never once showed any emotion. Tyler had absolutely no expression on his face, but that didn’t seem to bother any one of his adoring public.
Then he turned to face her. Their gazes met and the bottom simply dropped out of her stomach. His eyes, hot and dark, just barely visible beneath the brim of his black Stetson, seared her right through to her soul.
He lifted his chin a notch as if daring her to comment on the fact that he stood before a group of wild women in a pair of spandex underwear. Body-hugging spandex that lovingly caressed each and every muscle of his sculpted backside. Lord above, he had abs to die for too, with roped muscles leading beneath the elastic band riding low on his hips. He sparked a series of fantasies Emily had had in mind for some time, just waiting for the right man to share them with. Her fingers itched to caress, her hands to grab a hold of him and not let go until she’d gone through her imaginative repertoire.
“He cannot be real,” Emily whispered as the image of the handsome hunk spread eagle on her bed, eyes hot with passion, wrists securely tied to her bedposts roared through her.
“He’s all too real.” Jolene sighed. “And mad as hell.”
The image faded with the music. Tyler tipped his hat to the crowd and swept his chaps from the floor. Flipping them over his shoulder, he strode off stage as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Emily had seen that expression on her cousin’s face before. “We’ll face him together, Jolene. I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him taking out his anger on us.”
“How do you know?” Jolene asked walking toward the door at the side of the stage.
Emily shrugged. “I’ve got a feeling about him. He might yell some though.”
The stage door burst open a few moments later. Emily had forgotten just how tall he was; he towered over Jolene, and her cousin had a good three inches in height over Emily.
Tyler looked like a storm cloud about to explode with thunder and lightning. “You never said anything about women shoving their hands down my shorts and taking a layer of skin off my dick with their claws!”
Emily hadn’t expected anyone to be that bold or that Tyler would be hurt. She felt his pain.
“I had no idea anyone would try anything like that.” Jolene kept her voice even, her tone soothing.
“One of your customers broke your rules,” Tyler ground out.
“I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault—” Jolene began.
The anger and tension coiling within the big man had Jolene backing up into Emily, yet he only pushed his hat to the back of his head, and his expression changed from visibly angry to one of cold arrogance. “It’s your club… your rules.”
Emily looked at her cousin and was catapulted back in time to the day the Stalter brothers cornered little eight-year-old Jolene on the playground. She hugged her cousin and marched forward, drilling the tip of her pointer finger into Tyler’s rock-hard chest. “It’s our club and the rules usually work for our dancers and the club.”
Tyler’s gaze swung from Jolene to Emily and her heart kicked into overdrive. The anger swirling in the depths of his velvet brown eyes changed to an untamed emotion, something dark, dangerous, and compelling.
Emily couldn’t look away. He blinked, and for a split second, she saw his face contort in anguish. He blinked a second time and it was gone, leaving the heady mix of anger and passion that called to her on an elemental level as deeply as the anguish she’d seen there.
Tyler Garahan was a man of many levels, and Emily planned to discover each and every one.
“Your shift’s not over.” Jolene’s voice was soft but firm. “Are you going back on your word?”
Tyler’s anger seemed to dissipate. He shook his head. “Once a Garahan gives his word, you can count on him to keep it.”
“You looked like you were getting ready to walk.”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry, Jolene. I’m not used to being
Then he turned to face her. Their gazes met and the bottom simply dropped out of her stomach. His eyes, hot and dark, just barely visible beneath the brim of his black Stetson, seared her right through to her soul.
He lifted his chin a notch as if daring her to comment on the fact that he stood before a group of wild women in a pair of spandex underwear. Body-hugging spandex that lovingly caressed each and every muscle of his sculpted backside. Lord above, he had abs to die for too, with roped muscles leading beneath the elastic band riding low on his hips. He sparked a series of fantasies Emily had had in mind for some time, just waiting for the right man to share them with. Her fingers itched to caress, her hands to grab a hold of him and not let go until she’d gone through her imaginative repertoire.
“He cannot be real,” Emily whispered as the image of the handsome hunk spread eagle on her bed, eyes hot with passion, wrists securely tied to her bedposts roared through her.
“He’s all too real.” Jolene sighed. “And mad as hell.”
The image faded with the music. Tyler tipped his hat to the crowd and swept his chaps from the floor. Flipping them over his shoulder, he strode off stage as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Emily had seen that expression on her cousin’s face before. “We’ll face him together, Jolene. I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him taking out his anger on us.”
“How do you know?” Jolene asked walking toward the door at the side of the stage.
Emily shrugged. “I’ve got a feeling about him. He might yell some though.”
The stage door burst open a few moments later. Emily had forgotten just how tall he was; he towered over Jolene, and her cousin had a good three inches in height over Emily.
Tyler looked like a storm cloud about to explode with thunder and lightning. “You never said anything about women shoving their hands down my shorts and taking a layer of skin off my dick with their claws!”
Emily hadn’t expected anyone to be that bold or that Tyler would be hurt. She felt his pain.
“I had no idea anyone would try anything like that.” Jolene kept her voice even, her tone soothing.
“One of your customers broke your rules,” Tyler ground out.
“I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault—” Jolene began.
The anger and tension coiling within the big man had Jolene backing up into Emily, yet he only pushed his hat to the back of his head, and his expression changed from visibly angry to one of cold arrogance. “It’s your club… your rules.”
Emily looked at her cousin and was catapulted back in time to the day the Stalter brothers cornered little eight-year-old Jolene on the playground. She hugged her cousin and marched forward, drilling the tip of her pointer finger into Tyler’s rock-hard chest. “It’s our club and the rules usually work for our dancers and the club.”
Tyler’s gaze swung from Jolene to Emily and her heart kicked into overdrive. The anger swirling in the depths of his velvet brown eyes changed to an untamed emotion, something dark, dangerous, and compelling.
Emily couldn’t look away. He blinked, and for a split second, she saw his face contort in anguish. He blinked a second time and it was gone, leaving the heady mix of anger and passion that called to her on an elemental level as deeply as the anguish she’d seen there.
Tyler Garahan was a man of many levels, and Emily planned to discover each and every one.
“Your shift’s not over.” Jolene’s voice was soft but firm. “Are you going back on your word?”
Tyler’s anger seemed to dissipate. He shook his head. “Once a Garahan gives his word, you can count on him to keep it.”
“You looked like you were getting ready to walk.”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry, Jolene. I’m not used to being
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