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  • Home > Chelle Bliss > Men of Inked > Uncover Me (Page 9)     
    Uncover Me(Men of Inked #6) by Chelle Bliss
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    He grabbed his shirt off the floor, where I’d dropped it the night before. “Eh, those assholes can wait for me,” he muttered as he pulled it on, adjusted himself, and rose to his feet.

    “We all wait for you, Blue.” I gave him one last quick kiss on the lips before I opened my closet to slip on a robe.

    “Talk later?” he asked, yanking on his boots.

    “Yeah. Now go.”

    He nodded with a smile and headed for my bedroom door. Before he disappeared, I slapped him on the ass. His loud laughter echoed as he closed the door and walked down the hallway.

    Collapsing onto the bed, I let myself finally breathe. I felt like I’d been holding the air in my lungs since we’d sat on my patio last night. Then I closed my eyes, said a little prayer, thanked God, and fell back to sleep.

    Before I went on stage, I checked my phone, but there was still no message from Blue. I wanted nothing more than to text him, but I didn’t want to be that girl. Being needy was outside my comfort zone, but he had my head all fucked up and twisted.

    After analyzing my makeup, I plastered on a fake smile before I headed for the door. No guy wants to throw money at a stripper with a sad face. I didn’t want to seduce the men, but I wanted to captivate them enough that they’d feel inclined to offer up some of their hard-earned cash.

    “Hey, Foxy,” I said, stepping toward the stage.

    She counted her last bill and looked up with a smile. “Hey, Roxy. You’re looking—”

    I held up my hand. “Don’t say it. I know I look like shit.”

    “Get it together, mama. It’s a good crowd tonight. Best tips I’ve had in a long time.”

    I sighed, knowing she was right. Keeping my work and personal life separate was a must. The men came here to feel like I wanted them. They were here for a show, and come hell or high water, I’d give it to them.

    “Game face.” I giggled as I tried to give her a sexy I-want-to-fuck-you look.

    “Close enough.” She laughed as she shook her head. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

    “Catch ya when my set is done.” I waved as she walked away and I headed toward the stage.

    I stood behind the curtain, listening to my introduction. Pushing back my shoulders, I gave myself a pep talk.

    I can do this shit. They are here to see me. Pretend you’re giving a show only to Blue. Every man in the audience is him—no one else.

    Once I heard my name, I stepped past the curtain. Then I took the stage, commanded their attention, and let myself think of only him. Clearing my mind, I gave the number my all, climbing the pole, twirling in the air, and bending myself in ways that weren’t natural.

    Catcalls and whistles were easy to block out over the sound of “Buttons” by the Pussycat Dolls. The three minutes and forty-six seconds seemed to pass quicker than normal as I thought about Blue. When the number ended and the men clapped, I bowed and quickly grabbed the bills scattered about the stage before heading to the dressing room.

    I didn’t care about counting my tips. The only thing I wanted to do was check my phone. But the screen was blank as I pressed the “on” button. Sighing to myself, I tossed the phone on my station.

    “Hot date?” Foxy asked, fixing her lip gloss in the mirror.

    “I was hoping for a call.” I plopped my ass in the chair, kicking off my heels to rub my feet.

    “They always say they’ll call.” She smacked her lips together and hoisted her tits higher in her red cutout bra.

    “He’s different.”

    He is, damn it. He wasn’t like the other pricks and perverts sitting in the club tonight. He was a gentleman. Treating me with respect, he showed me softness and made me feel important.

    I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to determine if I was full of shit.

    “Don’t fool yourself, babe. You’ll have a lot of disappointment if you do.”

    “I’m aware of how most men are. He’s not like that, Fox.”

    She walked behind me, looking at me in the mirror. “If you say so, kid.” Then she squeezed my shoulder, a sad smile on her face.

    “Foxy, I know how most men are, but Blue is different.”

    “Ahhh,” she said as she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Blue.” She hung on his name like she knew him intimately.

    My stomach turned at the thought of him with another woman. I wasn’t a fool. I knew he probably had a handful of girls he’d spent his nights with in the last month. Hell, it could be in the double digits.

    He wasn’t mine.

    I had no claim on him.

    “Have you—” I started to say before she held up her hand.

    “With Blue? Never.”

    “But you know him?”

    “Every girl does, Roxy.”

    “They do?” I asked, shocked by her admission. “Are people talkin’ shit?”

    She laughed, shaking her head. “Who’s dumb enough to talk shit about Blue?”

    “You tell me. You’re the one who made the statement.”

    “Girls talk, babe. Trust me—every girl in here has tried with him.”

    “What?” My mouth gaped open.

    “They’ve all hit on him. All asked to go home with him. But the answer is always the same.”

    “Which is?”

    I mean, what the fuck? Why couldn’t she just spill it? I swear she got off on driving other women crazy.

    “He always tells them no.” She grabbed my hair, playing with it in her hands as she kept her eyes locked on mine.

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