Mistress Christmas Read Free Page A

around the privacy screen that provided a silhouetted image of the clandestine couple to feed other bar patron’s voyeuristic tendencies. The shadowed tease of a feminine form in motion was far sexier than the strippers on the stage wearing nothing but skin, in Nick’s humble opinion.
    The two main areas were empty. He supposed the prime time for lap dances was between a stripper’s sets. Mistress Christmas led him to the far corner, which was too far back to be part of the free peep show.
    Essentially they were alone.
    One low-slung, padded wooden bench was the only furniture in the space. A boom box with a long extension cord had been propped in the corner.
    “Have a seat, cowboy.”
    Nick sat, hooking his heels on the outside edges of the bench. “What rules was he talking about?”
    She spun toward him. “You mean you don’t know?”
    “No.” He laughed. “Will you believe me when I confess I’m not a regular patron of clubs like these?” Come on, baby, take the bait.
    Her dazzling smile rivaled the glow of the light display strewn across the ceiling. “I believe you. But the truth is, I didn’t intend to go through with the lap dance thingy anyway.”
    Thingy? Not the lingo he’d expected from a hardcore professional stripper. In fact, there were more than a few things about Mistress Christmas that just didn’t add up.
    “—pawing me and I just needed to get out of there for a minute. I’m sure you understand, since you’re not used to these types of establishments.”
    So she’d decided to play that angle? Nick could almost hear her canned speech: This is such an awful place. I hate working in a strip club, even when it’s temporary. I’m trying to get out of this life. I’m not like the other girls who work here. From the first time I saw you I sensed you were different and you knew I was different. Might sound crazy, but I like being with you because you make me feel safe.
    Right. As if he’d buy that.
    And then Nick knew he had to demand the lap dance. To see how far she’d take the role of the big-hearted, misunderstood stripper. He dug in the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a wad of cash.
    Her eyes widened before they met his.
    “I like bein’ with you too. Which is why I’m gonna hafta insist on that dance, darlin’.”
    “What?”
    “See, that’s why I ventured into this strip club in the first place. A buddy of mine was here last week and he said you were the hottest woman he’d ever clapped eyes on. He told me you damn near melted his clothes to his body with the sexy way you danced.”
    “But—”
    “I wanna get me some of that dirty dancin’ as my own special Christmas treat. Or should I say Christmas wish?”
    She didn’t respond.
    “So how much?” Nick waved the money and waited for the greedy Mistress Christmas to appear.

    Holly panicked. How was she supposed to get out of this? Nick actually believed she was a stripper.
    Well, duh, Holls, you’re in a strip club dressed like a dominatrix. What’s he supposed to think? That you’re an accountant from Cherry Creek?
    Maybe she could reason with him. Ignoring the rigid set to his jaw, she said, “Look, I think you might’ve gotten the wrong idea about me. Let’s talk to the manager. She’ll set you up with someone else.”
    “I don’t want anyone else, Holly ”—he paused, giving her a second to absorb the fact that he’d heard her real name—“I want you. Just you. No substitutions.”
    She saw the challenge in his eyes. Nick expected her to argue. He probably didn’t even care about a damn lap dance; he just wanted her to refuse so he could cause problems.
    Screw that.
    The schnapps provided enough edge that his high-handed behavior pissed her off. Rather than back down and return to being Holly the wallflower, she threw her head back and became Holly the wallbanger.
    Not-So-Saint Nick wanted her to dance? She’d dance. And he’d pay for it in more ways than one.
    Holly smiled seductively.