Chase Me (Broke and Beautiful #1)(14)

A chorus of half-tipsy cheers went up in the living room when the door buzzed, signaling someone’s arrival downstairs. Louis leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped his beer. He’d stay right here, thank you very much. What he didn’t see might end up saving his and Fletcher’s lives if there was ever an interrogation. What stripper? I never once saw a stripper. Another skill he’d learned being a lawyer was to make sure you were able to tell the truth and mean it.

He heard the apartment’s front door open and close, and the silent anticipation from men who’d been shooting their mouths off moments ago was almost comical. Then the husky voice he’d been hearing in his fantasies reached him.

“I heard there’s an ex-quarterback in the house. Think maybe he needs a cheerleader?”

Louis’s beer hit the ground, splattering everywhere, but he barely saw it. No way. Not happening. He shot forward from his position at the counter and strode toward the living room with a knot in his throat. He felt sluggish and ill at the same time, dread settling over him like a fog blanket. Just before he reached the living room, slow, pumping music started to play.

Roxy. His rabbit girl. Dressed like a cheerleader. Hips swaying, hands clutching her own hair and piling it on her head sexily. He couldn’t stop himself from acknowledging how truly f*cking hot she looked, skirt so short he could see the tops of her toned thighs. It rode low on her waist, exposing her stomach. Against his will, his body reacted. Fast and painful. Probably just like every other * in the room. She had a smile on her face as she moved slowly toward a seated Fletcher, body undulating, but he saw the strain around her green eyes. The trapped-animal vibe she was giving off was amazingly potent. How could none of them feel it? He wanted to shout and rage and break things. Then she saw him. And froze.

It was the worst moment of his life. Hands down. Even losing his tooth in front of three hundred high school seniors didn’t compare. Her face fell, arms dropping to her sides. Pain slashed across her features and straight into his chest.

She thinks I did this. She thinks I ordered her. Again.

“Roxy.”

“You dickhead.”

“Roxy.” He weaved through the group of guys ogling her, grabbing her hand before she could spin for the door. With a tug, he brought her back against his chest. “I didn’t. I didn’t know.”

Louis racked his brain, trying to figure out how a massive coincidence like this could have happened. He hadn’t even known Roxy was a stripper, so ordering her here would have been impossible. Deductive thinking wasn’t an easy feat when he was more concerned with shielding her from everyone’s view. The answer finally struck him: Zoe, his one-night stand, worked with Fletcher’s best man. She must have shared the details of the agency with the guy. Ah, f*ck. After he’d called Zoe asking for the agency’s phone number. So he could get in touch with Roxy. This is what he got for doing something he knew was screwed up. Zoe had obviously done this out of spite, sending the girl he was interested in to strip for his brother-in-law’s friends. And him. To shame her? Make him sorry?

His head dropped on her shoulder. “Goddammit, Roxy. I’m so sorry.”

She went very still, the tension slowly seeping from her body. He didn’t understand the change. Any minute now, she would turn around and deck him, right? A part of him couldn’t wait for it. Instead, she turned in his arms, a slow smile playing around her lips. It stopped at her eyes, though. They were glassy, far-off. Slightly unfocused.

“You ordered a stripper, Louis. Didn’t you?” She shoved at his chest unexpectedly, knocking him back a step. Sauntering toward him, she did it again, his confusion sending him falling back into an empty chair. “Then it’s only polite to watch me do my job.”

To his horror, the men around him started whistling, excited by what was taking place. No. No. He couldn’t let this happen. Not only did the idea of these guys seeing her naked make him livid but she didn’t want to do it. He could see that. This was her attempt to maintain her pride, thinking he’d been the one to take it away. In a sickening twist, he inadvertently had. A fact he had a feeling would haunt him for a very long time.

Someone turned up the music until it pounded in his ears, mimicking the race of his blood. Because despite the wrongness of it, Roxy was coming closer in a barely-there pleated skirt, little white panties peeking out to weaken his conscience. Getting her out of this room required him to turn down a lap dance from the girl he wanted to take to bed so badly that he’d been aching for a week. But while his brain might only be registering her in the room, they weren’t alone. Wake up, *. “No, I won’t let you do this. You’re going to come with me and let me explain.”

“What’s to explain, baby?” She gripped his shoulders and straddled his thighs. Then, oh sweet Jesus, she slid down onto his lap, settling her weight on his hard dick before working her hips in a circle. Fuck. Stars winked behind his eyes. He started to sweat, fingers itching to smooth up her thighs and cup her ass, jerk her closer. Those pouty lips grazed his neck just before she spoke. “You wanted your fun, now you’re going to have it. Just sit back and enjoy the show.”

His hand shot out to stop her from removing her top. “No. You’re not doing this. I’ll carry you out of here if I have to, but it’s not happening.”

She ripped her hand free of his, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “Hoping if you take me somewhere private, I’ll do more than just strip for a twenty?” Temporarily distracted by sickening shock, he didn’t manage to stop her this time from peeling the shirt over her head. The bra she wore was little more than sheer, black material. He could see right through it to her mouthwatering breasts beneath. Which meant everyone else could, too. A growl ripped from his throat as he surged to his feet, taking her with him. Their position left her legs looped around his hips as he stormed past the crowd of jackasses and into the nearest bedroom, leaving catcalls in his wake.