He wrinkled his nose and sipped his drink but didn't move his hand from under mine. "I don't really have the luxury of waiting around indefinitely for another shot here. I'll probably have a few more drinks and then go try my luck at Dick's."
I cringed. Hard. "Please don't."
Swinging Dick's was exactly what it sounded like: a seedy, disgusting, low-rate male strip club that horrifically exploited their dancers and ran a completely unsafe, unsupervised brothel in the basement. It was the type of business that was a carryover from the old Shadow Grove, and one that badly needed to be shut down.
"Trust me," he replied in a bitter laugh, "it's the last thing I want to do. But I’m confident the tips for dancing—and extras—will pay better than any other jobs I can get on short notice and I need the money. Badly. As of this morning only two clubs in town were hiring, and 7th Circle apparently no longer is. So… I'm fast running out of options."
Questions burned on the tip of my tongue, but they were questions I had no right asking this total stranger. Shit like, what had put him in such a desperate position that he'd even consider Dick's? Or why the hell hasn't he already made a fortune modeling or acting or something less nefarious?
"You know, this place isn't all it seems," I told him slowly, watching him carefully for a reaction. When he spoke about the money 7th Circle dancers got, did he actually mean the dancers? Or was he talking about the "dancers" who only stripped as an advertisement for a darker, less legal menu behind the closed curtains of the VIP booths?
He arched a half smile at me. "I know." His hand turned over under mine so we were palm to palm, and his thumb traced a slow circle on my skin.
I pursed my lips, mulling that over. Maybe that was why the manager had sent him away without an interview. He had a total "good boy" vibe about him, despite looking like sex in jeans, an air of innocence that would be totally destroyed in the shadows of 7th Circle.
I hated to admit it, but I was glad he hadn't been hired. On the other hand, I also didn't want him to end up in the filthy, cum-stained underground of Swinging Dick's.
"Well..." I was being selfish. I was being totally selfish. But with the way my blood stirred at his touch, I knew he would be exactly what I needed to get over my embarrassing blunder from earlier, just a hot, nameless fuck to clear him from my mind and help me find my own steel-coated lady balls once more.
I was a force to be reckoned with, and that rejection had knocked me around. But this guy... this guy could help me fix it.
Maybe in return, I could find him a job. One that didn't involve actual sex for money.
"Well?" he prompted, and I realized I'd trailed off as my thoughts ran wild.
I bit my lip, debating how I could make tonight swing in my favor without sounding like a total slutty whore. But really, all I could focus on was getting impaled on his cock, which I was pretty sure wouldn't disappoint.
"How about you just have fun tonight, and if you still want to try Dick's tomorrow... well, deal with that then. But you look like you need to just cut loose for a bit."
He looked tempted but undecided, like he'd already resigned himself to his fate and was just working up the courage to go through with it. God knew why—I certainly wasn't known for my compassion or empathy—but I badly didn't want to see this gorgeous guy throw his life away at Dick's. Even if that meant breaking all my own rules.
"Look, I know some people," I offered, remaining vague. "I can probably get you a job that pays twice as much as Dick's ever would with considerably fewer sexual assaults and STDs."
His brow creased in suspicion. "What sort of job?"
I snorted a laugh. "Seriously, does it matter? You were about to quite literally sell your body." Then something occurred to me that put a damper on my mood. Maybe this gorgeous guy wasn't even into chicks.
But then, the way his fingers linked with mine as he pulled our hands from the bar top to rest in his lap told me that wasn't necessarily true.
"Fair point," he conceded with a grimace. "So, I guess I should be asking what you want in return."
My mood instantly soured, and I tugged my hand free of his grip. "Okay, this was a bad idea." I finished my drink and placed the glass back down just a touch harder than necessary. "Forget I offered."
Because I didn't fuck my employees. Ever. And if I gave this guy a job—out of some weird, passing sense of pity and compassion—then fucked him in the bathroom? Yeah, that'd make me a total sleaze.
Thank fuck I'd come to my senses before that happened.
I slid off my stool and started walking away from a potentially terrible decision. No matter how hot I found that random guy, it wasn't worth the headache later.
"Wait," he called out, hurrying after me and snagging my wrist before I could step out of the bar area and onto the dance floor. It was the quickest way out of 7th Circle, and I was officially ready to call my shitty night done.
I glanced down at his hand on my wrist, but he wasn't gripping me tight enough to hurt. It was just a gesture, not a demand. I gave a small headshake to the huge bouncer across the room who was scowling at my new friend like he wanted to toss his ass out on the curb.
"I'm sorry," the pretty guy apologized when I didn't yank my arm away and leave. Instead, I turned back to face him and tipped my head to look up at him. He was bigger than I'd first thought... and that only made me more attracted to him. Damn it.
"It's fine," I lied. "It was a terrible idea. Sorry. But good luck with your job search."
I tried to leave again, but his fingers tightened on my wrist, and a spark of renewed interest shot through me. Maybe he wasn't as innocent as I was writing him off as.
"No, it's not. That was totally rude and presumptuous of me," he pressed on, tugging at my arm to turn me around once more. "I only meant, I'd be crazy grateful for any help in getting a job that doesn't require me to book weekly STD checkups." He cringed at that, and I couldn't bite back my smile.
Goddamn it. Why did I want to help this guy so much? I never usually gave two shits about anyone outside my inner circle. I'd lost all faith in humanity a long time ago and generally treated anyone and everyone with a clear fuck you attitude. It kept me alive, and it kept me in business.
"How old are you?" I asked him on a whim. Based solely on his looks, I might have placed him anywhere under twenty-eight. But there was just something about him that gave off a younger vibe.
He frowned slightly. "Twenty-one."
So maybe that was why. He didn't seem to have any obvious ink, so he probably wasn't mixed up with the Shadow Grove gangs. He probably had no idea what he was getting into.
"Look, I didn't mean to insult you," he continued like I hadn't just deviated off subject. "Can we pretend that never happened? You don't need to help me with a job, and we can just hang out tonight.”
Suspicion pricked at my senses. “Why?”
He shrugged and gave me a shy grin. “Because you’re easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and I would never forgive myself if I fucked up this opportunity."
"What opportunity?" I replied, frowning. Maybe I'd totally read this guy wrong. There was a reason I never picked up random strangers in bars.