Roman's Choice (Saddles & Second Chances Book 1) (16 page)

“If you’re ready to go—”

“No, Roman. I’ve got this. And knowing you’re sitting there, staring at me, only makes this easier.” She smiled and his world lit up.

“You smell so good.”

“You don’t smell so bad yourself, handsome.”

“How’s it going, sweetheart? Need me to play body guard?” He lifted a brow.

“I’ve got it covered. These men are harmless. How about you? You seem on edge. Is there anything I can do to ease the tension?” She walked her fingers from his chest, down his stomach to his belt buckle and tapped her nail against the metal.

“You’ve got me roped, rattled, and raging, darlin’. Now I just need to sink into that tight body and forget all about this night. Forget that I’m a jealous bastard. Keep in mind that I’m going home with the prettiest woman in the place. Forgive me for being on edge?” He suckled her ear lobe, gently scraping his teeth along the nub and she trembled in his arms. The things he wanted to do to her, right here, right now, was illegal in at least forty states. He swept his hand lower and grasped her tight ass, squeezing. She moaned and his cock jerked, pressing against the teeth of his zipper. He slipped his hand inside of the waist of his jeans and adjusted himself before he lost some valuable brain cells.

“Maybe I need to apologize myself. I’ve been filled with the urge to pull out Tiff’s hair strand by strand each time she puts her scrawny ass and big breasts in front of your face.” She laughed, but it was shaky. “She’s got a nice pair though, doesn’t she? No wonder she thinks she’s queen.”

He pulled back slightly. “I have a feeling that’s a trick question. Either way I answer I’m dead because that means I’ve checked her out.”

She pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear, looking at him through her thick mascaraed eyes. “I know you’ve had to look at least once and as long as it’s me you’re going home with tonight, then it’s all forgiven.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed him fully on the lips, drawing a line along the seam of his lips with the tip of her tongue.

He placed his hands on either side of her head, pressing against her, feeling each soft curve of her beautiful body. “There would be no one else. In fact, I’m ready to leave now and claim my reward.”

“Reward?” she lifted a thin brow.

“I haven’t punched anyone. Cursed anyone. Bitten off my tongue or chipped a tooth from the clenching. I’d say that deserves a little award,” he growled.

“I agree. But the night’s not over. Still waiting on this mysterious man to show himself.”

“Oh damn!” he grumbled. “Patience is usually my best friend. What the hell happened?”

“You’re a very understanding man. Now get back out there before I lose my job.” She pushed at his chest.

He reluctantly pulled back, releasing his hold on her. She dipped her glistening gaze to his crotch and he grew another inch. “Might want to wait until you’re not wearing your brains in your pants, lover.” She winked, turned and gave her most seductive sway of hips as she left him standing with weak knees and raging cock.

Yeah, getting her home wouldn’t come nearly fast enough.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

PIPPA’S FEET WERE killing her. She had respect for the waitresses who worked on their feet, in tall heels, every night. She swore she’d have blisters before the night was over.

Her cell buzzed in her back pocket and she grabbed it, reading the screen. Roman had sent her a message. She clicked the icon on the screen and read…

“Target has arrived. Tall, silver haired, and black-rimmed glasses. Watch closely. Roman”

She typed,

“Will do. Pippa.”

Then another message popped up.

“When do I get that promised lap dance? Roman.”

She responded…

“Tonight, at home, in private. Pippa.”

Smiling, she slipped the phone back into her pocket and went back out to the bar area. She immediately spotted the subject. A well-dressed man in Armani, polished shoes, and gained a lot of attention from the waitresses. Part of Pippa hoped he was being falsely accused of having an affair and he just had a thing for strippers, but a few minutes later when he was led down the hall toward the private room, her heart sunk in disappointment.

Glancing around to see if anyone was watching, she started to slip down the hall too when a harsh grip on her wrist stopped her. She jerked her chin up to find Tiff standing beside her.
Oh shit!

“And where do you think you’re going?” Tiff said through clenched teeth.

“I-I am going down the hall.”

Tiff’s eyes narrowed. “Like hell you are. You haven’t gained the right yet, sweetheart.”

“I’m only doing what Robert told me to do.” It wasn’t the best response, but Tiff dropped her hand and her eyes widened slightly. Tiff was queen bee, but apparently Robert still called the shots.

Her lips thinned, then twisted. “Let me tell you something, honey. I haven’t busted my ass, gave every man a glimpse at my tits every night for three years just to hand over my tips to some small-breasted, Bambi. You’re not even good at this. Now, heed my warning and stay the hell out of my way.”

Pippa straightened her spine and looked the other woman in the eyes. “Listen, Tiff, I don’t want your tips. Just let me get tonight over with and I promise you’ll never see me again. I’m not cut out for this. You’re right.”

A second flashed before Tiff must have been satisfied. She strolled back into the bar area. Alone, and with another quick glance around, Pippa slipped into the hall.

She continued down the corridor, her heart picked up in speed as she felt for her phone hidden in her bra. She’d been warned by Diamond that the waitresses weren’t allowed to carry their phones into the back, but she’d showed Pippa how to conceal it in her bra. She was learning a few things while here, not that she’d ever use the technique again. Chuckling, she gave her head a shake. She’d like to try a few of the pole moves to wet Roman’s interest though. Although, when she’d met him in the hall, he’d been solid as a rock for her. Her inner thighs quivered, anticipating later when she had him all to herself.

Get the pictures needed. Stay calm. This will be over soon.

“Pippa, what are you doing here?” a whispered voice sounded from a semi-open doorway.

Pippa was ready to take on another disgruntled waitress, but she didn’t see anyone. Then a head peeked out. The air swooshed from Pippa’s lungs as she wrapped her brain around who it was standing there. No, it couldn’t be… “Darla?”

The young girl took a step into the hallway, the brighter light catching her face. “What are you doing here?” Darla sent her gaze down Pippa, her eyes narrowing. “And wearing that.”

“The bigger question is, what are
you
doing here?” The girl was wearing a short black robe, her red hair was curled into ringlets that flowed down her back, and she had on enough make up that she could have passed for thirty instead of eighteen. Pippa had a sinking feeling.

“Come in here.” Darla waved Pippa into the room.

She hurried inside and shut the door behind her, pressing her back against the cold wood. “You’re dancing?”

Darla’s mouth twisted and her gaze misted. “And you’re waitressing? Does Roman know?”

Pippa tugged the hem of her shirt in irritation. “Yes, he knows and I have an explanation. But what’s yours?” She narrowed her gaze on the girl and tapped the toe of her heel.

“I-I’ve been dancing for a few months.” Darla went to the vanity and took a seat, twisting to face Pippa.

She inhaled deeply, but got a strong whiff of hair spray and perfume. She coughed. “And the baby? What about it?”

Darla looked down at her hands pressed against her stomach. “I’m starting to show and I’ll have to quit.”

“Do your parents know?” Pippa took a step further into the room, feeling as if she was in another world among the bright lights and vanities filled with beauty items.

With a quick shake of her head, Darla looked at Pippa, fear filling her pretty eyes. “No. They can’t know.”

Pippa wrapped her arms around her waist. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. Help me understand.”

Her thin shoulder came up and dropped. “I had a friend who was dancing, earning lots of cash each night, and I figured I could do it a few months and have the money I need to…”

“That you need for what?” Pippa urged.

Darla stood and paced the floor. Her tall heels clanked against the wooden planks. When she stopped, her bottom lip trembled. “So that I could move to L.A. That’s always been my dream.”

Pippa took in a deep breath, following the details. “But what about the baby?”

“I didn’t know I was pregnant when I took this gig. Now I need more money for the baby.”

Taking a step closer, Pippa laid a hand on the girl’s arm. “And getting pregnant changed your plans?”

The girl’s look became frantic. “I can take the baby with me. I’ll get a job there. I’ll work on my acting skills.”

“But who’ll be your support system? Who’ll watch the baby while you’re working? Have you thought about this?”

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Darla seemed to sincerely think over Pippa’s words before plopping down into the chair. “It’s hard to think about all of the possibilities—responsibilities,” she whispered.

“Darla, I know you don’t know me very well, but being here can be dangerous to your unborn child. I know you’re confused. You’re young, lots of responsibility, but I know you love your child, want what’s best for him or her.”

She gave her head a choppy nod and placed her hand on her stomach. “I do.” Tears fell down her cheeks and she swiped them away with the backs of her hands.

Pippa handed her a tissue and patted her shoulder. “I know it might seem as if there are no easy answers, or choices right now, but I promise you there are many. Sometimes we just have to stop, be silent, and listen for them.”

A loud bang came on the door and they both jumped. “You’re on!” Robert barked.

Darla jumped up. “I’ve gotta go.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The girl’s skin paled. “I have to finish tonight.” She went to the door and turned back to Pippa. “Can we talk later?”

“Anytime. I’m here.”

Pippa watched her leave the room and her heart dropped to her toes. In such a short amount of time she’d come to care for Darla, wanted to help her. She was carrying a child who needed help too.

*****

“Has she texted back to say she got the shots?” Penn shifted uneasily in his chair, finishing off his beer.

Roman scanned the room, rubbing the ache that wouldn’t leave his jaw. “No, she hasn’t.”

“She should have them by now.”

“Yeah, she should.” Roman started to stand, but Penn’s hand on his elbow stopped him.

“Give her a minute longer.”

Roman growled and jerked his arm out of his brother’s grasp. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Pippa’s a smart woman. She won’t do anything that’ll put herself in danger.”

Dropping back into the seat, Roman grabbed his bottle and emptied the now warm beer. He didn’t like this, not one bit. His wife wasn’t trained or knowledgeable when it came to the security business, and if anything happened…

“There she is.”

Roman jerked his head around as Pippa entered the room. He could see the strain in her expression. He wanted to run to her and drag her into his arms, ask if she was okay, but he had to keep his cool. Had to trust that she had this handled.

He watched her move around the room as the song began and a new girl entered the stage. Pippa seemed agitated.
What’s going on with her?

“Hey, ain’t that Ted’s girl on stage?”

Roman dragged his gaze from his wife to the dancer who was sliding down the pole in a seductive stance. He took a closer look and his gut twisted. “Oh fuck!” It was Darla. Now he understood why Pippa was eagle eyeing the stage like a mother cat ready to pounce.

Pippa was nearing the edge of the stage and Roman could see the firm set up her jaw—the determination. Men were hanging over the rail, reaching out, attempting to touch the girl as she rolled her hips in front of them. Dollar bills floated to the floor at her feet. Anger sliced through Roman like a hot blade. His buddy Ted would flip if he knew his daughter was here, on stage, seducing the crowd. What made it worse, Roman knew she was pregnant.

“There could be a problem.” He stood.

“What are you saying?” Penn asked.

Just about the time that his last word was out, things happened in a flash of events. One of the patrons grabbed Darla’s ankle and Pippa was next to him, shoving him back into his seat.

Roman shot around the maze of chairs and tables, but before he could reach the scene, the patron had his fingers gripping Pippa’s arm tightly. There was a splash of liquid, but Roman couldn’t quite see where it came from. His breath was loud in his ears and he charged the man who dared touch her, grabbing him up by the collar of his expensive designer shirt and had his back pressed against the table before the bastard could whimper any resistance.

“Roman!”

Pippa’s voice barely registered through the fuzzy ringing in his ears as he held the man against the table, his face turning several shades of red.

Large hands gripped Roman by the shoulders, dragging and pulling, but he wasn’t going anywhere. “Ro, that’s enough.” It was Penn’s voice that made it through the tunnel in Roman’s head.

But it was Pippa who was in front of him, the fear in her eyes that had him releasing the patron who rolled to his side, coughing and sputtering, holding his neck. Roman blinked, looking at Pippa. “Are you okay?” he asked. There were red finger rings left on her arm that brought back the anger. He started for the man again, but she reached for him.

“I’m okay.” There was an obvious quivering to her voice.

“I’m not, you freaking asshole. Who the hell are you?” The patron still had his hands wrapped around his neck as he sat up, shaking. His face was a bright red and his eyes were glazed over.

“Shut up, you piece of shit or I’ll finish what I started,” Roman said through clenched teeth.

Penn took a step forward, his hands clenched. “I’d advise you to remain silent. Hasn’t anyone ever told you to never lay a hand on a woman?”

Pippa laid her hand against Roman’s chest and he instantly felt his blood pressure lower. Knowing she was okay was all that mattered.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Darla standing on stage, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, her hands covering her breasts in the teeny tiny top. Roman stomped to the edge of the stage. “Come down!” he demanded.

With no hesitation, she made her way to the stairs.

A beefy hand landed on Roman’s shoulder. He turned and came face to face with the owner’s twisted features. “Who the fuck are you? No one tells my girls what to do.”

Roman faced the other man who was at least three inches taller with wider shoulders and Roman didn’t feel anything but a fire to put this man in his place. Over the massive broad shoulder Roman saw the even larger bodyguard step into view, his brawny arms folded and his eyes narrowed in warning. Roman had taken on bigger, badder men and he clenched his hands into fists, ready to take these men on as well.

“These aren’t your girls, buddy,” Roman forced through tight lips.

“Get back on stage!” The owner yelled at Darla, pointing.

She stopped, fear turning her face to pink. She looked like a frightened child and Roman had never seen something so heart-wrenching in his life. He had no clue what brought her here, but there was no way in hell he’d be leaving without her. For her sake, and for Ted’s.

His buddy would be heartbroken. That tore through Roman.

“She’s not going anywhere!” Pippa barked back, facing the owner head-on. Roman was nothing compared to his wife when she was pissed off.

“And you get back to work too!” The owner snarled in her face. “That tight ass can only get you so far, baby!”