“Strip?” She smirks. “Just that? I can do better than that. Why don"t you turn on the music? I’ll dance for you.”
I lean back, sipping my beer. “Why would I do that?”
“Oh, King… You"ve been dealing with little girls and amateurs. I was a professional.”
“And what does that mean?”
The smile doesn’t fade. “Put on the music.” She slides close, laying a hand up my chest, then slips onto my lap. “Why don"t you let me show you what I can do? My husband loves it when I dance.”
loves“Husband? Are we talking about that blond motherfucker you’re shacked up with? You telling me he married a hooker?”
Husband?married“Yes, he did.”
“Knocks you about, I suppose. He"s a bad bastard that one.”
Her eyes narrow. “Yes, he is.”
“He your pimp too? That why he married you? So he’s got the income?”
Her s
