Free Iron Rods: 1 (Strip Club) by Brenna Zinn

You cannot control or boss me around.”
    She could tell just how much he was upsetting her by the
thickening of her Southern drawl. Instead of sounding like the educated woman
she truly was, she probably sounded like some kind of hick to his urbane ears,
which only frustrated her more. She may have grown up around the barren oil
fields of West Texas in a family poor as dirt, but she was every bit as good as
Bennett Truitt. Damn right she was. The trick now centered on making sure he
knew that.
    Her back stiffened by pride, Tatum jumped from the stage and
walked within a foot of Bennett’s imposing frame. “That’s not going to be a
problem, is it, Slick?”
    The corner of his mouth twitched. He drained his drink and
placed the glass on a table with a distinct thud . “Not at all. Lyle
hadn’t gotten around to clarifying what he meant when he made me responsible
for you. We seem to have two different understandings of that phrase. Little
surprise there.” He offered a devilish smile that accentuated his square jaw
and the flawless symmetry of his face. “My apologies.”
    His tone was so cool and controlled, she couldn’t decide if
he meant what he said or had simply uttered the words to pacify her. “Apology
accepted, I think.” Tatum regarded him speculatively and made the mistake of
glancing into his baby blues. Pure temptation resided there. She swallowed hard
only to find every bit of moisture had vanished from her throat.
    Bennett rubbed the five o’clock shadow on his chin. “So I’m
not your supervisor? Only someone you work with?” He spoke more in abstract
thought than actually asking questions. His gaze raked over her, making her
feel completely naked.
    She had remembered to put her shirt back on, hadn’t she?
    “No. Yes.” The sensual blend of heat and testosterone his
masculine body emitted confused her senses. She couldn’t think straight. She
mentally shook her head, reminding herself to form complete sentences like a
sensible person. “I mean no, you aren’t my supervisor. Yes, you’re only a
coworker. And don’t get any ideas now that you’ve seen me strutting around in
my underwear. If you think I’m easy, then you’d better think again.”
    “Trust me, I wouldn’t dream of thinking about you in that
way.”
    The words sounded like a compliment, but his dry delivery
suggested just the opposite.
    Exasperation coiled and hissed in her belly like an
irritated hognose snake. The man’s ability to pique her desire while simultaneously
provoking her ire went beyond frustrating. Why, if it weren’t for his
exceptional good looks, she’d…she’d… Well, she’d do something other than stand
around like a moonstruck teenager.
    “Good. I’m glad we got that straight,” she grumbled. “Let’s
get started.” Glancing to the right and left, she realized she had left all her
belongings up in the DJ stand. Another reminder of her act of stupidity on the
stage witnessed by Bennett.
    “I need to gather my things. They’re up there.” She forced a
smile and pointed to the booth. “I’ll be just a minute.”
    He nodded. “I took the liberty of arranging a meeting with
the club staff this afternoon. They should be here in about an hour. I want to
give them a chance to meet you and hear your ideas from your lips before they
hear about them from someone else.”
    Luckily she stood on the top step as he delivered his
bombshell, preventing him from seeing the look of exasperation she knew covered
her face. Good Lord. She was meeting the entire staff in an hour?
    Lyle had been right. When it came to business, Bennett
didn’t let any grass grow beneath his feet. The sweet old man had also warned
her that his son would push her, test her and try to shake her composure. She
just hadn’t anticipated Bennett moving this quickly.
    She gathered her things and carefully climbed down the steps
before slinging her purse over her shoulder. “Great idea. Thank you for your
thoughtful consideration.