Jackson: A Sexy Bastard Novel Read Free Page A

I’m flying.
    Watch me fly .
    My toes point instinctively as I come around the pole a second time. As I finish the turn, I let one leg extend out, gradually lowering myself to the floor in a front split. Amazingly, the cutoff jean shorts Missy lent me don’t protest in the slightest. Stripper-wear really is well made.
    Reaching up the pole with both hands, I silently thank my mother for all of those years of gymnastics she forced on me, and I hoist my body off the floor, holding the split and swinging myself around one more time. I hear a few whistles and shouts to “come closer, baby.” The green tint of dollar bills flashes in my periphery, and my lips curl in a smirk.
    Keep it coming, fellas.
    Once I circle the pole, I tuck my knees and stand, doing a few hip gyrations as I unfold. A few more catcalls come from the wings, and I toss them a kiss.
    That’s right, gentlemen. All eyes on me.
    God, I am loving this.
    My heart has calmed down to a steady bass beat reverberating through my body. Trailing my hands up my body in a caress that has them drooling, I bend backwards. The world tilts upside down as I lower my palms to the floor behind me and raise my legs into the air. I can hear the collective gasp as I slowly, painstakingly lower both legs into a side split over my head. Blood is rushing to my face, the music pounding through my palms, and I feel a giddy high course through me as more shouts ring in my ears and scratchy dollars are tucked into the legs of my shorts.
    I’m doing this , I think as I lower my legs to the stage and right myself. Missy was completely wrong about me. I’m the one in power. I’m taking their money from them, and they don’t even know my name.
    But when I come up for air, I make the rookie mistake. I raise my head and look directly into the face of the man before me.
    Into eyes like I’ve never seen before.
    Into eyes I could fucking drown in.

3
    Jackson
    H er long , lean legs, her golden skin, her perfect ass cupped inside tiny cut-off jeans. Fucking hell—I haven’t seen anything so hot, so arousing, in for-fucking-ever. Nothing could pull my eyes away from this goddess—nothing but goddamn Halford and his fat fucking mouth.
    “Wooo-eee!” Halford slaps the stage and leans in, elbowing me in the ribs. “You see that right there?”
    It takes everything in me to tear my eyes away from the gorgeous girl onstage, but I manage to do it, just long enough to see Halford pointing at a redhead hanging upside down from her pole on an opposite platform. She’s wiggling her pale breasts so fiercely that they’re nearly hitting her in the face.
    “How’d ya like to get up there with her, eh?”
    “She’s beautiful,” I murmur noncommittally, still unable to look away from the woman writhing around the pole just a few feet away. She’s almost graceful in her movements—like she’s a dancer or something.
    “What, you got a thing against gingers?” Halford presses me.
    I shrug. I know I should be paying attention to him—that’s why I’m here, after all: to woo him into thinking we’re “buddies” so he’ll fund the hospital project—but I can’t tear my eyes away from the cowgirl and her high-as-fuck heels. She’s so fluidly she could be made of mercury.
    “She’s a little gymnast, that one.”
    I realize I’ve been caught and force my full attention back to this grimy little man. Part of me wants to drag him away from the stage, to keep him away from this girl with the honest face and lithe limbs, and part of me is still reeling from the moment before, when she looked straight into my eyes. I’ve never felt such raw emotion emanate from a performer before.
    Really, I’ve never felt such raw emotion coming from anyone, ever.
    And now I feel weirdly protective of her, which makes absolutely no sense. They have bouncers here for that sort of thing, and if she didn’t want to be stared at, she wouldn’t be up on that stage.
    “Hey,” I say to Halford, “did you