Chapter 6

Six

EMORY

My arm has a mind of its own. It uncrosses, and my hand clamps onto Kane's wrist with swift speed.

"Don't," the word hisses from between my teeth. It comes off as a reprimand, but it's more of a friendly warning—at least that's what I tell myself.

Kane's wrist flexes beneath my grip, and I arch an eyebrow at him. "You don't want to touch someone like her." My heart thumps hard, and I want to reach inside my chest and squeeze the muscle until it relaxes. "Trust me," I add. "Do not touch the women in this place."

I hear Scottie suck in a sharp breath, and I make the mistake of looking up at her. What I expect is a dirty look laced with resentment, but what I get is something that irks me even more.

Fear.

Panic.

Terror.

When she meets my eye, something hitches in my chest, and it irritates me so much that my fingers begin to tighten on Kane's wrist.

"Ah, you're right," he agrees, pulling his arm back.

I force myself to look away from Scottie. I nod at Kane with our silent conversation, and the rest of the show our own personal stripper puts on is a little less risky than before. Scottie's movements are jerky instead of fluid, and it's clear that Kane's flirting did something to her.

I don't care to find out why.

The only thing I care to find out is if she has deleted the photo of us. Then I'll toss her out of my head like a piece of trash.

"Cherry." Malaki leans forward onto the tabletop and taps his fingers against the shiny glass. "What do you like to do for fun?"

"You trying to ask out a stripper?" Hayes smirks over the frosted glass of his beer. He's what we call a bench jockey—only playing in the game if someone gets hurt.

Malaki grins. "Why? Were you planning on asking her out?"

Scottie's soft voice breaks up their conversation. "I can tell you that I don't date hockey players for fun, so you might as well just move past that."

My sarcastic snort has everyone's head swiveling in my direction. Scottie pauses mid-spin.

"You got something to add there, Mr. Grumpy?" Hayes asks.

I shrug and seemingly get more comfortable in my seat. I refuse to look away from the little blue-eyed devil as her tiny scowl deepens. "She does something else to hockey players for fun, and it's definitely not dating. "

Suddenly, Scottie and I are the only ones in the room. It feels like she's putting on some type of show just for me when she wraps her long leg around the pole and arches her lithe body backward, putting herself right in front of me. The ends of her fake red hair touch the tip of my barely touched beer, and her sweet scent makes my nostrils flare. I swallow the tight knot in my throat when I accidentally dip my gaze to her breasts . They're a handful each, and her skin looks silky smooth.

I hate that she's taken my breath away more than once now.

I also hate that I can feel my dick twitch the longer we stare at one another.

She has me by the throat.

But I'm about to have her by the throat.

The song ends, and it's time to go, but not before the guys try to get Cherry to give Kane a lap dance for his birthday.

"It goes against the rules of the club." She gives a little shrug of her shoulders. "Sorry, Devils."

Everyone, but me, throws money at her feet, and she happily swipes up the cash with her hand and walks off into the back.

Every patron in the club watches her go, despite there being multiple half-dressed strippers around. Two of the women are putting on some type of show with a chastity belt halfway across the room, but even their audience catches a quick glimpse at Scottie in her tiny white lingerie.

She's a devil disguised as an angel.

I roll my eyes because she is definitely not an angel.

The team piles into cars, and after I make sure no one is driving drunk, I wait a few minutes until the parking lot is nearly empty and head back inside.

I'm calm when I walk into the Cat House for the second time. I give the room a quick sweep and can't find Scottie anywhere, so I casually head toward the back. Knowing I'm not the smallest guy in the room, I lean against the wall and act like I'm waiting for the bathroom until no one pays me any attention, and that's when I start opening random doors.

To most, I'd look like a creep trying to get one-on-one time with a stripper. Maybe even a pervert or stalker. But the moment Scottie lays her eyes on me, she knows exactly why I'm here.

"Care to talk?" I ask, not giving her a chance to refuse.

She's still in her skimpy, white lingerie, but she's removed the wig, and her blonde locks fall gracefully over her shoulders. I do my best to only touch her delicate wrist and nothing else. I pull her behind me and shove us into the empty room next to the bathroom. I turn my back to the black leather couch in the corner and briefly wonder what it would look like if I held a black light up to it.

If I try hard enough, I bet I can smell the stench of body fluids covering it.

Scottie's pulse rams beneath my fingers when she looks from the couch and then back to my face. Something flickers behind her eyes, and it pisses me off. How dare she look at me like I'm the one with bad morals?

A gruff chuckle leaves my mouth.

Her swallow is loud enough to echo throughout the room. My grip loosens, and she immediately pulls her wrist out of my grasp. As soon as she backs up, I advance. She hits the door, and I trap her there with a slight turn to my head.

"You look afraid." I pin her arm above her head. "Worried that your filthy lies are going to come true?"

Scottie's shoulders straighten, and her mighty chin becomes stronger. The effort she's putting into her features to act unbothered is sort of… admirable ?

I quickly move past the feeling and look at her rising chest. Her soft breasts are rising and falling swiftly, and my eyes travel down past her navel to the curve of her hips.

Why does she have to be so fucking alluring?

She's undeniably beautiful, and I can't stand it.

I hear her mouth open, and I snap to attention.

"What do you want?" she rasps.

Ignoring her question completely, because she isn't in the position to ask one, I take my free hand and place it on her collarbone. A hot swallow works down my throat when I drag my finger down the center of her cleavage, brushing against the frilly lace of her bra.

"I thought the color white was supposed to symbolize innocence." I cup her waist and press her further against the door. There's a tug on my other hand from her trapped wrist, but she's no match to my strength, and she knows it.

"You and I both know that you're not innocent, huh?" She stares at my teasing smirk, and I finally give in to acknowledging her question, because the longer I'm alone with her in this room with my hands on her warm skin, the more I question my own wants.

"I want you to delete the photo of us." I bounce my attention between her eyes and wait for her to give me some sort of sign that she isn't just another untrustworthy woman who wants to ruin my life for the fun of it.

"I did." She says it with a little edge to her voice, and it triggers me.

I lean in closer and ignore the scent of her sweet perfume. Her cute little nose scrunches when I sigh agitatedly. I give her torso a little squeeze, and something wild blooms in her blue eyes. "And you expect me to believe you, Scottie?"

When her free hand grips my wrist, it's a swift punch to my gut. Her palm is so small she can't even wrap her fingers around it, but nonetheless, I feel fucking trapped. Scottie tips her chin with confidence, and I can't stop staring at her glistening red lips. "You have no choice but to believe me..." I get a quick peek of her white teeth when she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth before she frees it with a pop. " Olson. "

She's fucking with my head, and I don't like it.

With her head still lifted like a defiant little brat, I quickly free her arm and trap her chin with a firm grasp. She tries to pull away from me but fails. I peer down at her, and our mouths are so close I taste her on my tongue. "If I see that photo circling around somewhere, I'll know where it came from." I pause to get my bearings because if I move even a centimeter, my mouth will be on hers. "And you'll regret posting it."

I step away a moment later, and Scottie exhales, like she's been holding her breath the entire time I've had her pinned. She quickly moves out of my way, and I grip the door handle with so much force the wood creaks.

Before I make it through the threshold, I hesitate.

I manage to keep my back to her when a smirk slides onto my face. A single dollar bill crinkles in between my fingers as I pull it out of my pocket and throw it at her feet.

It's demeaning, and I know I've humiliated her.

A hot, angry huff hits my back, and I swear, it follows me all the way to my car.