I grit my teeth, willing my subconscious to be silent. Seriously, no one thinks they’re going to meet a customer out in the real world, but it’s happened before. Not to me, fortunately, but other girls I know say they’ve bumped into customers at the grocery store, or even worse, they’ve bumped into a customer’s wife or girlfriend. It’s bad, but a lot of these dudes are actually in a relationship, and they use Sweet Lies for a variety of reasons. Still, I’m now in the boonies of Montana, so how the hell did this happen? What were the chances that the hot guys from last night would be my new bosses? And why now, of all times, when I was trying to start a new life?
That’s just how the cookie crumbles, my subconscious speaks glumly.You’re shit out of luck, Kiki.
I grit my teeth again because I’mnotan unlucky girl. I won’t be that woman who’s always whining and complaining about how life has beat her down. How she’s always a victim of unfortunate circumstances, and how she never catches a break. Sometimes, thinking is believing, and I can’t let myself fall into that hole of endless self-pity and victimization.
So I make myself look straight at my new bosses, taking in Colt and Cason.
Damn, they’re good-looking, my subconscious whispers.At least they’re just as good-looking in the light of day, as in a shadowy strip club.
A wry smile crosses my lips. That’s certainly true because Colt and Cason Madewell must be at least six four, with broad shoulders, wide chests, and strong, powerful thighs from riding stallions. Their hair is an inky black, complemented by blazing blue eyes that seem to see through me.
Or rather, not seeing through my curves, but ratherdevouringmy curves. I’ve been with men before, and these men are savoring my assets. Sure, their glances are somewhat discreet but hetero men are never as canny as they think. I see how those azure eyes rove over my big bust and tiny waist, lingering on the swell of my hips. I see how they skim over my thick thighs before going all the way down to my spit-shined cowboy boots.
But the once-over takes only a split second, and then the cowboys snap back to business.
“So talk,” Cason commands. “We’re listening.”
I open my mouth, but then snap it shut because they can’t force me to talk just because they say so.Theycan take the initiative because they’re the ones being assholes. Colt finally breaks the silence.
“So what brings you to Montana?” he asks in a conversational tone.
I snort and roll my eyes. I know it’s rude, but I feel entitled after being stood up last night. Anger suffuses my form, and I decide to take the bull by the horns.
“Why didn’t you meet me after my set?” I demand, staring daggers at the twins while crossing my arms over my chest. “I said twenty minutes, right? Don’t tell me you didn’t hear me because I know you heard me just fine.”
The brothers share an amused look.
“Is that why you’ve got a bee in your bonnet today?” Colt drawls.
“Someone’s might ornery this morning,” Cason adds with a smirk on his mobile lips.
I can’t take it anymore. I jump up and glare at them with my hands on my hips.
“YouknowI put myself out for you. I did more than put myself out there, I literallyput out! So why didn’t you meet me afterwards like I asked?”
The twins grow somber then, their eyes deepening to a flinty black.
“We appreciate the invitation, but it’s not something we usually do,” Cason states in a firm tone.
“We love that you entertained us at the Starlight Saloon, Kiki, but generally, what happens during a Blue Light Special is a one-off. We like to keep our private lives private, and don’t meet girls out in the wild, like you requested.”
I stare at them.
“There are a hundred people living in this town. You’re saying you’ve never accidentally bumped into a girl you’ve fucked in the past?”
My language is foul, but I have to get my point across. Meanwhile, the men look at each other and shrug.
“Of course we have,” Cason acknowledges. “It happens. Like you said, there aren’t too many lovely ladies around these parts.”
“And yeah, it can be awkward,” Colt rumbles. “But we roll with the punches, and generally, it turns out fine. They’re adults, we’re adults, and we know that the Blue Light is a special event that doesn’t extend beyond the walls of the club.”
I stare at them.
“So none of the girls have asked for more,” I state. “They’re okay with a one-time thing.”
The twins share another look.
“Oh, they can ask,” Cason begins. “It never hurts to ask.”
