Tempting Me: A Bad Boy Romance Read Free Page B

pick out which one is the future bride. Usually it’s easy because she is wearing a ridiculous tiara or a veil.
    The woman walking next to Mark is a hot blonde in an almost non-existent white dress. I peg her as the “give my friend the night of her life” maid of honor. The blonde is all over Mark. Despite the expensive clothes, shoes, jewelry and salon blonde hair, she still looks cheap. The next woman is an entirely different story.
    She has long hair that is dark to the point that it’s almost black. It is straight and sleek and so shiny that it reflects the light. She is tall, at least a few inches taller than the other women in her group. She walks with the ease and confidence of someone who has everything they have ever wanted and know their future is set for them.
    Her dress is black and shimmers in the club lights. It clings to her breasts and hips, accentuating a flawless body. The dress does not show too much skin though. She has long legs and covered curves and it’s making me hard. 
    Money or not, this bachelorette is a class act. I have to give props to the man who managed to tie her down while she is still so young.
    She is young; by the looks of her, younger than me, and I’m only twenty-two. What could drive someone who is so young and hot to want to get married? Could it be true love? After my parents and this job, I don’t believe there is such a thing as true love. Whatever her reason for getting married, it’s not my business and it has nothing to do with my job. I can guarantee, however, that I will make her forget the groom, no matter who he is, before this night is over. 
    The star of the party appears nervous sitting at the table. She is looking everywhere and anywhere but at Mark when he brings them shots and champagne. She is just as timid about doing the shot as she is of looking at the waiters, in their hot shorts. It’s refreshing for me to see a woman in this place that isn’t jaded and predatory. I wonder what kind of friend this bridesmaid is, to think this is the best idea for her bachelorette party.
    “What’s her name?” I ask Mickey. He looks down at the yellow notepad he uses for everything.
    “Aria,” he tells me. “What the hell kind of name is that,” he grumbles.
    “I like it,” I say. “It suits her.”
    The music comes on and four dancers go out to warm up the crowd for me. Not that I need a warm-up act, but it does get the women loosened up. Then when I get on stage, I can focus on Aria, and the other guys can keep the rest of the girls busy. Many of the women are already out of their seats and rushing the stage. My target hasn’t even turned around to watch the show. I just hope she isn’t frigid and decides to bolt when the show gets too hot.
    I never think about or observe a woman in the audience for long. So why is it that can’t I take my eyes off of her? I shake it off, telling myself that I’m not nervous because of this one woman. It’s the potential monster tip that has me on edge. To be honest, it’s the tip, her long dark hair, and killer figure all combined that have me on edge.
    I come out on stage and many of the regulars shout out my name. I do a quick scan of the crowd to orient myself and to make sure every lady in the place feels special. When I look to the bachelorette table, we lock eyes. I kid you not. I have actual tunnel vision when I look at her. She’s this glowing pinpoint of light and everything and everyone else become nothing but a blur of color.
    The song I chose for my dance is a slow groove. I’m grateful that it’s slow. This gives me time to regain my bearings before I work my way down the stage. But even with the temptress watching me, it doesn’t take longer than a second for me to ease into my dance. Dancing for women is like second nature.
    I can tell I don’t have to worry about her being frigid. The beauty’s entire body is responding to me. I grasp her small waist with both hands and lift her. Her dress feels