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“No, I mean…”
Con glared at Ramirez.
“Oh right,” his guard said. “I mean associates. We became associates. Bottom line is, she’s nice to people who are nice to her. But she won’t take the first step, or even the second. You have to walk to her. Okay, boss?”
Con nodded. He needed to walk to her. He needed to be nicer to her. He could do that. He was Constantine Novinkoff. He could do anything. Be nice, he told himself. Being nice meant not snatching her off stage and forcing her to put some clothes on.
He could do that. He could be nice. He could… his gaze zeroed in on Criss as she did some sort of slow shimmy while rubbing her hands over her body. What the absolute fuck? The patrons in the room began cheering. Con saw red.
“Um, boss, she’s just singing a song,” Ramirez told him. “Boss. Where are you going? Don’t do it, boss. Boss. Damn it.”
What was he doing there?
Criss missed a beat. Luckily, none of her customers seemed to notice. Criss continued singing and swaying her hips as she rubbed hands over her sides. She was not about to let him ruin her night. But seriously, why was he there?
Her confidence level was slowly dropping. His eyes were zeroed in on her. Using Jedi mind tricks, she tried to make him look away. Her Jedi skills were a little rusty. His gaze remained focused on her.
Screw him. He was just mad because she was winning. Her night had gone better than planned. Her tip jar had filled up quickly. So much so, that Lina had to bring her three more during the night.
If she kept this up, she’d have enough money to get her car fixed before they moved. Of course, that meant paying Con less. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Ignoring Con, she continued singing.
Movement from his side of the room forced her to look his way. Where was he going? Surely, he wasn’t coming onto the stage. Fuck. He was approaching the stage. And he was pushing people out of his way as he did so. Panicking, Criss hurried up and finished the song.
“Okay, guys, the band and I are going to take a quick break.” As the crowd booed, she looked to her right. Con was closer to the stage. “We’ll return in fifteen minutes. Go get a drink and then come back. Tell Lina I sent you and she’ll give you an extra shot. Oh, and I have a special song to sing to you guys when we return.”
That made the crowd cheer. She chanced a glance at Con, who’d just reached the stage stairs. He looked even more furious. It was time for a bathroom break. Criss scooped up her tip jar and quickly walked to the back of the stage, ignoring the confused stares from her band.
She raced to the backroom where her locker was. Her hand trembled as she turned the combination lock. Once it was open, she shoved the tip jar into her locker where the rest of her tips were. Now she just needed to sprint to the bathroom.
She prayed she’d reach the hall bathroom before Con reached her. Her prayers were answered. Criss stormed into the bathroom and shut the door. Unfortunately, there was no lock. She turned to the stalls.
Those had locks. Before she could take a step forward, the bathroom door burst open. Con. Damn! Criss opened her mouth to speak. No words came out. What to say? Wait, she didn’t have to say anything.
She’d done nothing wrong. Why was she running like she’d just stolen something? She held her ground as he strode over to her. Her gaze remained locked with his, unwavering, despite the fact that she was nervous.
She tilted her head back to stare up at him when he reached her. Why was he so damn tall? And why did he look so mad? It wasn’t like she’d chased him off stage and then followed him into the bathroom. The ladies bathroom!
Criss held his gaze. But the longer they just stood there staring at each other, the more nervous she became. Not because she was scared of him. But because she was scared of the way her body reacted to him.
He was currently violating her privacy. Yet, her body was wishing he’d violate her privacy. The part of her that hadn’t been touched by anyone, other than herself, in a few months.
Wait, it had almost been a year. A whole damn year. Yeah, she was in need of violating. He stepped closer to her. She could smell his cologne. Why did he have to smell so damn good? He was like a walking pussy magnet. Until he opened his mouth, of course.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” He growled down at her.
“The same thing you’re wearing. They’re called clothes.”
“Careful, Criss.”
“Careful, Con. Why did you follow me into the ladies’ room?”
“Why did you run into the ladies’ room?”
“Because I have to use the bathroom.”
“Then go ahead. I’m not stopping you.”
“I’m not about to use that bathroom while you’re in here.”
