moment he stepped through the double doors his gut settled in his ankles like a set of immovable weights. His gaze swept across the large club and the assorted doors against the back wall. Great. He followed the walkway to the bar and halted in awe as a petite blonde leaned over the bar. Jeans hugged her curves, accentuating the delectable bubble of her ass. Her red top rode up just enough for him to glimpse ivory skin his tongue wanted to lick almost more than he wanted to grip her hips and pull her against him. “Eyes off the help, kid.” The manager’s voice exploded in Jason’s brain as heat rose in his cheeks. The blonde stood and turned. She propped one delicate hand on her hip and slid her blue-eyed gaze down him. His muscles flexed under the intensity of her perusal and blood surged southward of its own accord. Her eyebrows rose and a knowing grin lit up her face as his pants got snugger. “I see you finally got a decent one.” “Maybe.” The manager moved to stand beside Jason. “We’ll have to see if he can handle it.” “Oh I bet he can handle a lot of things.” Damn. The manager sighed. “Ease off, Jeanie. He looks like he’s about to run and I could use a decent show tonight.” “Fair enough.” She grinned as she grabbed a rag from the bar and tossed it on her shoulder. “I’ll be on the lookout for those killer moves.” “She’s out of your league, kid. Trust me.” The manager slapped him on the back and laughed. “Dressing area’s behind the first door on the left.” “Thanks.” On both counts. Jason tried to pry his mind from the sexy bartender but he couldn’t help but imagine her gaze on his body as he made his way to the back. The backroom was filled with testosterone-filled Magnum P.I. rejects in various stages of dress. The wannabes huddled in a corner as the dancers watched one of their own pound out the last few reps on the bench press. He watched for a few moments and noted the labored breathing. Huh. Two hundred wouldn’t faze a guy that ripped. Jason sat on a bench in the corner and checked out the competition. Eight other contestants—most of them in seemingly decent shape. Whether they could cut it on stage remained to be seen. Like Mike had said, it was all about the ladies loving what they saw. Jason might not be a lady but even he could tell a couple of the dudes were pretty ugly. But they had the confidence thing down if their body language was any indication. One of them leaned back with a smug grin on his face as he watched the dancers across the room. He guffawed when the dancer finished his set and Jason couldn’t help but grimace. The dancer glared over at him. “What the fuck are you looking at?” “Nothing, man,” the guy replied. Shit. Jason shifted on the bench. Talk about awkward. A deaf man could hear the sarcasm in that response and a blind one could see more was going on here than the obvious. “I fucking bet you can’t press eight.” He looked at the other guys around him. “Twenty bucks but you have to touch your chest each time with no bounce.” “Easy money.” The guy swaggered over to the other side of the room. The dancers chuckled and moved away enough for the guy to get into position. The room fell silent as he proceeded to slowly press out four, his sole focus on not bouncing the weight and touching his chest each time. The dancers congregated around him and their voices rose as they cheered for him to hit eight and snag the easy twenty bucks. The other contestants cheered as well but Jason remained silent as the contestant got to the final press. Before he could press the last one out the dancers held the barbell down on his chest. Pinned to the bench, he struggled. A few of the dancers whipped their dicks out and slapped his forehead. After a few moments the guys moved away in a raucous collective. Oh hell no. Jason laughed in awkward unison with the dancers. The guy had deserved it, he supposed. The