Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)(18)

Lame. Super, super, lame. That’s the kinda stuff ten-year-old boys say to ten-year-old girls when they’re being tiny idiots.

“Nice try. We need to go or I’m hauling your ass in the back seat.”

“Can you try to be professional?” I snapped, stalking around the car. The noise of the Strip carried over, punctuated by the booming music from the building he owned, which was right next to us, but we could talk perfectly clearly. “We have to work together, and I’m not interested in your innuendos.”

“Promises.”

“What?”

“They’re not innuendos. They’re promises.”

“Again!” I stopped and put my hands on my hips. “This isn’t professional, West.”

He stopped too and turned back to me. “West. That’s the first time you’ve called me anything but Mr. Rykman since you got here.”

“I got here yesterday and saw you for the first time not twelve hours ago!”

“And look how frustrated you are.”

Frustrated was an understatement. I was getting downright pissed off with him and his attitude. Fucking hell, why did I always put myself in stupid situations? I should have just agreed to do the research alone.

“I think it’s best if I do this alone,” I said slowly. “Clearly, this isn’t a good idea. I won’t be able to concentrate if you’re driving me to insanity.”

His eyebrow arched, tugging his lips up with it. “A young woman going to various male strip clubs in the middle of Las Vegas all alone? Shit, Mia. Why didn’t I think that was a good idea?”

“I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“And all it takes is one person who’s better at taking care of you than you are yourself. You’re not doing this alone—and we’re not f*cking arguing about it. I promise to be professional from now on.”

I stared at him, annoyance still swirling low in my stomach, but he looked sincere, and he was right. I couldn’t go flouncing around male strip clubs alone. That was asking for trouble, and knowing me, I’d attract it.

“Fine,” I half huffed out and walked once more. “But let’s get this straight so there are no suspicions about your presence in these clubs. You’re a friend of my brother. He’s getting married, I’m the maid of honor, and I’m here to find venues for the bachelorette party.”

“Nice. And when they ask why you’re not going to Rock Solid?”

I sank my teeth into my lower lip as I thought about it. Crap. Why hadn’t I thought about that?

“Mia, please stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Thank you.” He rolled a shoulder. “Well?”

I let the unanswered question go. “My brother is uncomfortable with the idea of it, so you’re showing me the other hot joints in town.”

He chuckled low and wrapped his arm around my shoulders to pull me out of the way of a cyclist. Stupid idiot should have been on the road.

“Sounds like you’ve got this all figured out, then,” West said, letting me go. “Good timing. We’re here.”

I looked up at the blazing sign above my head. It flashed neon red: Sin Ropa.

“That’s Spanish, right?”

“Think so. Ready to go in?”

I shrugged. Didn’t matter if I was or not. I was going in regardless.

“Well well, West Rykman. What are you doing here?” the guy behind the counter asked. “Brought a friend? She worked out your place isn’t all it’s made out to be?”

West smirked. Not the dirty, sexy one I was used to. This one was...condescending.

“Not yet, Ryan. A friend’s sister. She’s in charge of his fiancée’s bachelorette party and he doesn’t want it at my place, so I’m showing her around.”

Ryan peered around West at me and ran his gaze up and down my body in a leering way. It hovered on my chest for a long moment. “She could show me around.”

“I’m sure my tits are happy to hear it, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to go inside.” I smiled tightly as West covered a laugh with a cough.

Ryan’s eyes snapped up to mine, finally, and he nodded.

“Thank you. Although I’d work on your customer service. You’re at the bottom of my list and I haven’t even seen the other places yet.”

I stalked toward the thick curtains—ugh, how cliché—that separated the entrance hall from the club. Even West made an amused grunting sound behind me, but when we entered, it was so dark that I couldn’t see him when I turned around.

He immediately took hold of my shoulders and steered me through the crowds of people. There weren’t hundreds, but Sin Ropa was set up differently than Rock Solid. Instead of one long stage, there were several smaller stages all around the club. It made the tables haphazard as people had clearly moved them to get near the guy they wanted to watch.

We finally got to the bar after dodging an almost-spill by a chick who was overenthusiastically stuffing her dollars into this guy’s pants, and West deposited me on a stool, stepping up close to me.

“What do you want to drink?” he yelled into my ear.

“I want to see the cocktail menu.”

“Turn around. Plenty of cock there.”