Free Hot Bouncer by Cheryl Dragon Page B

Keeping his attention on the crowd and not the dancers was his job and easy enough until the first group of dancers was done. The second group of men included the sexy man Nash was drawn to.
    That blond, slender man seemed to light up on stage. Nash had ignored the intense blue eyes and pale skin earlier. Peter—that was his name. Peter was a pretty guy who looked young. While he was just Nash’s type, the last thing the bouncer needed was to get involved with anyone. He had a plan for being back on the civilian side again. Work, security, and finding an outlet to let go of his stress. He fit into the military perfectly, but handling the actual combat experiences he’d buried wouldn’t happen overnight.
    Nash’s job was to keep guys like Peter safe, not screw their brains out. That’d probably get Nash fired. Besides, Peter likely had a boyfriend. Nash turned his attention to a table of two middle-aged women drinking far too much. They’d started off happily watching the show, but now they were shouting for the men to come down and sit on their laps.
    When one tried to climb up on the table, Nash moved in. She kicked a glass, and it shattered on the floor. One of the bartenders sprang into action, cleaning up the shards of glass. Nash tangled with the customers.
    “I think we’ve had enough.” Nash led the blonde by the arm, but the redhead stayed up on the table.
    “Take your clothes off!” she said.
    “No.” He grabbed her legs and tipped her forward. She gasped and landed over his shoulder with his arm holding her securely. He marched them to the door. She grabbed his ass, but he ignored the touching and steered her friend into a cab before putting the redhead on her feet.
    “You should smile and show us your stuff.” The redhead shoved a five-dollar bill in his jeans.
    “You might want to drink a little less. Have a good night.” Nash guided her into the cab and closed the door as she rattled off the hotel she was headed back to.
    He patted the top of the cab, and it pulled away from the curb. A few more taxis waited for the inevitable flow of drunken patrons, and Nash was glad to see ready, safe transportation for unruly and well-behaved drinkers alike.
    As he walked back into the Big D’s women’s entrance, he got a nod from the bartender. Nash followed the other man’s gaze and spotted a man who had sneaked into the crowd and was sitting at a table in a corner on the side of the stage. He was in a trench coat and sunglasses.
    If the bartender was concerned, that meant he wasn’t part of the act. Nash glanced over the rest of the crowd and saw everything was under control. Calmly, he headed up the side and tapped the guy on the shoulder. The creep jumped up, and Nash grabbed him by the arm. When the guy tried to get away, Nash twisted his arm until the guy winced.
    Marching him outside, Nash pulled the glasses off the guy. “What are you doing?”
    “Relax; I just want to see the show.” The guy tried to wiggle free. “Let me go.”
    “Not yet. There is a side for male customers. Are you stalking your girlfriend?” Nash asked.
    “No. I’m not a stalker. I’m just a fan. My favorite dancer was on this side tonight. It’s not a problem,” he insisted.
    “I say what’s a problem, and there are no men on this side.” Nash let the guy go and studied his face. Black hair, green eyes, pale skin, average height and build. “Stick to the right side of the club.”
    “Fine. It’s not a crime to be a fan. Peter appreciates his fans. Will you give him these letters?” The guy pulled a stack of envelopes from his pocket.
    “No. I’m not a messenger.” Nash shook his head.
    “Repeat customers keep this place going. Pays your salary. Who do you think you are?” The guy puffed out his chest.
    “Owners pay me to keep the things in line and enforce the rules. You got bounced. Go in the right side or go home.” Nash pulled out his cell phone and snapped a picture of the guy just in