Page 46 of Lucky Mother Pucker

My ears prick up.

“I hope so. She’s hot,” the other says.

“Bet you twenty bucks I’ll be taking her home at the end of the night.”

“Nah, man. She’s gonna be riding my dick, not yours.”

They both laugh. An ugly feeling spikes through me. They’re talking about Lucy. They’re placing bets on who’s going to sleep with her.

Fuck that.

I hop out of my car and head into the strip club. The dimly lit space is crowded and loud. I make my way over, scanning the space for Lucy.

After a minute, I spot her at the bar, balancing a bunch of drinks on her tray.

The guy sitting at the bar right next to her stares at her ass. He licks his lips. When she turns around and catches him gawking at her body, she goes pale. A second later, he looks at her face. He just shrugs at her. Jesus fucking Christ, does this guy have no shame? Does he just go around leering at women?

I’m too far away to hear him, but I can read his lips perfectly as he gawks at her, a smug look on his face.

“You’re hot.”

She flashes a strained smile, then walks away.

Protectiveness slams through me. It feels like adrenaline, but sharper, angrier.

I don’t like this. Seeing her here, seeing how many men are openly staring at her body, like she’s a piece of meat.

Why does she work here? She’s uncomfortable just being here.

I make my way over to her. When she sees me, her eyes go wide, and she stops suddenly.

“Leo. What are you…” She closes her eyes and shakes her head, like she’s trying to refocus. “You were supposed to text me from the parking lot.”

I hand her the key to the house. “Why are you here?”

Her sapphire eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”

“You said you were working at the diner. You lied. Why?”

I’m careful to keep my tone steady. I don’t want her to think I’m angry. I’m not. I’m just worried about her. I don’t like that she’s working here. And I don’t like that she lied to me about it.

She huffs out a breath. “I need money, Leo. Where else can a woman my age with zero education make good money quickly?”

Okay, I guess that makes sense. I still don’t like it though.

“It’s dangerous for you to work at a place like this,” I say.

She laughs and rolls her eyes. “You think I don’t know that?”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

She tilts her head at me, her gaze fiery. “Oh, you wanna tell me what to do now?”

I tug a hand through my hair, frustrated at why she’s mad at me. “No, I just think you should be smarter about where you work. You’re putting yourself in danger being in a place like this.”

The second I say it, I regret it. I sound like a judgmental asshole.

She purses her lips like she’s pissed and starts to slowly nod her head. “Easy for you to say. You don’t know what it’s like to have to actually work.”