It had unsettled her lately that, despite her best efforts, her relationship with them seemed to be on shaky ground. Both men had always been protective, maybe even overprotective. But lately they’d been alpha-like, staying within easy reach of her when The Pony was crowded or when she was conversing with a male patron who was new to the club. She’d assumed their vigilance was because of the fistfight that had broken out and spread to the dance floor earlier in the fall but they hadn’t let up since then. She’d find them watching her—both of them—but then they’d look away if she caught them. Knowing that they watched over her like that made her feel warm all over but that didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t act on those feelings.
She knew they didn’t like the themed costumes she’d been wearing, despite the fact that it clearly translated into greater profits for the club. They bristled anytime she chose to spend her occasional breaks during the evenings with her friends on the dance floor.
When she joined Grace, Rachel, and the others for a dance, it helped her to relax and she loved the physical activity. Since she’d stopped dancing at the Dollhouse, her curves had rounded out, so she took physical activity however she could but enjoyed dancing most of all.
On several occasions, she’d noticed Ben and Quinten watching her dance from their positions behind the bar. She’d wondered at the way their gazes had made her cheeks warm, considering that she’d danced without a blush while clad in considerably less clothing at her previous job at the Dollhouse gentleman’s club. Being honest with herself, she found that her gaze followed their handsome physiques around the club far more often than was probably prudent.
Ben and Quinten had mostly kept to themselves since her arrival that evening. She had the sense that they were up to something that she wasn’t “in on,” and it hurt her feelings a little. No point in wondering what was up with the two of them because they seemed to keep her guessing most days.
Ben and Quinten returned a moment later carrying more cases, so she sucked in her pouty lip and finished the work that needed to be done.
Bending over to place bottles deep in the cooler, Camilla heard what sounded like a painful groan from Quinten. She caught the sight of his back as he quickly retreated into the storage cooler. Ben stood in front of the sink, his hands braced on the edge, and looked as though he was thinking…hard.
Once more, her gaze was riveted to the strong lines of his masculine physique, the way his bulky biceps were delineated, and the carved granite of his jawline. Her heart palpitated, along with other girlie parts, as she noted the virile bulge at his groin, visible as he stood in profile. What a man.
Something about the intensity of his posture drew her to him. “Is everything okay, Ben?” Camilla asked as she scooted close so none of the patrons could hear her. His masculine scent, a mix of woodsy bodywash and his own unique musk, made her pulse throb as he met her gaze with those dark, unfathomable eyes of his. Some deep, primal part of her wanted to rub up against him, but she held herself in check.
Don’t flip that switch, girl. He’s so off-limits
Ben let out a long sigh, gave her a halfhearted smile, and shook his head. She went back to putting the bottles in the cooler and he helped by removing them from the box and handing them over two at a time. The work took less time with his help but her heart rate sped up as her hands occasionally brushed against the warmth of his as she took them from him.
Once the case of cold beer bottles was empty, he scooted around her in the slightly cluttered space behind the bar and gathered up all the boxes. He lifted them over his head and made a move to go back around her. Unfortunately, he “zigged” when she “zagged.” She lost her balance and wound up with her backside to his front. His hot, heavily muscled body was in contact with hers from her shoulders to her ass. Heat sizzled up her spine and awareness of him shot through her like a bolt of lightning.
“Sorry, Camilla, I didn’t mean to knock you off balance,” he murmured in a low drawl as he paused, bracing himself against her until she was steady on her feet again.
“Th–that’s okay.” She was glad the bar wasn’t full because she had a feeling her expression would probably give her away. The desire to rub against him was almost overpowering.
Once she was steady, he pulled away but not before she noticed the hard ridge that brushed against her ass as he moved. His voice sounded a little strained as he muttered, “Gonna go put these boxes away.” Without further comment he rounded the end of the long wooden bar and strode toward the storeroom.