Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry, I—”
“You’re hidin’ somethin’ an’ I don’t wanna be a part of that shit. Get your clothes on an’ get out.”
Emma sat in her car in the empty parking lot. She could barely read the large sign she was parked next to, the tears in her eyes making her surroundings blurry. Heaven’s Angels Gentlemen’s Club.
This was what she’d been reduced to. Throwing herself at some big, tattooed biker and begging him to let her strip, for Christ’s sake.
Strip. Her. Emma Jackson. Kindergarten teacher.
She was so desperate for money, she was willing to take her clothes off on a stage and let men toss dollar bills at her. To take strange men into a private room and touch them.
She dropped her head down until her forehead pressed against the steering wheel. She didn’t know what else to do. She had no one to go to.
She only needed to do it long enough to get the money together for a retainer. Problem was, she needed to get the best. And she couldn’t afford the best.
Hell, she couldn’t afford the worst, either.
A kindergarten teacher’s salary was crap. She lived paycheck to paycheck as it was, even living modestly. She never splurged on anything for herself. Not anymore.
She ran her fingers over her second-hand skirt. She couldn’t even afford to buy new clothes. She was forced to shop at consignment shops just to get a decent wardrobe for work.
And now she didn’t even have that job.
She grabbed the plastic hair clip in her lap and, gathering her hair in her hands, she twisted it into a knot and secured it to the back of her head.
She couldn’t give up. She could never give up. She would do whatever she needed to do, or she would die first.
Because if she was forced to live life without her daughter she might as well be dead.
Dawg squeezed his eyes shut as hard as his fist squeezed his dick. Even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t get the picture of Emma out of his head. Her image was burned into the back of his eyelids.
How could a woman who dressed so damn awful turn him the fuck on so much?
It wasn’t just her voice. Even under those Plain Jane clothes, it was the way she carried herself, even when she’d been nervous. The way she faced her fears head-on. The way she was determined to get him to hire her.
But no fucking way was that happening. First of all, she sucked at dancing. Second, even if she was good at it, he wasn’t sure if he could sit there night after night and watch her shake her tits at other men.
He tilted his head back on his pillow and imagined what those tits would have looked like if he’d let her continue to remove that surprisingly sexy bra. Perfect ivory skin, pink hard-tipped nipples. Fuck, he wanted to bury his face in between them. Or his dick. Whatever.
He opened his eyes, spit on his palm and then went back to his fantasy. His hips lifted off the bed with each downward stroke, then dropped back to the mattress on the upstroke.
“Fuck!” he bellowed to the ceiling. His palm sucked. It was nothing like the real thing.
He needed some warm, tight, wet pussy hugging his dick, riding him hard. Tits bouncing and slapping together as she rode him like he was a wild pony. She. No, not just any she.
Emma.
It wasn’t even a sexy name. It matched her kindergarten teacher job.
She’d only be a fantasy. Only be jerk-off material. Because a woman like her didn’t do bikers like him.
He’d learned that lesson the hard way. Never again. That’s why he liked it the easy way now.
He wasn’t looking for another headache. He had enough headaches keeping his girls in line. He didn’t need another one.
Even if she had sweet tits, a bangin’ body, and hair he wanted to wrap around his fist when she was on her knees...
Fuck. Like when she was on her knees begging him for a job.
“For fuck’s sake!” he bellowed again and sat up, giving up on jerking off.
The woman needed help, and he wanted to know why. How could an innocent-looking teacher be so damn desperate? What the fuck did she do to get herself in a jam like that?
Maybe innocent Emma wasn’t so innocent after all. Maybe she was a dirty girl...
He frowned. What the fuck?
He sighed. He needed to get laid. Dropping his legs over the edge of the bed, he glanced at the clock radio on his nightstand. Ten-thirty. Moose should be downstairs by now to unlock the back door for the daylight girls to come in and get ready for an eleven AM opening.
He scratched his balls and yawned. He needed more sleep. He’d probably be up until after closing and Emma’s little audition early this morning had cut into that time.