Strip Search Read Online Free PDF Page A

the obscured glass, had his cock rising.
    Mark handed the waiter a twenty. "How do I get up there?"
    Empty tray in hand, he hesitated, looking undecided as he pushed his long, dark hair from his face. "I don't know, man. I could get fired."
    Without pause, Mark slid another twenty across the table. "How? I've never seen you before."
    Cutting his eyes toward Nicki's box, then the stage, and apparently relieved by what he saw, the waiter snapped up the second twenty dollar bill. "See the door behind the bar? It leads upstairs. Leon will take a break soon. Jeff, the other bartender, will be too busy trying to get laid to notice you."
    At a glance, Mark had no trouble discerning who was who. Leon mixed drinks with grim efficiency near the door that led up to Nicki's office. Jeff leaned in and smiled at a pretty brunette as he served a glass of wine farther down the bar.
    "Thanks," Mark said.
    He was talking to air. The waiter had long since gone.
    Impatience riding him, Mark stood and eased toward the center of the room. A handful of minutes later, Leon tapped Jeff on the shoulder and stepped out from behind the bar.
    Once assured of the fact Jeff was shaking a blonde's martini and trying to charm her out of her panties, Mark ducked behind the bar and quickly eased the mirrored door open. He shut it with a quiet click. No one followed.
    First hurdle down. Now for the bigger one: gaining Nicki's trust. Today, he had to keep his thoughts on disarming her enough to persuade her to hire him, not wondering what she smelled like when she was aroused. Not visualizing what she'd look like when he held her against a wall and impaled her on his cock. Not imagining her voice as she cried out his name while she came.
    Soon, though, all bets were off. Somehow, someway, he'd make sure he had the opportunity to satisfy his curiosity--and more.
    He crept up the stairs, marveling at how quiet it was above the chaos, then paused at the top of the landing. Here, the music was just a dull throb in the otherwise silent room.
    Mark stared down the terra-cotta tiled hall at the lone closed door. She was down there, in a darkened room, probably all alone. Just the way he wanted her. He crept down the hall, heart pounding, heat rising off of him like an inferno.
    Nicki made him hot. Denying it was as pointless as trying to stop a semi with a butterfly net. Her reaction to him during his audition made it clear she reciprocated. Hopefully, that would help him. If not, he'd find another way to earn her trust so he could persuade her to help him catch Blade Bocelli. He wouldn't give up until he had fucked up the gangster's life, much the way Bocelli had nearly ruined his. If using Nicki's desire turned out to be the most expedient means to achieve his goal, it was ugly ... but so be it. He'd just turn on the charm, persuade her to hire him, then be helpful, polite, sexy, caring, a bad boy ... whatever she needed in order to feel comfortable with him in her life, in her books--and in her bed.
    As Mark pushed the door open to her office and saw her standing in a shimmering black halter dress, most of her slender back bare, and dangling a pair of killer stilettos from her fingers, he acknowledged that the likelihood of him keeping his hands off Nicki was about the same as Eminem recording a gospel CD.
    "Knock, knock," he murmured, drinking in the sight of her in black silk.
    She whirled to face him, and the view sucker-punched him in the gut. Her halter top dipped low, displaying the soft valley between her breasts and a hint of the lush swells on either side. The fly of his jeans couldn't expand fast enough to comfortably encase his pike-hard cock. The woman was like a livewire to his libido. Would she object too loudly if he told her that he wanted to lift her sinfully short skirt, lay her across her cluttered desk and ride her until she screamed?
    Damn it, he needed to focus on business here.
    "Mark Gabriel?" she frowned, trying to peer through the dark. "How