Free Change by Jevenna Willow Page A

desires put fully
onto her, and not on anyone else.
    When the customers came into the club, this was all
they ever asked for—one sultry, incognito night. They wanted to leave the club
hot, sweaty, sex-starved and fully entertained by one of Griffen’s dancers who
could get them with a hard-on, panting, yet without any physical touch to
achieve the goal.
    Somehow, this thought must have been in her eyes,
because Casey took hold of Sara’s control and nearly ripped it out of her hand
by fury alone.
    “The only pole dance you will be doing for any man
will be for me! And until I say you are ready, you will not go anywhere near
the private rooms. Do I make myself clear?”
    Sara’s eyes widened.
    Did he just…?
    He wanted her to dance…for him?
    Casey added more, to make it clearer. “Yes, Mecenna.”
A sudden flare of his nostrils released the tremendous tension out of his face.
“I want your first dance to be for me.”
    Sara was too shocked to argue otherwise. So, he
finally could come clean with his desires? Well, wonders never ceased.
    “Don’t look so smug, Mecenna…because the more you push
me on this, the longer that day will come for you.”
    She gave her boss a huge smile. Not for what he wanted
it for, but for what she would be getting out of it. She did not speak; merely
nodded, backed away, and cautiously walked out the door. Once she closed the
panel—paycheck in hand—Sara could hear the loud curse and tossing of a whiskey
glass from his desk. The glass hit the back of the door and sounded as if it
had shattered.
    His temper made her smile, even more. Mr. Know-it-all, Mr. High and Mighty finally cracked, and she, the one who cracked
his hardened shell. But this was a crack not likely fixable for the foreseeable
future and Sara was running out of time.

 
     
    Chapter Five
     
    W hen a woman
cracks open the shell of man, who has fought tooth and nail for any crack never
to happen, odds are damaging acid will drip from the wound. Acid that could
burn deep.
    The deeper it burned, the harder it was to heal.
    Casey was fighting Sara tooth and nail on the deal
he’d made her—one night, one dance, all for him. He’d said nothing more about
it, and she did not push him—as he’d asked.
    Thankfully, Sara knew when to burn her candles at both
ends, and when to blow them out. Simple enough, the timing hadn’t been right.
    But it was four weeks ago when the offer was made. The
only time Casey would even look at her now was when he handed her a paycheck.
Otherwise, it was a quick glance, an even quicker turn of the head, and
definitely not much in the way of conversation. She would leave the club when
her shift done. He wouldn’t stay any longer than necessary to avoid
confrontation with her.
    Therefore, it was a huge surprise when he suddenly
walked right up to the bar and ordered a drink from her, and not one of his
other bartenders.
    Sara made Casey a dry scotch. Not his preference, but
then he hadn’t said what he really wanted, so how was she to know. He said
something stiff…and cold. Five ice cubes should have been cold enough for the
man. Sara put six in the glass. She hadn’t dared comment stiff was not his
pecker and cold was the degree of her patience—though this very thing on her
mind for weeks.
    Casey grabbed the drink from her fingers, downed it,
and gave her a wry smile. He plunked the glass back onto his bar, then walked
back to his office, head held high.
    Sara’s eyes glued to his scrumptious backside. When he
turned so swiftly, she had to check her body’s reaction to what her sordid
thoughts had been. She was physically dying to see Mr. Griffen’s naked
backside. She couldn’t help it that she had a huge thing for a man’s ass. The
more muscle, the more interested she was, and the more her fingers pulsated
with dangerous desire to touch every square inch of it until consumed by need.
    Her eyes moved slowly to his. Casey pointed to her,
then to his office, then to his watch.