Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Maxwell chuckled at that.
“Alright then, Mr. Hunter.” He took another drag from his joint. “Let’s put the points on these size specifications though.”
Tisha nodded. “Ten extra points for women over 200 pounds, fifteen for those over 250, and a whopping twenty-five for those over 300 pounds.”
“Goddamn. You aren’t playing over there.”
“Then, we agree?” Tisha eyed him. “The more ample the figure, the more points.”
“Fuck yeah.”
Inhaling more of the joint, I got bored with the conversation, and looked over my shoulder, and checked on my mouse.
Now there were ten women, all dancing in front of Emily and Valentina.
Money covered the stage.
The woman right in front of my mouse moved with a confidence and energy that demanded attention, her body a symphony of motion as she twerked to the pulsating beats that filled the club.
Emily had her hands in the air, throwing more money and rocking her hips.
I blinked.
Maxwell and Tisha continued to formulate their pussy point system, but my focus remained on Emily.
Valentina bumped Emily with her hip and flung more money at the women. Their laughter—carefree and genuine—wove through the air, merging with the music.
They are truly sisters now.
My heart swelled.
Then, the dancer in front of my mouse, dropped into a split.
I widened my eyes.
Maxwell and Tisha’s voices faded into the background.
Emily and my sister responded with enthusiastic applause and tossed money onto her.
Bills fell along her breasts.
Instead of gathering the money, the dancer rolled over and began crawling toward Emily.
Be careful, little one. Do you know who she belongs to?
I turned completely around and took another hit of the joint.
The casual banter that had flowed so freely between Tisha and Maxwell ceased.
Their attention went to the dancer and my mouse too.
Maxwell chuckled. “Well damn, Em.”
“Cousin, looks like you may have some competition for this evening.” Tisha laughed.
The dancer began gyrating against my mouse, slipping her breasts along hers.
I grunted.
Then, she leaned forward, whispered something in my mouse’s ear, and brushed her mouth against Emily’s cheeks.
In that instant, a fierce possessiveness surged within me.
The sight of another person—however innocently or provocatively intended—touching Emily ignited a spark of jealousy that I could neither ignore nor justify. It was irrational, but without a moment’s hesitation, I found myself prowling forward.
“Eh, man!” Maxwell called after me. “What are you doing? It’s just fun and entertainment.”
“But that is my mouse.”
It took no time to get there. When I got close, the small crowd of Harlem Crew parted before me. I approached Emily, the dancer froze in mid-gyration.
I glared at her.
The dancer parted her lips and then let go of Emily, sliding away with a sheepish smile.
My mouse turned my way. Shock hit her face. “What are you doing over here?”
“What are you doing over here?”
Emily laughed and took the joint from me. “No more smoking for you tonight.”
“I can smoke if I want to, mysh.”
“Is that right?” She handed the joint to one of the Harlem Crew women. Smartly, the woman didn’t take a hit. Instead, she put it out.
Valentina shrieked and waved her hands. “I cannot help myself. I must go up there. I love the States!”
“No. No.” Emily shook her head and tapped my shoulder. “Will you tell your sister that she can’t go on the stage and hump the dancers.”
I shrugged. “But this is the Lion’s club. My sister can do whatever she wants to.”
“Perfect!” Valentina kicked off her heels.
“Oh God.” Emily tried to grab her, but it was too late. Valentina got on that stage and started dancing with the other women. I didn’t even have to look behind me, to know that Maxwell was probably frowning and shaking his head.
But that was not my concern.
I took Emily’s hand. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“You will see.” I dragged her away.
Chapter thirty-one
Cock-whipped
Emily
Kaz guided me away from the electrifying pandemonium of the strip club’s main floor, where lights danced and music thundered, and his grip on my hand was both a guide and a claim.
My jealous lion.
He led me toward a dark hallway of purple velvet walls and black carpet.
We stepped over the arch and continued.
Lined on both sides, Brotherhood guards towered like sentinels—huge, imposing, tattooed and bearing scars.
They held their guns at their sides in a casual display of force and readiness.
The subtle scent of expensive cologne mingled within the adrenaline-charged space.
The transition from the loud, bass-heavy environment to the more secluded back of the club was like entering a completely different universe.
The music’s intensity dulled to a muted throb, allowing for the sound of our footsteps on the plush carpet to come to the fore.
We moved through this cloistered space, and Kaz navigated with the ease and authority of a sovereign in his realm.
I squeezed his hand, feeling the electricity between us. “Where are we going?”
Desire flickered across his eyes. “I am a little parched.”
“Parched?”
“Yes, mysh. I am thirsty.”
“I gather that, but what does that have to do with us leaving the main floor?”