Tiny Dancer [Divine Creek Ranch 13] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Heather Rainier

  “You’re so much fun to play with, Quinten. I want to play more again sometime soon.”

  Quinten looked like he was in hog heaven as she snuggled against his chest, and he slid his arms around her. He groaned blissfully and murmured, “Me too, baby.” He made a show of biting his lip since only Ben could see.

  He groaned softly as he squeezed her and she turned her face to his throat, smooched him there, and then let out a long, happy purr. “Why do I have to work for the two hottest guys in town?”

  Quinten looked like he never wanted to let go. After a few seconds he grinned and softly said, “Baby? Camilla?” He glanced at Ben. “She conked out.”

  Ben shook his head as he stiffly rose from the couch, mindful of the hard-on from hell that was going nowhere. “Let’s put Sleeping Beauty to bed then.” Alone. Damn it. He was going to be one cranky son of a bitch come morning.

  He would’ve liked the opportunity to get more answers from her before they’d gone to sleep. He’d also wanted to plead privately with her about not wearing the costumes anymore. In a way, he was glad the topic hadn’t come up though because it would’ve broken the mood. Recalling the way she’d climbed into his lap, and then willingly sought Quinten’s attention answered at least one question.

  Quinten rose from the couch, lifting her with him. “She thinks we’re hot.”

  * * * *

  Camilla woke up the next morning with a bit of a headache and a fuzzy mouth. She opened her eyes to find that she was facedown on the bed, under the covers. Recalling that Ben and Quinten had come over the night before, she yanked back the covers and sighed in relief to find herself still in the genie costume. On the heels of relief, though, came a little hint of disappointment and she wasn’t exactly sure why. Had she fallen asleep? She didn’t remember saying good night and going to bed.

  She squinted at the alarm clock and saw that the time read ten o’clock. With a groan she sat up. The morning was already half gone and she still needed to see about her car. She listened to the house but found it completely still and quiet. Traipsing into the kitchen, she smiled when she saw a mug and a note on the kitchen counter by the coffeepot which was turned on and hot.

  Camster,

  You were still out cold when we got up this morning so we took care of your car for you. Call us if you need anything. We’ll be back with your car as soon as the work is done. Hope you’re not too hungover. My head is pounding.

  -Quinten

  PS…you’re kinda pretty when you’re sleeping…even when you’re snoring. Ben is Mr. Cranky-pants this morning.

  She chuckled as she fixed herself a cup of coffee and started the shower in the bathroom. Once she’d taken a couple of Tylenol, bathed, and brushed her teeth, she felt considerably better. She walked naked down the hallway, stretching her arms over her head as she made her way to her room. She glanced into the living room and squeaked when she realized Ben and Quinten were standing there, gawking.

  Quinten’s eyes were zeroed in on her bare, waxed pussy and his jaw was hanging slack. Ben’s eyes were doing a pea-in-the-whistle routine, consuming her from knees to knockers. She turned sideways and put a forearm across her breasts as she continued down the hallway, calling, “I’ll be right out, guys, as soon as I’m dressed.” Her words were met with utter silence. She didn’t know whether to laugh or blush. She wound up doing both.

  Both men were fixing fresh mugs of coffee when she came into the kitchen a little later, dressed, with her hair dried and light makeup put on. She didn’t like to be seen when she wasn’t put together. She didn’t think the two men had noticed anything above chest level anyway.

  “Sorry about the peep show, guys.”

  “I’m not,” Quinten began to say but seemed to quell his enthusiasm when Ben looked at him. Ben’s dark eyes were unreadable as he turned them on her.

  “We’re the ones who should apologize, Camilla. We should’ve knocked and waited instead of coming right in.”

  He was back to calling her Camilla. No sugar now that it was a new day. Shouldn’t have got your hopes up, girl. He’d just been trying to make her feel better the day before. She glanced at Quinten and then eyed Ben carefully. Quinten must’ve been telling the truth. He did seem cranky that morning.

  Ben held out her keys to her as she poured another cup of coffee. “We have a delivery coming in a little while so we’ll get out of your hair.”

  “How much did the tires cost?”

  “Don’t worry about it. We talked to Ethan this morning about installing another camera in the front parking lot. We’d been meaning to do it for a little while. What happened just pointed out the fact that it was needed. I covered the cost for you.”

  “Nonsense. I can pay you back.”

  “No. Keep the money in your savings.”

  She sighed and looked to Quinten for help but he just smiled and shrugged. He wasn’t going to tell her how much they cost either.

  “Thank you.” It was all she could say. For now. She’d call Torvel’s later and ask them how much the tires had cost and pay him back anyway.

  She gave them both hugs. “Thank you also for watching over me last night, although I think it was totally unnecessary. But strip poker was fun…I think.” The memory was still a little hazy.

  Quinten snorted in amusement. “It was definitely fun, Camster.”

  She reached to tickle his ribs. He knew she couldn’t stand that silly nickname but he just laughed and sidestepped her as they headed for the front door.

  Ben turned to look back at her, a faint smile on his face. There was something else in his eyes as he looked closely at her. “See you tonight?”

  “With bells on!” she replied with a smile.

  Ben groaned pitifully. “Hell, I hope not real bells. Those costumes are—”

  Quinten shoved him out the door and smiled back at her. “No bells. How about going as a cowgirl? Denim. Jeans. Covers all the girlie bits up. A T-shirt, no—a turtleneck! It’s supposed to be”—she closed the door in his face while she giggled—“chilly tonight!” he called through the glass window in the door then smiled and waved. He turned to Ben as he walked out to his truck and yelled, “Hey, wait up, Mr. Cranky-pants! I need a ride back to the club for my truck!”

  She leaned against the door and smiled. Her heart fluttered as she recalled perching in Ben’s lap, giving him a taste of what a lap dance was like. What had she been thinking when she’d done that?

  I was thinking that I wanted to get closer.

  Chapter Four

  Camilla adjusted the feather in her rawhide headband as Grace Warner and one of her husbands, Adam Davis, sat at the bar.

  Grace took a sip of her sangria and asked, “What are you wearing to the Halloween costume contest next weekend?”

  “It’s a surprise,” Camilla replied. “I don’t want to reveal it too soon.” Plus, it’s going to take some cooperation from Mr. Grumpy and Mr. Cranky, so I don’t want to announce it until I have full participation.

  Gazing around the bar, she caught Quinten eyeing her short-shorts again. He had that “alpha male” look in his eyes once more. Gone was the naughty tease from the previous evening who’d lost all but his underwear and socks to her playing strip poker. Her pussy quivered at what might’ve happened if she’d won those sexy, snug boxers she’d gotten a glimpse of as he’d shucked his jeans the night before.

  “I understand.” Grace leaned against Adam and said, “I’m trying to talk the guys into going as the three bears to my Goldilocks.”

  Adam chuckled and added his two cents. “It’s not me you have to convince, baby. I’d do it for you, but even in late October, it’s a little warm to be walking around in a full bear costume.”

  Grace scoffed. “Oh, really? It has nothing whatsoever to do with you three arguing about who gets to be Mama Bear and Baby Bear?”

  Adam sucked in his lower lip. “I’m not saying anything else. We could decide that one with an arm wrestling contest.” He took a sip o
f his beer as he flexed a bicep and smiled at Camilla when she laughed along with Grace.

  Camilla said, “Where’s it written that you can’t all three be Daddy Bears?”

  Grace said, “Thank you, Camilla. See?” Turning to Adam, she said, “I could care less if we go by the book. I want three big burly bears.”

  Adam looked into Grace’s eyes and said nothing, but the indulgence Camilla saw there told her that Grace would get her way. Grace nuzzled his ear before she rose from her chair and said to Camilla, “So you’ll be over tonight?”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m positive. I don’t want you sleeping in a house with a leaky roof, especially with more storms in the forecast this weekend. Besides, I want to interview you for a character I’m considering writing. Did you pack a bag?”

  “Yes, it’s in my trunk. It’ll be late tonight when I get there.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be up. With Rose Marie to take care of, I’ve found that a lot of my writing gets done late at night. I also wanted to talk to you some more about offering that little extracurricular activity at The Pony on a weekday afternoon.” Grace winked at her, and Camilla chuckled.

  Grace had asked her earlier that afternoon if she’d be interested in offering striptease lessons on the big dance floor before the club opened. They hadn’t approached Ethan and Ben with the idea yet. Camilla had a feeling that Ben might get a little pissy about it if she asked him right then.

  Neither Ben nor Quinten had said anything about it, but she knew that neither of them favored her outfit for that night—Indian princess in skimpy tan short-shorts, a matching bra top edged with long fringe, and her headband, with her standard cowgirl boots.

  “I’ll see you when I get there. Bye, Adam.”

  Camilla watched as the couple made their exit, Adam’s arm wrapped around Grace’s shoulders. For a second she wondered what it must be like, being loved by three men. Heat simmered through her body as she imagined being bookended by two men who adored her. She remembered how nice it had felt being between Ben and Quinten the night before, even though nothing had happened, beyond her giving them an idea what a lap dance from her would be like. Her cheeks warmed as she recalled wishing that she could actually take her clothes off for them. Then the tequila had hit her and she’d gotten so sleepy. She hadn’t given it a second thought as she’d cuddled up with Quinten and drifted off. They both felt so safe to her the night before.

  But ever since she’d arrived for work that evening, she’d been catching them eyeing her more frequently, and watching the male customers she was serving from behind the bar like they were a pack of ravening wolves. Ben and Quinten had always been protective but never so grouchy.

  She’d caught them watching her so many times it was giving her the jitters. But that’s not because you like them watching you, is it? She’d never felt as jumpy walking half naked through the Dollhouse as she did working under their watchful eyes.

  Another wave of heat sizzled up her spine, and she turned her head in time to catch Quinten staring at her. A year ago, if she’d caught him looking at her, he’d make some sort of goofy face or do his trademark “you and me” gesture, signaling that with the end of a busy night they’d share a shot together. Tonight, his riveting blue eyes didn’t flit away but instead held her gaze.

  Tom Barton got her attention from where he sat talking with Bill Duggan and held up two fingers, signaling that he wanted a double bourbon. She nodded and turned to the mirrored wall where all the bottles were displayed and reached for the top-shelf bourbon.

  A tingle went up her spine when Quinten scooted behind her, brushing against her ass. He stopped to reach for the bottle she needed and the full length of his torso brushed against her side. Her mouth watered as she got a whiff of his manly scent, a mix of soap, spicy bodywash, and manly musk.

  She remembered kissing his throat the night before and the memory caused heat to creep through her body, centering in her pussy. She was on a slippery slope if she kept reacting to him like that. He handed her the bottle of bourbon and she noticed he seemed tense. He glanced at her short-shorts and opened the cash register drawer. She was beginning to feel a little pissy herself. If he had something to say, she wished he’d just spit it out. She glanced in the mirror before she turned and caught Bill admiring her ass.

  He was one of her sweet regulars and made a habit of teasing her but never made passes or propositioned her like some assholes did, especially if they knew she’d worked as an exotic dancer. For some idiots that equated to her being a whore. That was their problem, but she felt she would’ve been a hypocrite if she let every little comment offend her. As long as they kept their hands to themselves, she didn’t let it bother her.

  Sitting next to Tom, Bill Duggan sighed, rested his chin in his hand as he braced his elbows on the bar, and appreciatively said, “If I was thirty years younger I’d give you a run for your money, sweet cheeks.”

  She giggled as she poured two shots of amber-colored twelve-year-old bourbon into a rocks glass and placed it on a paper napkin in front of Tom. “If you were thirty years younger I might let you, Bill.”

  Tom handed her folded bills and waved his hand discreetly. “You keep that, shortcake.”

  She smiled her thanks and dropped the money in the tip jar by the cash register located at the center of the long curving bar.

  Quinten growled from where he stood in front of the register.

  Camilla leaned against his upper arm with her shoulder. “What is the matter?” She spoke so only he could hear her. She didn’t want a confrontation. She just wanted to know if she was responsible for the burr up his butt that evening.

  Ben suddenly appeared on his other side, evidently waiting for the cash Quinten was removing to add to his deposit. Quinten’s lips were in a flat line as he glanced at her and growled softly again. “Pisses me off knowing that men have their eyes all over your ass all night. That outfit is indecent.”

  Camilla wanted to grind her teeth together. “You’re right.”

  Quinten turned his head to look her straight in the eye. He seemed surprised. “What?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Yes, caveman. You’re right about one thing. It’s my ass. Mine. Not yours. And if I want to wear outfits—ohh! Why do I bother? It’s time for my break. I’ll show you indecent.”

  She growled back at him again and heard Ben say, “Nice going,” as she trudged to the end of the bar. Relief flooded her when she saw Rachel Wolf and Summer Webster also heading toward the dance floor as “Take a Little Ride” by Jason Aldean began to play over the sound system.

  Perfect. Serves him right.

  Dancing by herself would look too much like a tantrum. Rachel and Summer both grinned when she and Lydia Carlisle joined them to dance together.

  She was so pissed at Quinten’s proprietary air that she didn’t care if it lacked nobility when she pulled out her best grinding moves, not worried about how much attention she drew on the dance floor. On her way up out of a shimmy, she felt a stinging pop land on her ass cheek and couldn’t help the giggle that erupted from her. On the heels of her glee came the realization that she welcomed the sting but wished it had come from someone she knew cared about her…like Quinten obviously did. And Ben.

  Her enjoyment of her break was much more subdued as the song ended.

  She caught her breath as she returned to the bar, having burned off at least a little of her frustration. She smiled when she saw Cody, Heath, and Spencer walk through the door and nod at Mike and Rogelio. With a few minutes on her break to spare, she went to them and gave them all big hugs.

  It made her happy to reconnect with them because she’d missed them after she’d left the Dollhouse. They were so protective of the dancers, and it had endeared them to all the girls, several of whom had been more than happy to show their appreciation.

  Cody and Spencer had been the ones to rescue her when a drunken customer had pulled her off the stage and into his lap w
hile she was dancing. They’d extricated her from his clutches, roughed him up a bit, and thrown him out of the club. Their protectiveness had earned them a special place in her heart as they’d encouraged her to get back on the stage and not let the actions of one asshole affect her ability to earn a living. She’d gotten back up there and finished her shift.

  Heath and Cody had invited her out, for the three of them, but she’d already seen the way the other dancers showered them with attention and hadn’t wanted to “go there” with them because of the risk to her heart. When she was with a man, he was hers. She couldn’t expect that from them, even if it had been a nice fantasy.

  By the time they’d gone to work there, she’d already learned her lesson with Tyler Anderson, the former assistant manager at the Dollhouse. It wasn’t a good idea to date people she worked with. Especially if they turned out to be crooks responsible for embezzlement.

  While she’d known they were honest men, she’d valued Cody, Heath, and Spencer’s friendship too much.

  Gesturing to them to come close, she said, “If you’re here to relax, you can come sit at the bar, but there’s a table of single girls over there, if you want to dance and have a good time.” She pointed secretively behind her hand to a table full of women who were ogling her three friends.

  A devilish gleam sparkled in Heath’s eyes as he hugged her briefly and then sauntered with denim-clad sexiness over to the vacant table next to the ladies and flirted with Corinna when she approached. The girls at the neighboring table didn’t stand a chance with that big playful bear in their vicinity. Cody kissed the top of Camilla’s head and then made a beeline for the table. Spencer caressed her cheek with a knuckle and gave her a smile before following Cody. Those golden eyes of his would have all the single girls going ga-ga and falling at his feet in minutes. All three had understood her personal rule about relationships and hadn’t pressed her further. Their affection always filled her with warmth.