She gave up stripping to go legit…until three Kiowa cowboys bring on the down-and-dirty.
Jackson Gray Wolf is turning thirty, and what does he have to show for it? A ranch. No wife, no kids, no dates. He’s had his eye on the pretty owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon, but their one accidental encounter was interrupted before he could get her out of her take-me-now red cowboy boots.
Audrey Anderson isn’t in the market for a man. Been there, done that, has the scars to prove it. She retired her pole-dancing boots after purchasing the Ugly Stick Saloon, and now manages a stable of strippers. When she winds up one stripper short for a private party, she’s forced to slip on a mask and into the role of the mysterious Kiki.
Jackson didn’t want the birthday bash his twin brothers are throwing him, but his vow to ignore the rented stripper goes awry when she shows him exactly how far she’s willing to go—for all three of them.
Audrey can’t forget the sizzling heat between her and one sexy Kiowa in particular. Jackson. Trouble is, she’s not sure if he wants the bold, brassy Kiki, or if he’s ready for the wounded woman underneath.
“What’s got you down, Jackson?” Audrey plunked a cup of coffee in front of him and leaned over the counter, her brow wrinkled into a frown. “You haven’t been yourself lately.”
“Who said there’s somethin’ wrong?” He curled his fingers around the mug, letting the heat warm him.
“You used to be out there dancing with the twins like it was some kind of race.”
“I’m gettin’ too old for that nonsense.”
She straightened, her brows rising into the fringe of strawberry-blonde hair hanging down over her forehead. “Hey, if you’re gettin’ too old, what does that make me? A hag?”
Jackson’s gaze went to the V of Audrey’s blouse where the rounded curves of her breasts pushed up. “Far from it, baby.”
She tapped his hand. “Hey, the eyes are up here.”
A grin stretched Jackson’s lips wide, and he glanced up into Audrey’s baby-blue eyes. “I know that, but the view was better where I was at.”
“Jerk.” Despite her word, her eyes danced.
A customer leaned against the bar and ordered two whisky shooters. Audrey turned to the array of bottles lining the wall behind the bar and reached for the brand of whisky the man had asked for. No skinny minny, Audrey had a curvy ass encased in skin-hugging, washed-out jeans. An ass a man could get his hands on.
Jackson’s groin tightened. Now here was a real woman, the kind he could sink his…er…teeth into.
Audrey’s snug jeans molded to the curve of her butt and thighs, narrowing down the length of her long, beautiful legs to tuck neatly into go-to-hell, bright red cowboy boots, which sported diamond-shaped metal studs. She wore those boots just about everywhere.
Born and raised in the Texas panhandle, Audrey knew what Jackson knew—the only way to get what you wanted was to work hard and maybe break a few well-chosen rules along the way. And she’d done just that to get this bar started. Modeled after the Coyote Ugly bar in New York City, Audrey had hired only the pretty waitresses who could dance, some who could sing and all of which could sling drinks like a pro. As a side, she provided strippers, both male and female, for private parties, bachelorette parties and special occasions.
Tough but fair is what each of her girls would say about her. And the tips were good, so none of them complained about Audrey’s hard-line approach. And to think, Audrey had accomplished all that in her twenties. She’d beat Jackson to thirty last year, celebrating her birthday with the two-year anniversary of the Ugly Stick Saloon. It had been a big blowout party with a live band, cheap beer and free rides home to those who couldn’t drive themselves.
She had this bar-owner thing down like it was second nature. Some men found it intimidating. Jackson thought Audrey was sexy as hell. He’d toyed with the idea of asking her out, only to talk himself out of it too many times to count, always waiting for the right moment, the right situation. That right moment had never happened. Now, it felt like he’d missed his chance.
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