Buying the Dancer by Stella Stone

Author:Stella Stone [Stone, Stella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hayley Faiman

CHAPTER ELEVEN

STASSIA

* * *

The club is fancy. Fancier than any place I’ve been in my life, other than Whitaker’s home. He pulls up to the front and a man appears, opening my door. Slipping my palm in his, I shift out of the car as ladylike as possible.

Before I can even straighten, Whitaker is there at my side. I watch as he hands the man his keys as he slides his hand along the bare skin at my back.

“Ready,” he rasps against my ear.

My entire body breaks out into goosebumps. I wonder if I am, indeed, ready? I don’t feel like I am. In fact, I want to run back to my turret. Instead of saying that, I only nod.

Together, we walk up to the main doors. Whitaker opens the door for me, and then follows closely behind, as we walk inside. I suck in a breath, keeping my eyes focused on the carpeting in front of me.

“Mr. Sullivan,” a soft voice purrs.

Looking up I see the girl behind the podium give Whitaker a wink. “Will you have Barney call me to add an authorized person on my account?” he asks.

My head snaps over to him and the girl’s eyes widen. “Um, yes, sir. Who do you need added?” she asks.

Whitaker’s hand wraps all the way around my waist and he gently pulls me closer to his side. My breath hitches when his lips touch the top of my head. “My girlfriend, Stassia.”

“Last name?” the woman asks.

Her eyes narrow slightly for just a moment, before she wipes the look off of her face, and replaces it with her fake smile. Whitaker’s hand flexes against my side.

Clearing my throat, I meet her gaze with my own. “Mason,” I state.

“Stacey Mason?” she asks, knowing damn well that Whitaker said my name correctly.

“S.t.a.s.s.i.a., I spell.”

She nods her head, writing it down. “Is our party here?” Whitaker asks. Her head pops up, her eyes finding his, her smile returns bright and fake as hell.

“They are, please follow me,” she offers.

I watch her hips sway as she guides us toward our table. She’s built, round and curvy like a woman should be. She looks absolutely nothing like me, her body is the exact opposite and I can’t help but feel self-conscious. Whitaker can have anyone, any single person on earth, why does he want me?

He stops walking, murmuring a thanks to the girl, then his hand slides down to my ass and he gently squeezes. I gasp, surprised he’d touch me that way in a room full of people. Turning my head, I look up at him.

He’s smiling down at me, then winks. “Sit, little girl,” he murmurs.

I can feel my face heat as I dip my chin and slowly sit in the offered chair. When I’m finally seated, only then do I lift my face. There are six people staring back at me. All three of the men are smirking and all three of the women are smiling.

“This is Stassia. Stassi, meet everyone,” Whitaker chuckles.

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