep."

  He returned seconds later with my beer. "What a night," he grunted. "Ruby and two of the girls are out with the flu. Guess it's going around." He hurried off to help the next customer.

  I made my way to the front corner near the stage where a counter lined the wall to hold drinks. All the seats and tables were taken, but I wasn't planning to stay long. The dancer who had just finished, Roxie, I think, disappeared off stage but emerged quickly through the side door to mingle with the customers. She headed straight toward me with her glitter covered skin and see through blouse. Her red hair had been braided like a school girl, which went along with the short plaid skirt she'd pulled back on over her g-string.

  She leaned right up against me, pressing her hip against my fly. "Hello, handsome, haven't seen you in here lately. Are you interested in a personal strip show in the back room? I'll give you my special rate of twenty dollars."

  "I think I'll just drink my beer. Thank you though."

  "Fine, but you're missing out," she said with a far less flirty tone. She sashayed away in her school girl costume. Rocky was so busy tending his bar, the music started up without his usual introduction.

  The second Shay's long, silky leg slipped between the parted drape panels at the back of the stage, the audience roared. She tossed back the curtains and stepped onto the stage. Her brown eyes glittered in the wavering stage lights as she smiled out from under the brim of her shiny black top hat.

  I drank my beer and watched with as much undivided attention as the other men in the audience. My cock was throbbing and pushing against the fly of my jeans. After Shay left my house, I briefly went through a list of other women who I thought could be tempted into my unorthodox plan, but I couldn't come up with one name. I needed someone who made me horny as hell and someone who I'd never touched before. I needed to drive myself nuts with thinking about how she'd feel naked beneath me, my cock pumping into her. Shay fit all the qualifications. Hell, I'd already spent a good deal of time visualizing her in my bed, her long legs spread wide and her nipples tight with anticipation.

  Shay slipped out of her black tail coat. The final sleeve dripped off the end of her hand, and she twirled the coat once before flinging it to the back of the stage. Her long leg kicked up and around, a move that made a man with long greasy hair and a neck tattoo lunge out of his seat. He stood at the edge of the stage leering at Shay and swiping his tongue around his mouth. Normally Rocky would have made him sit down, but he was swamped with customers at the bar. Shay ignored him and continued with her routine.

  Her long fingers wrapped around the stripper pole. She curled her body around it, hugging it between her thighs as she peeled her body gracefully away from the pole. She arched her back and landed her hands on the stage beneath her head and shoulders. Then, one at a time, her long legs arced through the air and over her head. She was incredibly talented and athletic, which only made her that much more sensuous. This place was a pit, and Rocky didn't deserve to have her on his warped, ugly stage.

  Shay stood and leaned all the way down, sweeping her arms around in a circle. As she swung back the other way, the greasy haired creep reached out and grabbed her hand. He pulled her sharply to her knees at the edge of the stage.

  I shot across the floor and grabbed his wrist. It was thick, like the rest of him. His bitter smelling breath shot my way as he growled in anger. I squeezed down on his wrist like an iron clamp. The other spectators cheered me on, mad as hell that the asshole had stopped the dance.

  "Let her arm go, or I will twist yours clean away from your shoulder," I said through a clenched jaw.

  The man was a few teeth short as he sneered back at me. "I'd like to see you try." Reluctantly, he released Shay. She shot to her feet and rubbed her wrist as she backed away from the edge of the stage.

  The toothless idiot stared back at me, but I wasn't ready to let go of him. I badly wanted to hurt the fucker for yanking Shay to her knees. I wanted to rip his arm clean off for touching her. I was about to make good on my threat when Rocky's angry voice shot through the spectators cheering me on.

  "Nash, no fighting in this bar." Rocky pushed through the layers of onlookers and reached the center of their attention. "Let him go. I'll deal with him."

  I gave the man's arm a bone bruising squeeze before releasing him. I couldn't stop myself. I had no idea where the eruption of anger had come from, but I wanted to strangle the asshole. I moved toe to toe with him. He was a few inches taller and a good fifty pounds bigger, but it was mostly useless fat.

  I jammed my finger in his face. "Don't you ever grab her again."

  Rocky put a bracing hand on my shoulder. "I said I'd take care of this."

  Some of the blood cooled in my head. I stepped back out of the way. My eyes swept up to the stage. Shay stood there, her brown eyes shiny with tears, rubbing her wrist. Our gazes locked for a second before she spun around and ran off stage. The audience booed and stomped the floor, wanting their favorite dancer to come back out.

  Rocky waved his hand in the air to silence them. "A beer on the house for all of you."

  That appeased them quickly. He turned to the greasy haired jerk. "We have strict rules around here. You broke about ten just now, so get out and don't come back."

  I flashed a victorious grin at the man as he scowled my direction. He grabbed his coat and dragged the chair it hung on for a few feet before kicking it away. He smacked the door hard on his way out.

  Rocky turned back to me. "Thanks for helping out. Now I've got a hundred beers to fill."

  "Wait"—I pulled out my wallet and handed him a hundred dollar bill—"To help with the cost."

  Rocky nodded in gratitude and took the money.

  Someone threw a few coins in the jukebox, and Elvis twanged off the walls as the bar patrons got back to their beers and their conversations. Rocky was too busy to notice me slip into the back hallway. Concerned feminine voices drifted up the narrow, dark passage from a back room where light glowed through a half open doorway.

  The other women were circled around someone, handing in tissue and consoling words. Their faces shot toward the doorway when the floor creaked beneath my foot. Roxie smiled and began a round of applause. Their bodies parted, revealing the tear stained face of their shaken coworker. The dancer who dressed like Dorothy of Oz leaned down and whispered something in Shay's ear before ushering all the other women out of the room. They whispered words of thanks and gave me pats on the back as they walked out of the room.

  "Rocky will be mad if he catches you back here." Shay took a quick swipe at her tears and tossed the tissue onto the dressing table.

  "I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

  "I'm fine." She shrugged casually, but her fingers were trembling. "Thank you for stepping in. I thought I was going to fall face first off the stage." She forced an airy tone, but I could hear the waver behind her words.

  "As long as you're all right, I'll leave you alone." I headed out the door.

  "Does the offer still stand?" she asked faintly.

  I stepped back into the room. "Yes. Two weeks. A hundred grand. Then you won't have to set foot in this place again."

  "And I just have to stand around looking like a tasty chocolate in a chocolate shop?"

  It was hard not to smile at the way she phrased things. "Yes. A chocolate shop where there's no sampling of the goods."

  "What if you do sample—I mean, what happens if you break your end of the contract and—touch me. I mean not just a casual brush in the hallway, but—you know—a touch."

  "Fair enough. It won't happen. But if it does, I'll pay you a million dollars." Padding the contract with a big money loss would only help me keep control.

  Shay laughed. "You're just messing with me now."

  "Nope. I'm not messing with you. If I screw up—which I won't—I'll pay you a million dollars."

  "You
are completely crazy."

  "You don't know the half of it, darlin'. What do you say? A hundred grand and a two week stay in a beach house or the front seat of your car and Fantasm Strip Club where greasy haired psychos can yank you off the stage?"

  "Well, when you line the two choices up like that . . ." She sighed. "I'm probably even crazier than you for considering it but yes. I'm getting a terrible kink in my neck from sleeping in my car."

  "I'll have my lawyer draw up a contract. You can move in tomorrow. Do you need me to talk to Rocky? He's not going to be happy about losing his newest dancer."

  "No, I'll take care of it." Shay stood from the chair and headed to the closet for her clothes. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Archer."

  "Tomorrow. And since we're going to be roommates for a few weeks, you can call me Nash."

  11

  I finished going over the contract my lawyer, Rhonda Sutter, had sent. Rhonda was always all business. She was great about not asking questions or, in this case, passing judgment. The contract was simple and to the point. The final piece of the contract included the statement that I would pay Shay Starling a million dollars if I broke the deal by touching her intimately. Smug, overly confident asshole that I was, I'd offered the amount without giving it much thought. Then Shay pulled up to the house and climbed out of her car in a skin-tight pair of jeans and clingy sweater, and my confidence blew away like dust in the wind.

  I watched her for a second through the glass on the front door. She stood next to her car, hugging herself and looking way less sure about everything than she had the night before. I stopped myself from walking out to the porch to coax her inside. She needed to be sure of herself, and she didn't need my salesman pitch to cloud her judgment. The decision had to be hers.

  I was shocked at the level of disappointment I felt when she turned back to her car. It seemed she had changed her mind. Then she leaned into her car and yanked out a heavy duffle bag. She stumbled back with it a few steps.

  I walked outside and down the steps. A warm Santa Ana wind had ushered in a mid fall heat wave, and the temperature was close to eighty. "I can get that," I said.

  Shay gladly handed the heavy bag over to me. "I managed to get most of my important possessions in this one bag. Which either makes me very efficient or pathetically poor."

  I found myself smiling at almost everything she said. Her personality was something I'd never factored in when I chose her as my temptation. She was extraordinarily sexy, and my ignorance had caused my mind to go straight to the stereotypical assumption that she would be dull or conceited or shallow.

  I carried her duffle bag up the steps, and she followed with a lumpy pillow tucked under her arm. "The bed already has pillows and blankets."

  "I'm sure it does, but I can't sleep without my favorite pillow."

  I led her into the entryway. She stared up at the iron lamp I'd had handcrafted by a local artist. "I love that. It looks sort of medieval, yet it has a beachy vibe."

  "Great. Coastal medieval was exactly the look I was going for."

  She followed me into the front room, where the picture window provided an amazing view of the pool and the beach below.

  She clutched her pillow against her and headed straight to the window. My gaze went straight to her ass. It was sealed seductively in tight denim, and heat surged down to my cock. This plan was either going to be brilliant, or it was going to kill me.

  Shay spun around. "You wake up to this view every day?"

  "Sometimes it's cloudy."

  She pulled the blue beanie off her silky white hair. Strands floated up from the static charge, and she smoothed them down as she surveyed the room. "You have good taste for a man. But then, I suppose an oversized, fake leather easy chair and cinderblock and plywood coffee table wouldn't really work in a Malibu beach house."

  "I can't take too much credit. I had a decorator." I heaved the duffle bag onto my shoulder. "I'll show you your room and then we can go over the contract."

  A hint of citrus scent sifted through the hallway as I led Shay to the guest bedroom. "I like that perfume," I said over my shoulder. "What is it?"

  "Perfume? Bargain basement shampoo. The label boasted an orange blossom scent. I question the validity of that."

  I pushed open the door and carried the bag to the upholstered bench at the end of the bed. Shay's gaze traveled around the room.

  "Will this do?"

  "Meh, it's free, so I guess I can't complain." She walked over and drew back the curtains. The midday sun streamed into the room, highlighting the teal blue and white paint the interior designer had chosen for the color scheme. The window in the guest room gave an unobstructed view of the water. "The view's not bad." She broke from her serious face. "Oh my gosh, I died. Someone forgot to tell me that I died, and for some strange reason, I landed in heaven. Probably a mix up at the pearly gates. The only thing I can't figure out is how you got past those pearly gates."

  "Yeah, if this is heaven there was definitely a mix up." I walked over to the closet and pulled open the doors. "I had some things delivered this morning. I guessed on the sizes, but I think most of it should fit."

  Shay walked past me and into the closet. Most of the items were silky, sexy lingerie from an exclusive boutique in town. She ran her fingers over the shiny fabric of a baby blue teddy that had sheer lace peek-a-boo cut outs in strategic places.

  "You weren't kidding when you said it would be the good stuff," she said in a much more subdued tone than seconds before. She stared at the skimpy, provocative clothes I'd purchased, and her eyes lost some of the glitter.

  "Are you all right?" I asked.

  She nodded. "As long as I can hold onto my self-esteem through all of this, I'll be fine."

  "And far better off financially. You won't ever have to strip for creepy, grabby men again," I reminded her.

  A sad laugh rolled from her lips. "You're right. Self-esteem, who am I kidding? I was hugging a stripper's pole just last night. I lost any shred of it long ago."

  "You need to think of this as a lucrative business deal, Shay. You haven't lost your self-esteem. You just have to find it again."

  She sucked in a deep breath. "Right. What about that contract?" she blurted before I could say anything more.

  We returned to the front room. I had the contract out on the table in the breakfast nook. "Would you like something to drink?" I asked. "I filled the fridge with a few things, not sure what you preferred."

  Shay pushed her hair behind her ears, revealing three tiny hoops in each ear lobe. "Iced tea if you have it."

  "Yes. I thought you might be an iced tea kind of woman." I filled a glass with ice and poured the tea.

  Her fingers were moving quickly over the text on the paper.

  "You're a fast reader." I set the tea down next to her.

  "I am. Turned out to be kind of a natural talent of mine, along with the whole striptease thing." She pointed to the last section of the contract, the section guaranteeing her a million dollars if I broke the contract and touched her intimately. Her brown eyes rounded as she looked up at me. "You weren't joking. You actually added the million dollar offer into the contract."

  "If there's one thing you'll learn quickly about me, when it comes to business, I never joke around."

  "I will make a mental note of that."

  I walked back to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. I was planning to give up both booze and women, but I decided to tackle my habits one at a time. But I was going to have to take it easy on the alcohol because it tended to make me forget any sense of reason, particularly when I was near an enticing woman. And Shay was definitely that.

  Shay's face moved closer to the contract as she read the last few lines. "If I touch you in an intimate way or a way that causes arousal, then the million dollar pay off is retracted?" Her mouth pursed in question at the last statement. "So, if I suddenly grab your penis and push it into my mouth, all bets are off?"

  I popped the top
off the beer. "I had to put some protections in there for me. I figured that million dollars was going to sound pretty sweet."

  "Oh, it sounds more than sweet. My entire life would change, and frankly, I could use a change. I've been on the wrong end of luck for most of my life. But this stipulation is kind of silly. Women don't go around groping genitals without permission. That's a man thing."

  "Oh really? Seems to me I've been groped without invitation more than once by one of your ex-coworkers at Fantasm."

  "That's because those women are struggling to pay their bills, and if you step into Fantasm that is technically an invitation to have your balls grabbed."

  I lifted my beer can in salute. "Touché." My ignorance was really coming back to slap me in the face. I'd anticipated having a seductive, sweet and vacuous woman milling around the house in enticing silk underwear, but Shay was anything but dull and empty-headed. I was going to have work hard just to stay in control of the situation, or she might very well walk off with a million bucks.

  Shay finished reading the document. "Looks good to me." She signed her name on the bottom, below my signature. I scooted over the non-disclosure form for her to sign next.

  "This just states that you won't ever tell anyone about this agreement."

  "That shouldn't be a problem. I don't know that many people, and I wouldn't have the slightest clue how to put this agreement into words." She scrawled her name on the line, set down the pen and sipped some more tea. "When do I start acting like a tempting piece of chocolate cake?"

  "You're already well past that. Hell, tempting should be your middle name. But we can move to the next level. There are a few different bikinis in the dresser in your room. Put one on and join me at the pool. It's heating up fast outside, and the pool is warm."

  "This is embarrassing since we live in California, but I can't swim."

  "Who said anything about swimming?"