[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
That point was inarguable, so Chance just leaned back
with a shake of his head and a faint smile, and a renewed
resolve never to let it get back to his chief that he was about
to enjoy a night in a male strip bar.
The taxi pulled up to the innocuous front door of the club.
The only thing to distinguish it from the other dark buildings
surrounding it was a red velvet rope in front of the door.
Tucker whipped out cash and paid the cover charge for both
of them before seizing Chance's wrist and hauling him past
the main downstairs stage and up a small set of stairs.
Chance knew Tucker was headed for the smaller, more
213
To Serve and Protect
by Chris Owen, Tory Temple, CB Potts
intimate stage that only held one dancer at a time instead of
two or three.
It was a weeknight, so the club was definitely not at
weekend peak. A few patrons were scattered throughout the
stage area, but Tucker was able to find two chairs easily. He
sprawled into one and signaled for a drink, pointing to the
chair next to him. "Sit," he grinned.
Chance sat, amused. The view was always pretty, but
somehow strip clubs weren't really what got him going. He
would rather have the real thing under his hands; would
rather have someone he could touch and kiss and lick. Still,
watching Tucker was usually worth the couple of hours they
spent there, so Chance settled back and signaled for his own
drink.
The dancer currently on stage was young and lithe and
almost done with his act, since the only thing he had left to
do was remove his tear-away pants. Chance studied him and
decided he'd been dressed as a construction worker. A yellow
hard hat sat in the corner of the stage and a makeshift tool
belt was draped over a table. Great, that meant it was theme
night. Each guy would be dressed in a different outfit. Again,
not really Chance's thing, but he eyed the oiled chest anyway.
Skin was skin.
The next stripper was dressed as a sailor, and Tucker
made an appreciative noise at the nice contrast between
tanned, oiled skin and the white uniform. Chance had to
admit the guy had nice hips, and laughed out loud when a
dollar bill appeared in Tucker's hand.
214
To Serve and Protect
by Chris Owen, Tory Temple, CB Potts
The sailor finished, ending his song dressed only in a
skimpy white thong with a red anchor directly over his cock.
Tucker eyed his ass hungrily as the sailor left the stage. "He
was nice," Tucker commented.
"He was tan," Chance agreed, knowing it was probably
fake, either from a bottle or from a tanning bed.
Tucker looked up expectantly as the next dancer appeared,
but he and Chance both groaned and rolled their eyes at the
same time. The stripper was dressed as a firefighter,
complete with yellow turnout pants, suspenders, helmet, and
carrying rolled-up hose. Chance watched him dispassionately,
already bored.
Tucker snorted his disgust and looked toward the bar for
another drink. "That's the last fuckin' thing I need to see."
Chance nodded in agreement. It wasn't that the guy
wasn't hot, because damn, he had a broad chest and thick
arms. His eyes were blue, a piercing blue Chance could see
even from a distance, and when the dancer turned around,
his ass was small and tight. But still ... God, dressed like a
firefighter? Who got off on that shit? He slumped lower in his
chair and waited for Tucker to get back with his beer.
Tucker appeared over his right shoulder and handed him a
cold bottle, which Chance accepted gratefully. "This guy ain't
done yet?" Tucker asked, dropping back down in his chair and
taking a long drink of his own beer.
"Nearly," Chance answered, glancing up at the stage in
time to see the dancer take off his suspenders and drop his
pants.
215
To Serve and Protect
by Chris Owen, Tory Temple, CB Potts
"Think I'm 'bout done anyway," Tucker sighed. "Nobody
impressed me."
Chance burst out laughing. It wasn't too hard to impress
Tucker, not as long as you had a nice ass and firm package.
"Aw," he grinned. "Just let me finish this bottle and then we'll
go. I'll see if I can impress you."
Tucker twinkled at him. "I'm thinkin' yes," he said, and
stood up from his seat just as the firefighter finished his set
and another stripper strolled onto the stage. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl fopke.keep.pl
That point was inarguable, so Chance just leaned back
with a shake of his head and a faint smile, and a renewed
resolve never to let it get back to his chief that he was about
to enjoy a night in a male strip bar.
The taxi pulled up to the innocuous front door of the club.
The only thing to distinguish it from the other dark buildings
surrounding it was a red velvet rope in front of the door.
Tucker whipped out cash and paid the cover charge for both
of them before seizing Chance's wrist and hauling him past
the main downstairs stage and up a small set of stairs.
Chance knew Tucker was headed for the smaller, more
213
To Serve and Protect
by Chris Owen, Tory Temple, CB Potts
intimate stage that only held one dancer at a time instead of
two or three.
It was a weeknight, so the club was definitely not at
weekend peak. A few patrons were scattered throughout the
stage area, but Tucker was able to find two chairs easily. He
sprawled into one and signaled for a drink, pointing to the
chair next to him. "Sit," he grinned.
Chance sat, amused. The view was always pretty, but
somehow strip clubs weren't really what got him going. He
would rather have the real thing under his hands; would
rather have someone he could touch and kiss and lick. Still,
watching Tucker was usually worth the couple of hours they
spent there, so Chance settled back and signaled for his own
drink.
The dancer currently on stage was young and lithe and
almost done with his act, since the only thing he had left to
do was remove his tear-away pants. Chance studied him and
decided he'd been dressed as a construction worker. A yellow
hard hat sat in the corner of the stage and a makeshift tool
belt was draped over a table. Great, that meant it was theme
night. Each guy would be dressed in a different outfit. Again,
not really Chance's thing, but he eyed the oiled chest anyway.
Skin was skin.
The next stripper was dressed as a sailor, and Tucker
made an appreciative noise at the nice contrast between
tanned, oiled skin and the white uniform. Chance had to
admit the guy had nice hips, and laughed out loud when a
dollar bill appeared in Tucker's hand.
214
To Serve and Protect
by Chris Owen, Tory Temple, CB Potts
The sailor finished, ending his song dressed only in a
skimpy white thong with a red anchor directly over his cock.
Tucker eyed his ass hungrily as the sailor left the stage. "He
was nice," Tucker commented.
"He was tan," Chance agreed, knowing it was probably
fake, either from a bottle or from a tanning bed.
Tucker looked up expectantly as the next dancer appeared,
but he and Chance both groaned and rolled their eyes at the
same time. The stripper was dressed as a firefighter,
complete with yellow turnout pants, suspenders, helmet, and
carrying rolled-up hose. Chance watched him dispassionately,
already bored.
Tucker snorted his disgust and looked toward the bar for
another drink. "That's the last fuckin' thing I need to see."
Chance nodded in agreement. It wasn't that the guy
wasn't hot, because damn, he had a broad chest and thick
arms. His eyes were blue, a piercing blue Chance could see
even from a distance, and when the dancer turned around,
his ass was small and tight. But still ... God, dressed like a
firefighter? Who got off on that shit? He slumped lower in his
chair and waited for Tucker to get back with his beer.
Tucker appeared over his right shoulder and handed him a
cold bottle, which Chance accepted gratefully. "This guy ain't
done yet?" Tucker asked, dropping back down in his chair and
taking a long drink of his own beer.
"Nearly," Chance answered, glancing up at the stage in
time to see the dancer take off his suspenders and drop his
pants.
215
To Serve and Protect
by Chris Owen, Tory Temple, CB Potts
"Think I'm 'bout done anyway," Tucker sighed. "Nobody
impressed me."
Chance burst out laughing. It wasn't too hard to impress
Tucker, not as long as you had a nice ass and firm package.
"Aw," he grinned. "Just let me finish this bottle and then we'll
go. I'll see if I can impress you."
Tucker twinkled at him. "I'm thinkin' yes," he said, and
stood up from his seat just as the firefighter finished his set
and another stripper strolled onto the stage. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]