Free Change by Jevenna Willow Page B

This meant, without words, get into his
office—immediately.
    Sara bit down on her lower lip, turned her head to her
other bartender, told the woman she would be back—potentially soon—and moved
toward the boss’s direction.
    He’d already gone inside the room.
    He was seated behind his desk when she entered the
lion’s domain.
    “Close the door,” he ordered.
    It was most unusual for the boss to call a bartender
from the masses on a Friday night for a quick conversation inside his office.
Generally, he would wait until after closing to tell the girls what he wanted
of them, or yell if they’d done something they were not supposed to do.
    Lace got the first of many reprimands from him last
night. She let one of her customers touch her. The rules clearly stated, to all
their guests, touching was not allowed. A man could look all he
wanted—but he wasn’t to touch unless truly desiring physical escort to the
door.
    None of his girls were to be touched by sex-starved
assholes with too much money in their pockets and hardened dicks in their
pants.
    He’d soundproofed the private rooms for a reason. The
groans and moans were to stay inside those four walls. He’d installed the safe
button for his higher-priced strippers. He knew what could happen. Sometimes it
did.
    Lace was lucky she’d gotten to the button. Things
could have been much worse for her had the creep pinned her to the opposite
wall, away from the safety mechanism.
    She’d left the building in tears after the lecture
given her last night. And not much ever gets to Lace to make her cry. Mr.
Griffen accomplished what others could not.
    Sara cautiously closed the door, knowing she hadn’t
done anything wrong for a closed-door meeting in the middle of the Friday rush,
or a potential tear-stained face.
    It took her boss a few minutes to start the
conversation. In all those minutes, he merely stared, making her extremely
uncomfortable by the unnatural silence.
    She became even more uncomfortable when he asked, with
meaning, “When was your last period?”
    His eyes waited for her answer.
    Sara could see his jaw was clenched tight. “My… what ?”
    Casey’s blue eyes hardened in on her faster than
expected. “You heard me.”
    “Um…yes. But I’m not quite sure what it should matter
to you,” she reasoned.
    Those hardened eyes narrowed into thin slits. “It just
does.”
    “My menses is none of your fucking business, Mr.
Griffen.”
    He glared, as if Sara being inside his office during
regular hours was her fault and not his. That nasty glare turned swiftly into a
sinful smile. “Well, if you do not remember…I will tell you when it was.”
    “You’ll what ?”
    The shock on her face must have been comical, for he
seemed all the more amused by her reaction.
    “You had your period eight days ago.”
    Sara put her hands on her hips. “Where, exactly, is this
conversation headed?”
    Casey wouldn’t deter from his thoughts, however. And
the sudden smile on his lips stated he didn’t give rat’s ass about her startled
fury.
     “Twelve days ago you were a real bitch.”
    “And?” she recklessly snapped at his face.
     “In another two days you are going to be as horny as
hell,” he continued.
    Sara felt like smacking this man over the head with a
huge brick. “And?” she baited.
    “And…in two days…you are going to dance for me.”
    When his words finally sunk in, Sara nearly jumped for
joy. A whole month… and he was finally going to let her use the pole! Then
the words sunk more fully into her brain and her joy dissipated in a hurried
rush. He’d said… for me. Not for paying customers.
    “And if I say no?” she bargained against.
    He was only allowing her the opportunity because of
one reason, and one reason only. Her menstrual cycle, the days she would be at
her best form. For what? The view she would certainly give him. Because it sure
as hell would not be for another finger fuck he’d likely punish her with if