Fletch has charm, Fletch has charisma, and Fletch has moves. He turns dreams into reality two nights a week, baring his body to lonely women, bored housewives, and bachelorettes looking for that one last good time. He’s into one-night stands, one-time things, and he never, ever gets serious.
Tiffy Preston is looking for commitment.
A billionaire’s daughter with the world at her fingertips, Tiffy’s in Lake Tahoe to take over her father’s hotel and clean up the Mountain Men Male Revue Show. She’s well-bred, polite, and hates everything Fletcher represents.
But Fletcher offers Tiffy something she can’t refuse—total satisfaction and the man of her dreams. All she has to do is… everything he tells her.
Because Sexy doesn’t sell… it’s for sale.
Sexy is a full-length, standalone novel by New York Times Bestselling author, JA Huss.
Chandler cues us with his intro and then the curtain lifts up. The spotlights are going wild on us. Smoke, some flames for good measure, and the smell of chicks in heat get me pumped for the finale. We walk out on stage together. All the guys have ditched their costumes and they’re all dressed like me. If you can call ratty jeans and boots a costume.
I’ve done studies on what the ladies like, and this getup is it.
We break into our dance when the thumping turns to music and the screaming starts. Some of them are practically begging for attention. Chandler whips his shirt off—this is his only act since the new girl put her foot down—and since he’s been here the longest and has the most promo time, he gets an extra enthusiastic cheer he joins in off to the side.
Then the spotlights begin weaving around the crowd. This is my favorite moment. The moment when I get to choose. The moment filled with tonight’s possibilities.
I zone in on that redhead who caught my t-shirt off to the left. She lifts her shirt up, showing her tits. But she’s looking at Mitch like she wants to suck his cock right here, right now. So I move on. There’s a blonde in the back, standing on a table, weaving her hips like she’s way too familiar with this job I’m doing. Stripper. I’m not into strippers.
That makes me grin with the irony.
Another blonde off to the right is waving a fistful of twenties at Chandler. He’s not looking to get laid by anyone here. He’s got his girl and he’s happy with her. But I don’t like being second choice.
I look down the center of the stage and find the girl who said no earlier. She’s sipping a drink that might be gin, or vodka, or hell, water for all I know. Her gay BFF is having way too much fun as she sits there stoically. Steve is gay, and it’s pretty apparent when he does his act since it’s to the YMCA tune. So I’m pretty sure her BFF’s got his eye on him.
But that girl. She is blank. Like no expression.
I feel a little surge of adrenaline just thinking of her refusal. Not many people tell me no. And it’s been a long while since I heard that word from a girl in the crowd after an invite to come on stage.
So she’s my target when Chandler gives the cue for us to go find our last pick of the night. We go in order. First Steve, who can’t pick a dude even if he wanted to because this is a ladies’ night kinda gig. He hits up a cougar, like he always does.
Bill goes for grannies. He likes to make them blush and he gets a kick out of sticking their hands down his pants.
I head right to suit girl. She sees me coming and shakes her head no, but I’m in control. That last girl might’ve got a kiss in, but I am in control. I dance around her table, flirting with all the other girls as they stuff their dollars into my pockets, trying to cop a feel. One girl manages to get her hand inside the waistband of my jeans, but I grab it and rub it up against my lower stomach so she doesn’t get far.
I weave back and forth in the middle of the audience, playing with ten or twelve women before the spotlight finally lands on me. And then I run straight towards suit girl who is too busy checking her watch to notice until I jump up, my boots clanking down on the bottom rung on either side of her bar stool, and grab her hair.
She looks up at me in shock, her mouth open, her eyes wide, and her head tilted up.
I am instantly hard.
“What are you doing?” she squeals.
“Yeah,” the gay BFF screams. “Woohoo! Get him, Tiffy!”
I laugh at her name and then lean down into her ear as my hips gyrate back and forth, brushing against her thighs. “Tiffy,” I growl in a gruff voice. “I’d have pegged you for a Jane or a Ruth. Something serious and boring.”
“Get off me,” she growls back.
“I’m not on you, sweetheart.” And I’m not. I’m still standing on those chair rungs, hovering. But I let go of her head and point to my abs. “You wanna lick me?” I laugh.
“I do!” another girl says, jumping up and down with a fistful of dollars off to her right. “I do!”
“Come on, Tiffy. Lick me. Everyone wants to lick these abs. Just open your mouth a little wider and I’ll crash these rock-hard muscles into that sweet wet tongue.”
Her BFF plants her hand on my hip, and she turns her head away from me to yell at him. I take her other hand and place it over the length of my cock. She gasps, tries to pull away, but I am focused on her now. Winning her over. Getting her attention. And hopefully meeting her after the show for some fun because she’s damn cute.
Plus… I’m getting hard under her touch, reluctant as it is.
She freezes when she realizes what’s happening, so I grip her hand tighter, forcing her to squeeze me. “Fuck, yeah, Tiffy. You feel good. Where you staying tonight? Here?”
She swallows hard, still holding onto my cock, even though I’ve eased up on her hand. Then she nods.
“What room, sweetheart? I’ll drop by later.”
“Penthouse Three!” the BFF screams. “Penthouse Three!”
I laugh at him as I lean down and breathe into Tiffy’s ear. She shivers and her shoulder automatically comes up to push me away. But her hand is still on my cock. “Jesus, you better answer the door, because I like the way that feels.”
Then I jump up, my boots finding the top rung of her stool, grab her head, and smash her face into my cock. Her hot breath beats against the soft denim of my pants, and just when I think my dick can’t get any harder, it grows for her.
Her eyes dart up to mine and I see so many things. Vulnerability first. Then surprise. Then fear. She pushes me back and I jump off, letting all the other girls around me get their share as they fill my pockets with money.
I give a wink and she looks away—ashamed, or embarrassed, or both.
JA Huss is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty romances. She likes stories about family, loyalty, and extraordinary characters who struggle with basic human emotions while dealing with bigger than life problems. JA loves writing heroes who make you swoon, heroines who makes you jealous, and the perfect Happily Ever After ending.
You can chat with her on Facebook (www.facebook.com/AuthorJAHuss), Twitter (@jahuss), and her kick-ass romance blog, New Adult Addiction (www.newadultaddiction.com).
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