“I thought you wanted a job?” he asked with a shake of his head.

“Can’t I just dance out front?” I whispered in desperation.

“Look, Reanna obviously thought you’d be a good asset here. You have the looks and if you want to work here, great. All you have to do is follow the rules I just outlined and do as you’re told. If this isn’t the life you want, I suggest you get moving. I don’t have time to waste on you if you aren’t serious.” He stood from the desk and made to walk towards the door.

My bottom lip quivered and tears fill my eyes. Images of Sophie crying over her empty stomach swam in front of me. Tears began falling down my cheeks in earnest because I was utterly hopeless and there was nothing I could do to take care of my daughter the way she needed me to.

Sure, I could continue to work for Malachi and eventually have enough money to fix the car or even buy another junker, but she would suffer in the meantime. Generic food, worn clothes, broken toys, no money to do anything exciting, and heat when I could swing it wasn’t something I wanted for my daughter. Plus, I wouldn’t always be able to take her with me to work and I couldn’t afford a sitter. Ruth had been more than kind in helping me whenever she could, but she had Mikey to worry about as well.

“Please,” I begged Ghost just as he was about to open the door. “You’re my last hope. My husband’s in jail and I can’t afford to feed my daughter. I’m one step away from having to live out of my car. It’s no life for a child.”

After staring at me for several seconds, he muttered something under his breath about how he was sick of bitches tripping. It didn’t sound promising for me with the hard glare he had pointed in my direction, which only served to have another set of fresh tears spilling down my cheeks. Next thing I knew, he was walking back to the desk and pressing a button on the phone.

“What?” A deep, sharp and masculine voice rang out over the speaker.

“Got a situation here,” Ghost answered with a blank look on his face.

“Don’t I pay you to handle situations?” The disembodied voice was even sharper if that was possible.

“You’re going to want to see this one for yourself,” was Ghost’s vague response to that.

Without replying, the unknown man disconnected the phone. I stared in disbelief when Ghost rounded the desk and perched on the arm of the sofa again as if he hadn’t just been hung up on.

Before I could ask what was happening, the door behind me opened. I spun around, realizing I was still mostly nude, and came face-to-face with the most brutally scary, intensely beautiful man I had ever seen in my life.

My mouth hung open as I took in the sight of the man standing in the doorway.

He was easily six foot three, with black hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed as if they saw right through me. His facial features were hard and masculine, like that of a gladiator—strong jaw, straight nose, high cheekbones. And good lord, he was built. His muscles were barely contained by the blue dress shirt that covered his upper body. And through his black suit pants, I could see large, muscular thighs.

“Please don’t tell me this is the situation,” he said to Ghost in an infuriated tone.

“Sure is.” Ghost’s grin stretched across his face and if I knew any better, I’d say he thought the whole situation was amusing, which only served to take me from self-pity to straight out pissed off. Nothing about a single mother struggling to make ends meet was funny in my opinion.

I narrowed my eyes and opened my mouth to curse when the man shut the door behind him, drawing my attention back towards him. He really was a fine specimen of eye candy. Muscles in my lower belly clenched at the unbidden thought of his large body over mine.

“Why the fuck did you bother me with this?” the man snapped, clearly pissed off and not finding the situation amusing either.

“She wants to dance out front,” Ghost explained.

“All the girls dance out front,” the man replied in agitation.

“She only wants to dance out front,” Ghost further explained.

A bark of disbelief came from the man’s lips, and he turned his full attention to me. “What makes you think you’re better than the other girls here?”

“I… I don’t,” I stammered. His gaze was hard and his eyes were cold as they raked over my body with precision.

“Then bend over and show me what you’re working with or get the fuck out.”

The color drained from my face at his harsh words, even as those muscles tightened again in anticipation. This was insane. No way could I possibly be this turned on by a stranger who was a complete asshole.

And in the end isn’t that exactly what Kevin ended up being? A stranger and complete asshole? My inner voice taunted me.

“Who do you think you are coming in here and demanding me to bend over like I’m nothing more than a piece of meat?” I demanded. I was in full-on defensive mode. I hated being talked about like I wasn’t in the room, and I despised being treated like a piece of shit.

He closed the distance between us until he was so close his breath caressed the skin on my cheek. My heart galloped wildly in my chest at being this close to him. I had to fight the urge to lean forward, bury my nose in his neck and sniff his collar when his woodsy scent wafted around me.

“Don’t you ever question who the fuck I am. I’m motherfucking God as far as you’re concerned. No one steps into my den and shows me disrespect. No one. You got that?” His tone held a razor-sharp edge that I felt lash at my skin with each word.

“Yes,” I squeaked out, my head bobbing up and down in concurrence. If I’d thought Ghost was scary before, he had nothing on this man. He was on a whole other level from scary. The word scary would be closer to describing a tiny little bunny than it would be to describing him.

Coherent thoughts flew out of my head when I felt his hand on my hip. His touch was a hot brand against my skin, making my breath come in harsh pants. His proximity was breaking down all my defenses and making me feel like a bitch in heat.

The material of my thong tightened against my skin right before I heard the material rip. I looked down in disbelief at the torn lace dangling from his large hand.

Holy shit. He destroyed my underwear… with one hand.

On the one hand, I couldn’t believe he’d done that. On the other, I found it to be an incredible turn-on.

What was wrong with me?

“Now bend over and show me your pussy,” he demanded, knocking some sense back into me with his callous words.

“No,” I said more breathlessly than I wanted.

“If you want to work here, then I damn well will know what the fuck I’m selling.” His empty hand gripped my hair and tugged my head back. It was a move to elicit fear, but all it did was awaken a deep need inside me to be dominated by this man. My teeth sank into my lip in an effort to hold back a moan that was working its way up my throat. Looking into his mesmerizing gaze, I would have done just about anything he wanted me to at that moment.

The feeling passed just as quickly as it came when he impatiently bit out, “This is a whorehouse, so either bend your pretty little ass over or get the fuck out.”

I knew this was my last chance. Even though the man in front of me both disgusted me and drove me to complete lust, staying away from him was not going to be an option. Even if it was the most logical and rational thing to do.

My only real choice for a happy ending somewhere down the line was to succumb to the pressure and do what I had to do to survive. I’d had a big dose of reality at a very early age after I lost everyone I loved. Spending my teenage years in foster care, I’d learned firsthand the lengths people would go to tear you down and what needed to be done to beat the odds. And there was no doubt in my mind I needed to beat the odds.