Stripped Bounty (4 page)

But dammit, he was watching her. Again. The whole time as she walked away. She knew it. Not only because he was sitting there on his bike and had given her the order to get gone, but because she felt it like a physical touch.

Again.

B
adger didn’t turn
around when he heard Rick announce Arianna to the stage. Didn’t turn around when he heard the song start playing, either. Fucking Amy Winehouse—Rosie loved to dance to that stuff. It was so goddamn different, just like Rosie was. All the little dresses she somehow managed to make work while she worked the stage, right down to the insanely sexy G-strings and tops as well as garter belts she wore beneath them. Every bit of it…different.

“Tears Dry On Their Own” echoed through the bar. The only reason he knew the names of the songs was because he’d had a month of listening to them. A whole goddamn month of Rosie and her brand of different up on that friggin’ stage. Out on the floor, too. Plus, she worked almost every night. The girl never took a break. Translation: Badger never got a break from her.

He stroked his palm over his beard—which he’d let grow in—scratched his chin and sighed through his nose. Hell would freeze over before he laid one fingertip on that woman’s tight, slender, and completely natural body. But fuck him if there weren’t moments he found himself praying for a nor’easter to blow through the scalding desert and make all that touching he kept wanting to do possible.

After taking a swig of his coffee, he turned and surveyed the crowd, careful to avoid her—but he knew she was on one of the poles, damn near touching the ceiling. It was Tuesday night, so there wasn’t much doing, but Rosie—or Arianna, rather—had started to attract quite a following with her style of routines. For a weeknight, they were fairly busy.

Business had always been good. But it seemed now, since her arrival on the scene, it was real good. She had to be making a mint, at least as much as anyone could in a club like Deuce’s. Satisfied that his two men on the floor had everything covered, Badger headed out the front door to inject some much-needed nicotine into his frayed nerves.

The door closed with a whoosh, sealing the sounds of the music away inside the club. Badger moved a few feet down the sidewalk, leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. Evie had nothing but good things to say about Rosie, not that he cared to know or had even asked. Evie, for whatever fucking reason, found a way to bring Rosie up any time he was in her presence for more than two minutes. The devil herself needed to save him if the woman was trying to play matchmaker.

Badger finished his smoke and promptly lit another. When he was satisfied she’d be off the stage, he went back inside. Sure enough, she was done with her set and already in the corner giving a lap dance to one of the local patch holders. A flame of jealousy curled in his gut when he saw her long, dark hair splayed across the guy’s arm.
Fuck me.

That was another reason he didn’t fuck with strippers. Badger didn’t share what belonged to him. Ever. He barely even talked to this woman, didn’t know shit about her really, but seeing her rubbing up on some other guy had him ready to spit fire. Not good. Badger jerked his chin to Sadie. “Be back.”

She nodded. “Grab me ice?”

“Yep.” Badger walked away, making a beeline for the back hall. He needed to get his shit tight, and do it fast. It appeared Rosie wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Neither was he. Getting a hard-on for a pole jockey who may or may not be oh so much more than just a pole jockey made it real fucking hard to stay focused. Distracted was dangerous. People got hurt when there wasn’t focus. Badger couldn’t afford that. Neither could Deuce or his cabaret.

When Badger got to the ice machine, he realized he’d forgotten the ice buckets. “Goddammit!”

“Looking for these, boss?”

Badger glanced over his shoulder. Rig, one of his bouncers, was standing there, goofy ass look on his face, bucket dangling from each hand. Badger blew out an exasperated breath. “Apparently.”

Rig stepped forward and opened the lid of the machine. “I got you, boss. All good.”

“Thanks.” Badger clapped him on his back and left him to it. Rig was one of his new guys. Country boy moved there from Arkansas. Fuck if Badger knew what the hell his name meant, but whatever. The kid showed on time, was polite and built like a fucking Mack truck. Then again, the name Rig fit the dude perfectly.

About to enter the office and find some paperwork to bury his face in, Badger stopped short when he heard Evie’s voice. Hell no. Nope. Not going in there because the last thing he needed, on top of his already agitated state of mind, was Evie talking about Rosie some more.

Badger glanced up one end of the hall to the other. Sonofabitch, he had nowhere to go. It wasn’t like he could leave.
Fuck me!
Badger leaned his back against the wall, covered his face with his hands and let out a loud groan.
Get a goddamn grip, chump!

“Badger? Are you okay?”

He froze. Oh, fuck.
Fuuuuck!
Fuck me!

R
osie moved down the hall
, her dress hanging over her arm and a wad of cash in her palm, toward Badger. He looked like someone had just kicked his dog. Not that she could see his face or anything, because he had covered it with both hands. “Badger? Did you hear me?”

He dropped his hands but didn’t look at her, just stared straight ahead at the wall across from him. “Yep.”

Clipped answers and one- or two-word sentences was all she’d ever gotten out of him. He was so damn aloof all the time, she really had no idea what his deal was. Rosie shifted the dress and money as she got closer to him. “You sure? I mean, I don’t mean to pry, but you look upset.”

In the next moment, Evie appeared from the office. “I thought I heard someone out here.” She looked to Rosie with a smile. “You need something, honey?”

Badger let out a grunt, and ran a palm down his face. Rosie frowned, looking at him. “I’m fine, Evie. Thank you.”

“Oh! The new dress! Did it work out okay?”

Rosie focused on her and smiled. “It did, yes. Thanks again for the sewing.”

“Anytime, honey. Don’t even mention it.” She smiled, waving her hand at Rosie. “Badger, isn’t it neat all the different and sexy little dresses Rosie wears on stage? I never thought a dancer could work in them, but our Rosie, she does it. Just perfect.”

Badger cut his eyes to Rosie and she swore she felt the disapproval in his expression straight to her toes. “Sure is.”

A shiver sped down her spine at the gravelly tone in his voice and her skin got warm. As always, the affect of his good looks rocked her to her core. In addition to being really fucking good looking, he was also really fucking intimidating. That, and he was perpetually in a bad mood. And no matter how often she smiled or tried to be sweet to him over the past month since starting at the bar, he always looked at her like she disgusted him.

His gaze stayed on her, assessing, condemning…judging.
Hello, uncomfortable?
Feeling a bit raw and exposed, Rosie fidgeted with the dress then tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before wrapping her arms around her waist. “I wouldn’t go that far, Evie. It really just takes a little thought to figure out what’ll work and what won’t.”

“Oh, phooey, let me tell you, honey. I’ve been in this business for a lot of years. The girls are sweet, but not many of them ‘think’ much like you do. I still don’t know what the hell you’re climbing a pole for. But I’ll be damned if Deuce or me is ready to let you go should you decide to up and come to your senses.” She cocked a hip to the side as a grin tugged at the corners of her lips. “Besides, Badger would miss you.”

Badger’s head snapped in Evie’s direction so fast, Rosie swore she heard his neck crack. “Seriously, Evie?” He let out an exasperated sigh.

Holy crap!
Hello, uncomfortable on steroids?
Rosie bit her bottom lip and shifted her weight to one foot. Could she just turn around and run? God, short of him actually telling her how much she disgusted him, the moment could not get any worse.

Evie let out a giggle. “Come on, Badger. Don’t be such a hardass. You’d miss her, even if you won’t admit it.” She winked, turned around, stepped back into the office, and closed the door.

Badger was still staring at the spot Evie no longer stood. The silence stretched and Rosie started to wonder how it was she was going to make an unnoticed exit. In a desperate attempt at emotional self-preservation, she shoved aside her mortification and shored up her emotional walls.

So what if he didn’t like her. Not everyone in the world liked one another. It shouldn’t bug her, but it did. More than she’d ever admit. Rosie took a breath and a step back. “It’s okay. Evie was just being nice. Glad you’re okay. And sorry if I intruded.”

He looked back to her, a different expression in his eyes now. One she hadn’t the first clue how to read. He blinked, paused a moment or two and then nodded. And Rosie took that as her cue to get moving. She turned but got no more than two steps away.

“I’m fine, Rosie. Thanks for asking.”

With her breath held, Rosie glanced over her shoulder. His eyes appeared softer, almost sad. Maybe a little confused, too. It was hard to tell. Either way, she wasn’t going to spend any time trying to figure it out. He was a brick wall she didn’t need to bang herself against. With her nerves still jumping beneath her skin, she forced a smile “Anytime.”

He nodded, pushed off the wall, and strode past her. The scent of his cologne mixed with a trace of cigarettes and leather wafted into her lungs. Rosie pressed a hand to the wall to steady herself, trying for all she was worth to gain control over her body’s response to him while at the same time being tormented by the sight of his beyond perfect ass.

For fuck’s sake, he was just too much. Tall, dark, and dangerous. Plus, deadly sexy with a masculine scent to die for. With her feet rooted to the floor, she watched as Badger continued down the hall and disappeared into the club.

She’d never been with a man like him. Not that she’d been with many men in her life—she and Joey had been together since just after high school. Her husband had been tall, but slender, not at all what someone would call a big guy. Though he was definitely good looking and she’d always been attracted to him. She loved him, a lot at one time, but sadly, that had faded over the years into more of a platonic kind of love.

But Badger? Christ, Badger inspired a whole other level of what being attracted to a man felt like. Rosie had certainly danced for plenty of guys that looked like Badger, and in the last couple years, served drinks to them. So it wasn’t like she’d been under a rock. She’d just never paid much attention before. She couldn’t help but pay attention now.

But regardless of how attractive she found him, Rosie was damn sure he didn’t think the same of her.

The fucked-up thing was, Rosie had heard all about him from Evie. Stuff she probably could’ve gone her whole life not knowing. For example, apparently he didn’t date the strippers. Like ever. Which was probably why he didn’t like Rosie.

Also, Badger was a former patch holder in one of the local motorcycle clubs. According to Evie, he was a really ambitious guy and rose pretty quickly in the ranks. Now he was a bounty hunter, which Rosie thought was pretty fucking cool, though she didn’t express that to Evie.

In addition, he ran all the security at Deuce’s, which was also pretty cool. He’d been working for Evie and her husband for the last fifteen years. That part had made Rosie’s heart swoon just a little bit—knowing that such a hard man could be so loyal.

Oh…and he was single.

Ideas and feelings Rosie had no business entertaining had swirled in her mind and tummy regarding his dating status, but she refused to pay them mind, give them light or let them out of the closet. Hell. No.

It
did not matter
if Badger was available, because Rosie was a stripper. Actually, none of anything she knew about him mattered, and frankly she had no idea why Evie had filled her in on all the Badger deets. But she had.

Rosie shook herself from the thoughts and got her feet moving toward the dressing room. She had at least four more sets to do that night and if no other girls showed she might get more, plus lap dances were putting her over the top and making rent real easy to cover. She was getting back on her feet and she was doing it all by herself.

Rosie sure as hell didn’t need tall, dark, and dangerous getting in her way. No matter if he was loyal and happened to be single.

Ugh. Badger was a distraction. And the last thing Rosie needed was a distraction. But damn, the scent of him still lingered in her nostrils as she laid out the costume for her next set. Distracted was apparently going to be her best friend that night, whether she wanted it to be or not.

B
adger stood
in the far back corner of the bar, near the head of the stage, watching the crowd. It was Halloween and damn near every customer was in costume. Lots of masks, some gruesome, some playful. Someone had a full toothbrush costume on—finding a seat for that moron had been interesting. Every inch of the bar was covered in the standard holiday decorations of bats, cobwebs, and pumpkin lights. Badger had come in early, Evie’s orders, to help decorate…which of course meant his boys had all been in early, too. After all their hard work, the Halloween party appeared to be in full swing. Badger ran his palm along his jaw. He was fucking exhausted.

The majority of the dancers were wearing the typical stripper Halloween costumes: Bunny ears with a puffy tail, devil horns with devil’s tail or a halo—minus the wings, because a lap dance with wings could be a problem. He hadn’t seen Rosie yet, so her costume was still a mystery. Though he had to admit, only to himself of course, he was curious. A few of the guys had started calling out bets regarding what she might pick. Naughty nurse, school teacher or librarian were in the running. One even said Cat Woman.

Badger disagreed with them all, though he didn’t so much as make a peep while they speculated. He knew better. She wouldn’t pick something so predictable. Rosie would be in something no one would expect. It would be different, and every guy in the house would be drooling at her feet.

Except him.

He wouldn’t drool, not visibly anyway. But he’d watch. Not only because that’s what he was paid to do, but because that’s what he always did when it came to her, even when he tried like hell not to. It was unavoidable and confusing as fuck, so he’d given up forcing himself to not watch, nearly a month ago.

There was just something so…well, just unique about Rosie. He couldn’t help but watch her. Maybe it was those pretty yet sad brown eyes and the mystery behind them. Or the care she took with each of her dance sets, the outfits and dresses, her moves…fuck him, her moves. Every bit of it was enough to make a sane man lose his ever-loving mind to lust and intrigue.

But whatever it was, whichever thing, didn’t matter. She was just different, and all that different made him want things he shouldn’t want and wouldn’t take. So instead of touching her, Badger watched her. He watched when she danced onstage but didn’t watch when she was on a customer’s lap because the sight of that made him want to crack a motherfucker’s skull open.

Outside of that, he avoided her like the fucking black plague.

“Ladies and less than gentlemen, let me hear you make some noise for the best Halloween bash in the valley!” Rick’s voice boomed over the sound system and the crowd went nuts. “Are you ready for your favorite dancer?”

The crowd cheered again and Badger shifted his weight, settling with both feet braced apart, arms crossed. She was coming, and he knew it. Not because Rick had just called out what had become her standard intro, but by the way the knot curled tight in his gut and his skin itched.

“I can’t hear you.” Rick paused and the crowd got louder. “Come on, Phoenix, you better make our girl feel welcome. You’ve been waiting for her. Let me hear you now. Shout your love for
Ariannaaaa
!”

As the customers yelled out, calling her name, whistles sounding from several people, the lights dimmed…and then the crowd went quiet. The first words of Hozier’s “Take Me To Church” cut the silence and Badger watched as the two small spotlights came up and—

Badger’s breath caught in his throat.

She stood just past the up-stage pole, shrouded in a hooded white cloak. Two black silk drapes hung from the handles on the old spinner wheel, mounted in the ceiling center stage. No one used that thing anymore—except Rosie. The young breed of strippers were more or less happy to play on the poles rather than mess with the spinner.

It seemed tonight, Rosie had something different planned for it.

He watched as she danced, keeping her body hidden under the cloak. She glided between each pole downstage, her movements loose, yet deliberate and definitely titillating. As she grabbed hold of a pole with both hands, she swung herself around, the cloak flaring out behind her as she twisted her body, and somehow managed to not get tangled. Half the time Badger thought he was going to have a fucking heart attack watching her. But she never faltered. Not once.

Rosie dropped down and walked back to center stage. As the song ended, the lights dimmed again, and Beyonce’s “Crazy In Love,” the slow version, began. In the shadow, Badger saw the cloak drop to the ground but couldn’t make out what she wore beneath it. He tracked her movement and saw the silk drapes hanging from the spinner sway. The lights came up, slowly, in time with the beat, and Badger’s eyes went wide.

Clad in a second skin—a red and nearly transparent body suit—Rosie had both scarves gripped in her hands and began climbing upward, using her legs and feet as leverage to propel herself upward. When she’d risen at least three feet in the air, she somehow hooked an ankle, pulled the silk fabric tight over her thighs and suspended herself sideways.

Badger stood frozen, arms still crossed over his broad chest. He didn’t want to blink, didn’t want to miss a moment of this display. Rosie went through a series of what he could only call aerial acrobatics, the kind of shit he’d only seen on YouTube or in Vegas. She wasn’t Cirque du Soleil, but she was pretty fucking amazing nonetheless. Splits, flips, and spins. Amazing. Un-fucking-believable.

They’d throw money tonight for her. She was going to bring the rain—an old saying in the business. There wasn’t a doubt in Badger’s mind. Hell, even he’d give up his hard-earned pay for what he was playing witness to at that moment.

Then it happened, just as he’d predicted, dollar bills flitted through the air, covering the stage below her. Hundreds of them as the crowd went absolutely insane while Rosie spun, her body parallel to the stage and wrapped in black silk.

She unrolled herself as the song ended, and Blue October’s “Hate Me” began. Rosie stood center stage again, and slowly, peeled off the top half of her body suit, and then the bra top, baring her breasts. She moved to one pole and executed another intricate move, then as she strutted to the other, she unpeeled the bottom half of the bodysuit, revealing a red G-string.

Badger’s mouth went dry and he ran his palm over his jaw and then the back of his neck. Her dark nipples were fully erect as she again, mounted a pole, hooked it with the back of one leg, and with a swing, arched her body in a perfect arc around it, one arm extended in front of her. Spinning, spinning, spinning…as money flew around her.

She was fucking beautiful.

Not an angel or a devil, but something in between.

Pure temptation.

A
s Rosie’s
third song neared the end, signaling the end of her set, she closed her eyes and let the motion of her body spinning on the pole take her away—if only for a few seconds. She knew she’d made a killing.

Rosie remembered the first time customers had thrown money at her. The sound of those bills flying through the air—like nothing she’d ever heard in her life. She was just a kid, barely twenty years old, dancing at an upscale gentleman’s club in Danbury, Connecticut. There was a lot of money to be made there, and the older strippers who had been on the scene too long had taught her how to make it. Now she was the old one on the scene, but it didn’t matter, right?

At thirty-six, Rosie wasn’t necessarily old, but on the scene, she definitely was. Old or not, she was leading the parade. And it was fucking raining money…

Rosie slid down the pole and spun away. The dramatic ending of the song came over the sound system as Rosie walked along the edges of the stage, pausing as customers stuffed bills in the sides of her G-string. She blew them all kisses, nodding, winking, and smiling at many of the regulars that were there for her. Just for her.

It was crazy, but it felt good.
Really good
to be wanted or sought after. Appreciated even. Though it was a fucked-up way to earn that admiration, she’d take it. Not like she had anyone special, or anyone at all really, to shower her with praise or compliments. Women wanted to feel that admiration, even if they didn’t need it. They all deserved it.

Speaking of admiration, she’d seen Badger standing beside the head of the stage during her set. He’d watched her the whole time. She wasn’t surprised, because the behavior wasn’t new. It’d become something that went on whenever he was on shift now.

He watched. She danced.

And she did it knowing his eyes were on her the whole time.

Although Rosie had grown accustomed to his gaze on her, she had no clue why he watched her. But she’d be a liar if she said she didn’t like it. She did. Badger’s eyes on her were as good as if he was touching her…his gaze was
that
penetrating. And she’d begun to crave the feel of his stare on her body. Because of that, she’d also be a liar if she said she didn’t sometimes, if not all the time, dance
just
for him now.

In the beginning, Rosie felt like she had something to prove to him—to show him she was different, especially after realizing the reason he didn’t like her was likely because she was a stripper. So completely unfair. She wasn’t
just
a stripper. Rosie was so much more than that.

And at that moment, she was a stripper who’d just… Made. It. Rain!

Rosie turned to gather the rest of her money off the stage. Her eyes went wide at what lay before her. The stage was covered, absolutely coated in various bills. Movement to her right caught her attention, and suddenly Badger was on the stage.

With her.

Oh God.

Quickly, she scanned the floor of the stage, locating the bra top of her costume. As she grabbed it, desperate to cover her body in front of him—which made absolutely not one bit of sense—she felt her cloak cover her shoulders.

“Givin’ you a hand.”

A shiver ran down her spine at the low rumble of his voice at her ear. Cursing her body, she glanced over her shoulder at him. His offer to help, as well as cover her with her cloak, both shocked and touched her, but also confused her. Rosie nodded. “Thanks.”

He jerked his chin once and then set to gathering her money. Rosie quickly fastened her top, and instead used the cloak to pile money into. When they’d finally gotten it all, Badger gathered up the cloak, took her by the back of the arm and escorted her off the stage.

The deejay announced the next dancer just as Badger rounded the corner of the hall, his fingers still wrapped tight around her upper arm. Maybe he was worried someone would try and grab her money? His strides were so long in comparison to hers…for every step he took, Rosie took three in order to keep up. Was he rushing? Was he annoyed?

She glanced at his profile. Eyes straight ahead, lips pressed in a hard line, jaw set firm, so much so that a muscle ticked in his cheek. Jesus Christ she still couldn’t read this scary, beautiful man. But she wanted to.

Especially because in a matter of a few minutes he’d successfully knocked her off her high “look at me and how kickass I am” horse. She felt her face get hot as foolishness settled like a rock in her stomach. Rosie went to move into the dressing room, but Badger kept hold of her and continued down the hall. She faltered but caught her footing, thank God. “Hey, uhhmm…where we going?”

“Office.”

Shit. He practically growled the word at her. No way she’d done anything wrong. No reason for him to be so harsh in his tone to her, either. So, fine. Whatever. Maybe her ego
had
gotten a little bigger than necessary. There was no reason to be such a dick to her. And frankly, she’d had it with him. Rosie scowled, ready to lay into him. “Why? Did I—”

“Too much cash. It’ll be safer in the office.”

What? Safer?
Oookay
, that was unexpected. She frowned. “Oh… Uhmm.” It was pretty damn smart of him, actually. Rosie hadn’t even thought about it. “Thanks.”

Badger stayed silent as he stepped into the office. Pulling her with him, he shut the door. After letting go of her arm, he crouched low next to the far side of the desk. Rosie watched, shifting her weight on her stripper heels, as nervous energy boomeranged through her body.

She glanced down. Clad in only her G-string and the bra top, the rest of her body suit still up on the stage, and she suddenly felt very…naked. Which was just as stupid as her thoughts on stage because, hello, she’d been naked in front of him a million times and he’d watched her damn near every one of those times.

Rosie glanced away from him, and whatever he was doing that she couldn’t see. The difference was being alone with him, she felt completely bare—naked at a soul-deep level.

Swallowing past the knot that’d formed in her throat, she crossed her arms over her stomach, wanting nothing more than to shield herself. A loud thud in the room brought her focus back to him.

Badger got to his feet and smoothed his palms down his denim-clad thighs. “All locked up. You can get it end of night.” He moved for the door—the very one she was blocking. “’Scuse me.”

“Sorry.” She froze for what felt like forever, wanting to say something, anything to him. He just waited. Staring. Nearly expressionless. Forcing herself to move, Rosie stepped aside and he opened the door. Desperation kicked in and she said the only thing she could think of. “I… I left my costume on the stage.”

Badger glanced at her over his shoulder. “I’ll grab it.”

“All ri—”

And then he just walked away.

“He watches me, but he hates me. Like,
really
hates me.” Rosie blew out a breath and stepped into the hall. She wasn’t a woman who ever gave a shit if someone liked her or not. Badger didn’t like her, big deal. But hate? Jesus. That stung.

She shouldn’t give a shit. He was no one to her.

But she did.

She really fucking did.

And that sucked.