Did she like it rough? Being that her experience was almost nonexistent, she didn’t know the answer. Except when her scalp tingled and his tongue licked the pulse point on her neck, which he then followed with a bite, she felt her panties get wet.
“Oh…,” she gasped, just as the bell at the door dinged.
“Travis? Is that you?” It was a woman’s voice, but from where she stood, Penny couldn’t see her. Travis instinctively shuffled Penny behind him.
“Get out, Dakota,” Travis practically roared. “Bar’s closed. You want a picture, call my agent tomorrow. Hell, call me. But right now get the hell out.”
“Five minutes of fame and already a prima donna.” The woman laughed, and then Penny heard the door ding again as she left.
“Who was that?”
“Dakota Nelson. The producer of Fight Night. They’re supposed to stay inside the Academy. You do know about the MMA docu-series I’m in, right?” He brought her back to him and leaned down to kiss her again, but she sidestepped him.
“A producer. Like for television?”
“Yep.”
Penny gently pushed him away, bent down, and grabbed the rag that had fallen. She had heard something about some filming happening nearby at the Academy, but she didn’t know much more than that. She couldn’t be filmed or photographed. Her family would find her. “Thank you for everything, Travis. I’m sorry for pushing myself on you. But I need you to go.”
“Wait. What?”
“That was a mistake.”
“Didn’t feel like a mistake.”
“I don’t date.”
“Me or anyone?”
“Anyone.”
“You can’t tell me that wasn’t great.”
“It was. It felt…” She took a deep breath and tried to rein in her emotions. “It was the best kiss of my life.”
“Ain’t that somethin’.” He grinned sexily.
“But it doesn’t matter. It can’t happen again. Please, I need you to go.”
“First tell me why you won’t go out with me. I’ve been asking you out for months, and now this kiss. There’s something here—you know it and I know it.”
“I can’t.” She stepped away, but he held her forearm.
“Talk to me. What could be so bad you’re crying in a bar by yourself? Why don’t you have friends? Why don’t you go out? What’s the mystery? What is it? Let me help.”
He was right. She didn’t have anything. She only had Sarabelle. The loneliness hit her again.
Her chin quivered. The strength she’d spent months trying to maintain crumbled suddenly and completely, leaving her feeling bare in front of this man she had such a visceral reaction to. “What do you want me to say, Travis? That you’re right? That I’m alone? That I don’t have anyone? That I have four hundred and thirty-two dollars in my bank account and that it’s not enough for rent? That I don’t have anywhere to go? That I feel guilty for even indulging in a kiss—for forgetting, even for a minute, my troubles?” She covered her face with her hands and let out a gut-wrenching sob. “That I’m scared?” She looked up at the ceiling and sobbed, “I’m so scared!” Covering her face, she hastily said, “I’m so sorry. This is so embarrassing.”
“Shit. Don’t cry, Penny.” Travis looked ill at ease. “What can I do? What do you need? Don’t cry, darlin’.”
There was only one thing she needed. Just one. “Can you…I just…I really need a hug.”
He snorted. “A hug? I can abso-fucking-lutely do that, sugar.” He opened his arms wide, and she walked into them. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, and held her. Her body shook, and he rubbed her back soothingly. “Let it out. Maybe you’ll feel better.” And she did.
She cried for far too long, but he didn’t pry, just gave her what she needed: a release for all the sorrow. The words he whispered could’ve seemed like meaningless platitudes from anyone else, but from him, they actually made her feel better. When the sobs became hiccups and sighs, he said at last, “You feelin’ better?”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“Ain’t even a thing, darlin’,” he said, wiping her cheeks with his thumbs. “Don’t know what it’ll take for you to let me in, but I want in, Penny.”
“I’m sorry, Travis.” She took a final breath. “I wish things were different, but you and I will never ever happen.”
“Say whatever you want. But you and I aren’t over, Penny. Not even fucking close.” Then he walked out of the Pier to tend to Dakota, who was still outside with a small camera crew.
Chapter 2
A few days later, Penny’s hand hovered over the ornate metal door handle at Ruby’s, the local strip club in Tarpon Springs, Florida. Actually, it was the only strip club in the small town. When she decided to run away from her privileged life in Oklahoma to raise her daughter far away from the judgment of her family, she never imagined most of the raising would be done by her friend JL, who watched Sarabelle while Penny ran back and forth between two exhausting jobs just trying to make ends meet.
Earlier in the day, while she was waitressing at EE’s Diner, Jeffrey, the owners’ smarmy son, had gotten a little handsy, and when Penny had made it clear that she didn’t appreciate his hand “accidentally” touching her butt, he’d gotten defensive and threatened to fire her. The fact that the threat of losing that crappy job scared her more than the creepy man touching her had made her realize it was time for a change.
A major one.
So she’d thrown her apron at him and walked out. But now she was freaking out because she needed that job. Really needed it. She still had her job at the Pier, but that wasn’t enough to support her and Sarabelle.
Penny felt herself sinking, and the more furiously she treaded water, the more tired her legs became and the closer she felt to drowning. She needed a lifesaver immediately or she would not survive, and that thought made her even more despondent. Fortunately, during her midday break at EE’s, she had seen a flyer about an opening for a bartender at Ruby’s that paid double what she made at EE’s.
The problem was that Ruby’s was a strip club, and even though she wouldn’t be stripping, the thought of working there, after her highly sheltered, highly religious, and highly judgmental upbringing, made her feel immoral.
Working at a strip club had never been the plan. In fact, it had been ingrained into her that things such as strip clubs, which created “lustful” thoughts, were sinful and that strippers were the devil, luring men to make poor choices. In the last two years she’d realized how much of her upbringing had been based on hypocrisy and how clueless she’d really been, having been raised in a little bubble of ignorance.
But even with all her eye-opening experiences, she still knew that she had been naive to think she could survive all on her own when she’d never lifted a single finger before her daughter was born. Heck, she’d never even washed clothes before Belle came along. She was in way over her head, and the fact that she was even entertaining the thought of working at Ruby’s was a clear indication of that.
Penny braced herself to see naked women gyrating in a seedy club as men groped them. She expected to see drugs being snorted on tabletops, shots of liquor being drunk off naked bodies, and sex to be had everywhere. The only man she’d ever seen naked was Lawrence, and that had been one time, and it had been fast and painful and had resulted in Belle. Regardless, Penny took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
Bam!
“Oh, shit!” a woman shrieked as red liquid poured down the front of Penny’s white oxford shirt. “You okay?”
Penny looked down at her wet and stained shirt, then looked up and saw a topless woman holding a tray with a knocked-over glass on it. The woman reached out and patted Penny’s chest with a napkin, apologizing over and over: “Sorry. Sorry.” Then she began wiping her own bare breasts.
Flustered and embarrassed, Penny stepped back.
“Hey, it’s cool. I’m sure it’ll come right out. Don’t think it’ll sta
in, do you?” Seemingly concerned, the woman reached out for Penny again, presumably to try wiping more of the liquid off her chest, but a mortified Penny held her hands out to stop her.
Looking around quickly, the place wasn’t at all what she’d imagined. It was dark but not seedy or smoky. There were groups of men having drinks in booths with leather banquettes, and there wasn’t so much a stage as various small stages with poles where women were dancing and chatting with the men who sat close by. The waitresses, such as the poor woman currently apologizing to her, were topless, but the bartenders at the big modern-looking bar a few feet away were dressed. Scantily, perhaps, but not nude—just as the ad for the job had said.
“Honey? You listening? Hello?” The woman snapped her fingers in an effort to get Penny’s attention. “Your shirt? You think the stain will come out?”
Penny shook her head to get her thoughts in order, then looked down at her shirt. “Uh…yeah, sure, it’s fine.” Penny took the napkin from the woman’s hand and patted her drenched shirt.
“You okay? You lost or somethin’?”
“Yeah…no. I mean…” She really didn’t belong in a place like this. She had on pearls, for goodness’ sake. Her oxford shirt was buttoned almost all the way up, she had on modern slim-cut black slacks—she was, after all, applying for a job—and the plaid headband on her head holding her brown hair away from her face definitely made her stand out. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she held out the flyer to the woman.
“Joe!” the woman yelled over her shoulder, then turned back to Penny. “You need to see Joe. Joe!” she yelled again.
A man, presumably Joe, walked toward Penny. He had a shaved head and tattoos that began at the knuckles and went up both arms, disappearing underneath his tight-fitting black T-shirt with the Ruby’s logo, and continuing up his neck. He had gauges in both ears, a pierced eyebrow, and a pierced lip. If he hadn’t also had a big, toothy, dimpled smile, she’d have turned around and run away.
“Did Darlene spill a drink on you?” he asked, shaking his head as if he was upset, except from the adoring look he gave the topless waitress, it was obvious he was more amused than anything else.
“In my defense, she stumbled right in and ran into me,” Darlene remarked, and Joe squinted at her disbelievingly. “Honest,” she added, holding up a hand and then turning to Penny. “Tell him.” Darlene gestured for Penny to speak.
“Oh…uh, yes. I ran right into her.” It was difficult to talk when there were women completely naked a few yards from where she stood and a topless waitress a foot away whose breasts jiggled every time she spoke and pointed.
“I’ll let it go this time,” Joe said with a wink to Darlene.
“This time? Honey, I haven’t gone one day in the last five years without screwing something up. But you love me anyway.” She kissed Joe’s cheek with a loud smack and walked away.
Joe tipped his head, indicating for Penny to follow him. He pulled a chair out for her, and Penny sat. Then he pulled up another chair for himself and sat down. “You asked for me?”
Penny showed him the flyer with the want ad. “I was hoping the job was still open. I’d like to apply, please.”
Joe cocked an eyebrow and leaned back to assess Penny. Immediately she reached for her pearls and began to fumble with them, the way she always did when she was nervous. “You don’t look like a stripper.”
Penny gasped and shook her head. “Stripper? Oh, no. Bartender. Says right here that no stripping is required. I have experience, about a year. I work down at the Pier. I…uh…”
“Relax, honey. What’s your name?”
“Penny. Well, Penelope Richards, but everyone calls me Penny.”
“Penny,” he repeated, then sat back and crossed his arms, scrutinizing her again. “No offense, honey, but you don’t look like you belong here. Shit, you look like you’re about to run away.”
Damn it! She needed this job. She rubbed her upper arms, feeling like she wanted to cry. She’d never cried much when she was younger, probably because she’d never had reason to. Everything had always been handed to her on a silver platter—literally. Her parents actually had their meals in a formal dining room and used silver serving platters and fine china. She felt a sob bubbling up in her chest. She held it back and sat up a little straighter instead. “I know I don’t look like I fit in, but I will. I can. I promise. I’m a very hard worker and committed to any job I take on. I don’t gossip, I mind my own business, and I get along great with everyone. I won’t lie—I’m not the best bartender. But I’m a fast learner.”
“Shh.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “You seem hard up for work and kind of desperate. Desperate people are always either the best employees or the worst. Someone gave me a chance one time, and I can do the same for you. But you have to do one favor for me.”
Her eyes opened wide and she held her breath.
“Relax,” he admonished. When she drew her eyebrows together in confusion, he went on, “Relax. That’s the favor I need from you. You’re really wound up tight, honey.” He squeezed her shoulder and smiled. He had a wonderful smile. It made her immediately feel at ease. “How soon can you start?”
“As soon as possible,” she said.
Joe gave her a tentative work schedule and her hourly rate and an approximation of the tips the bartenders normally received. Instead of working six days a week, she could cut back to one day at the Pier and four days at Ruby’s. “Do me a solid, though. If you’re going to quit the Pier, give Patsy enough time to find a replacement, yeah? Patsy’s good people. Wouldn’t want to leave her in a bind.”
“No problem.”
“Come on back with me. I’ll give you your uniform, have you fill out some paperwork, and show you around.” Joe led her to the back, where she passed by more girls dancing and a group of men drinking and flirting with a stripper who was giving one of the men a lap dance. Then he led her to what he called the “girls’ changing room,” which was lined with different outfits. Along one wall were mirrors, a long table, and a lot of makeup, hair products, blow dryers, and flat irons.
Toward the back of that room were lockers and a closet. He opened one and handed her some shorts, much like the ones she wore at the Pier, and a very formfitting black top with a plunging neckline and Ruby’s logo across the back. “Here you go. That’s your uniform, and here’s a T-shirt so you don’t have to go home all sticky and wet.”
Her eyes widened and her face immediately reddened. He snorted out a laugh. “What was the first and only rule?”
“Relax?” It was meant to come out assertively but sounded like more of a question.
“Yes, relax. Lighten up. I was talking about your wet shirt. By the color, I assume it was some sort of fruity drink. You’re probably all sticky.”
She glanced down at her blouse. “Oh.” She took the T-shirt and looked back at him. “Thank you.”
“I think you may have a dirty little mind there, honey,” he chuckled. Then he handed her some papers and walked out to give her a chance to change into the shirt. “See you soon. Make sure you bring all those filled out. Give me a ring when you’re ready to start.”
A few minutes later, with a handful of uniforms and a whole lot of relief, she walked out of the changing room and toward the front door.
“Oh, you got the job!” Darlene exclaimed when she saw the uniforms in Penny’s hand.
“I did.”
“Great! See you soon.” Darlene strutted away looking perky and happy.
It amazed Penny how comfortable Darlene was with her body. And Penny couldn’t take her eyes off the women dancing there. Beautiful women, in all shapes, sizes, and skin colors. Penny began to head toward the door, still looking over her shoulder in awe of everything she was seeing, when—
Bam!
“Motherfuck—”
“Sorry!” she shrieked as another drink spilled on her. I haven’t even started yet, she thought, and I’m probably going to get fired soon.
/> The man she’d bumped into looked somewhat familiar. “I am so sorry,” she told him. “I wasn’t looking where I was walking and—”
“Penny?” At the sound of her name she glanced over the man’s shoulder to see a very familiar Texan whom she’d been purposely avoiding. Her lips still tingled from his kiss. Not to mention the hug that she’d needed so badly. Sometimes the empathy of another human being was enough to get you through those tough days, and he’d given that to her without judgment. But that didn’t mean that she still wasn’t embarrassed by her emotional breakdown—not that he’d done anything to make her feel ashamed.
“You’re that cute little bartender from the Pier, aren’t you?” said the man who was wiping his shirt.
“Yes. Well, I don’t know about the cute part, but the part about me working at the Pier…” Why did she have to be so awkward? She exhaled loudly and continued. “You’re Iggy, right?” she said with an apologetic smile.
“Yep. And you know Trav—” He started to point to his friend, but Travis cut him off.
“She knows who I am.” A firm hand gripped her forearm and pulled her toward him. Goodness, Travis was handsome, in a rugged sort of way. In a way that made her nervous. In a way that reminded her of home.
The native Texan had curly blond hair that he usually tucked into a worn-out cowboy hat. Today he wore cowboy boots and a black long-sleeved button-down shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and defined abs. But it was his eyes that drew her to him. They were clear blue and always seemed sincere and serene. Except right now. Right now they looked…mad? Suddenly she had a memory: the night of the kiss, when she had inadvertently pressed her body against his, his eyes had gone a shade of blue-gray that made him look predatory.
Normally it both irked and intrigued her that Travis always seemed not to have a care in the world. She envied his lackadaisical personality, mostly because it reminded her of herself just shy of two years ago, before she’d gotten pregnant. Because she’d grown up in a house with a preacher for a stepfather, she knew envy was something that shouldn’t sit in her heart, but that’s exactly what she felt. Travis seemed to have no problems at all, and here she was, feeling suffocated by the weight of all her problems.
Stacked Up: Worth the Fight Series Page 2