Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Several people laugh and someone does a dramatic “oooh”.
“Was this your idea?” Vaughn asks Jameson. “Strippers? Really? At a work party?”
“Our bad boy goes by the name Vaughn Vanderlesh. Come out, come out, wherever you are, Vaughnie boy! You paid top dollar for our time, baby. No point hiding now!”
The people around us start moving away and pointing. Aubrey is tilting her head at Vaughn, our confrontation already forgotten as the attention of the entire room is turning toward her boyfriend.
I take a few steps back with Jameson so Vaughn and Aubrey are now at the center of a growing crowd. The crowd parts ways for the stripper parade to dance its way toward him. They punch through into the open center where Aubrey has abandoned Vaughn to stand all by himself in his silly little devil “costume.”
“There he is,” the police stripper says. He pulls out a floppy baton that I realize is actually a big, thin dildo. He holds it over one shoulder and purses his lips. “Boys? Get him!”
“What the hell is this?” Vaughn asks.
“Don’t play stupid, Vaughnie boy. You gave us very specific instructions. You paid for a dirty lap dance, and you’re getting what you paid for.”
Jameson looks down at me, and I can’t help laughing, because his eyes are practically glistening like he’s falling in love with me for this.
I give his arm a squeeze, leaning in and smiling. It really is beautiful watching the way Vaughn is squirming and trying to argue as someone pulls up a chair and sits him down.
The cowboy stripper starts tying Vaughn up while the tiger and pro wrestler stripper holds him still.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” Vaughn snaps. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“We know exactly who you are,” the officer says, leaning in close. “You’re a bad, bad boy, aren’t you, Sweetheart?” He punctuates his question by violently pulling his vest off, then tossing it to the ground. He points the dildo stick at Vaughn, then aggressively flips around, bending over at the waist with an impressive show of flexibility.
Vaughn tries to look away, but the pro wrestler stripper holds his head from behind, making him look at the officer’s ass. Technically they are touching him, but at least the touching isn’t sexual. He could also close his eyes, but he’s keeping them wide, whether out of defiance or fascination, I can’t say.
Everybody is laughing and clapping. The strippers all start prancing around, dancing and taking turns doing elaborate moves in front of Vaughn, who looks absolutely livid.
The madness goes on for a solid minute or two before Griffon Vanderlesh storms through the crowd, takes one look at the strippers, his son, and then Nolan. He inserts himself into the mix, shoving the men away from his son. “This is over the line, Gray.” He points an accusatory finger at Nolan as everybody backs up a half step.
Nolan holds up his hands. “Don’t point at me. Your son apparently hired them.”
“Bullshit,” Vaughn shouts as his father unties him. He gets up, moving to jab a finger into Nolan’s chest. “This just proves all the those posters were you assholes all along.”
Jameson leaves my side and pushes Vaughn away from Nolan. “Get your finger off him,” he warns. “And be careful about the accusations you throw around.”
“Be careful who you fuck with,” Griffon counters.
The police officer sticks his face in the middle of the confrontation. “Sorry if this is a bad time, but our customers usually tip. We take Venmo or Cashapp. I’ll just leave my card.” He sticks a card in the breast pocket of Vaughn’s jacket and gives it a pat, then winks.
The four strippers stroll off to the bar and a small group of women follow after them.
The crowd is dispersing, but Nolan is still squared off with Griffon and Jameson is facing Vaughn. Both men look like they might come to blows at any moment. I don’t want them to fight.
I hurry to Jameson and take his arm. “Come on. Vaughn probably needs to walk off his erection after that.”
Vaughn’s eyes blaze with sudden rage. “What did you just say?”
Okay, maybe that wasn’t my best attempt at diffusing a fight.
Jameson steps between us this time. He let me have my chance to put Vaughn in his place before the strippers. I can see now how hard he must’ve been holding back. I’ve never seen Jameson look so mad. “Give me an excuse,” he says. He’s speaking in a completely normal, but quiet voice. Jameson’s body language says he’s ready to hit Vaughn, but his voice is calm. The contrast is chilling, and Vaughn must feel it too.
He lowers his eyes immediately and shakes his head. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Give the big oaf an excuse to solve things with his fists.”
Jameson’s voice is still low and dangerous. “I don’t usually, but I’ll make an exception for you. Happily.”