Jesus fucking Christ.

I expected some meaningless booty shaking and a few clumsy spins around the pole.

Not this.

However, the shit she’s doing is working, because the men are throwing money on the stage hand over fist.

My dick thickens when she unzips her pants and slips them down her hips, revealing a white G-string.

The move has my fingers tightening around the glass, and I want to kill a motherfucker when she begins unbuttoning her cardigan and it falls open, baring her white cotton bra.

She stands up then, stretching the length of her body against the pole before placing it between her perky tits.

“Fuck me,” the guy in front of me says. “She’s so hot.”

I’ve never been the jealous type, but the thought of other men watching her do this has my blood fucking boiling.

Ginger belongs to them…

Aspen is mine.

She does one leisurely turn around the pole, slipping her sweater off her shoulders in the process.

Closing her eyes and gripping the rod, she tips her head back. I sit, hypnotized as her free hand finds the hook of her bra and she unfastens it before spinning around and letting it fall to the floor.

She raises her arms over her head—swaying her pert ass—before she turns to face us again, her perfect tits on full display.

Glass cracks under my fingers and liquid streams out over my hand and onto the table, but I don’t give a fuck.

She does one gradual—deliberate—walk around the pole as the song begins to fade before coming to an end.

Aspen comes out of her trance, and as if realizing she just showed these assholes parts of herself they didn’t deserve to see, she quickly picks up her clothes and clutches them to her chest before sweeping all the money into a bag.

I’m already out of my chair by the time she runs off stage.

Chapter 37

Aspen

Holy shit.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I head back to the dressing room.

I can’t believe I just did that. However, if there was ever a night to be bold, this was it because it’s packed.

“Damn, girl,” Heather says when I open the door of the dressing room. “There’s not a dry seat in the house after that little performance.”

After placing my bag of money on the counter, I put my bra on. “Well, hopefully it paid off—”

“You can’t go back there,” Bubba the security guard shouts before the door of the dressing room swings open.

My mouth drops when Knox rushes inside, looking like a deranged psychopath as his gaze lands on me.

“What the hell are you—”

I don’t get to finish my statement because Knox picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder like some kind of unhinged caveman.

“Are you crazy?” I slap his back when he turns to walk out of the room.

“Do you know him?” Heather calls out as we pass the counter and I reach for my cardigan.

“Should I call the police?” Bubba asks, sidestepping Knox as he leaves the room.

No, you should fucking stop him. Then again, now that I’ve seen Knox fight…it wouldn’t end well for poor Bubba.

“He’s my stepbrother,” I settle on because the club has a strict rule against boyfriends being here.

Not that Knox is my boyfriend.

He’s nothing to me. He made that perfectly clear the other night.

“Put me down,” I demand, but the asshole ignores me as he trudges down the hallway.

At least he’s headed for the back exit instead of trekking through the club.

I try squirming out of his arms, but that only makes his hold on me tighten. “Jesus. Are you deaf? Put me d—”

“No,” Knox growls. “You’re done.”

He can’t be serious.

“My shift doesn’t end for another two hours. I need to go back inside.”

He shoves open the door leading to the back lot. “You no longer work here. You’re fucking done.”

For a moment I swear I must be hearing things because none of this makes any sense. “You’re kidding, right?”

I jolt when I feel his palm slap my bare ass.

Holy hell. Did he just spank me like I’m a child?

“Does that feel like I’m kidding? Or do you need another one?”

I can’t help but laugh because he’s acting and talking like a crazy person.

My laughter only makes him slap my other ass cheek.

I punch the back of his thigh. “Quit spanking me, asshole.” I pinch him for good measure. “And put me down. Now.”

To my surprise, he obliges, setting me down in front of his jeep.

I quickly put on the only article of clothing I was able to grab and button it.

“What the hell is your problem?”

His sharp features twist and he blows out a ragged breath, almost like he’s surrendering to something beyond his control.

His voice is low and guttural when he finally speaks. “I want to fuck you again.”

I stare at him in disbelief because that was the last thing I expected him to say. However, if he thinks dragging me out of my job in a jealous rage and proclaiming that he wants to fuck me again is going to change anything between us, he’s even crazier than I thought.

I shake my head, teetering on the verge of either laughing or crying because everything about this exchange—about us—is insane.

“You had your chance to do more than fuck me,” I remind him, spinning around so I can go back inside. “But you blew it.”

I’ve barely taken two steps when he snatches my arm and hauls me back to him.

“Leave me alone, Knox.”

His free hand slides down the length of my torso. “I can’t.”

He’s so full of shit. “Can’t or won’t?”

He grabs my hip with one hand and takes hold of my waist with the other. I can feel his erection pressing into my backside. “Both.”

My head feels heavy and my eyes burn with unshed tears as he unbuttons my sweater and squeezes my tit through my bra.

His rejection hurt…more than any other time he’s set out to cause me pain.

I was ready and willing to take the plunge with him.

All he had to do was be honest with me.

But he couldn’t.

“Stop.”