Playing It Close (London Legends) by Latham Kat

Author:Latham, Kat [Latham, Kat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2014-04-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The boys took me out for my birthday last night. After a few rounds at the pub, we stumbled into a table-dancing club around the corner from the office. Not my idea. Never my idea, but I’ve been here before. It’s hard to say no when my strategy for keeping my job is to blend in as much as possible. I tried to pretend I was having a good time, mostly because if the boys see me squirm then they know they’ve got to me. I won’t give them the satisfaction.

But soon after we’d arrived, X. disappeared and returned with “Sugar.” (I don’t think I need to make her anonymous, as I doubt that’s the name on her birth certificate.) She leaned down and whispered (in what I guess was supposed to be a seductive voice but just made me think she’ll have lung cancer soon if she doesn’t cut back on the fags), “So you like a bit of minge, do you?”

She was bent over rubbing hers in my face before I could figure out what the fuck she was talking about. The boys just about pissed themselves.

One of them looked at me, pointed at Sugar and said, “Happy birthday, T. Now you can finally have a pair of tits.”

—Sexists in the City blog

The half-naked woman was the first thing Tess saw when she left the changing room. Difficult to miss in a room full of rugby players, most of whom were about three times the woman’s width, even if some weren’t that much taller than her. A couple of the players were talking to her—or, more accurately, they were talking to the breasts practically falling out of her red bikini top.

Tess tugged the bottom hem of her jacket, straightening her shoulders. Thank God the men would be distracted. They’d probably already forgotten they’d seen her mostly naked now they had this bounty in front of them.

Most of the action seemed to be taking place around the waterfall. Catcalls and whistles rang out, so Tess crossed the room to see who was the center of attention. Stuck behind several of the taller players—and, really, even the shortest among them would block her vision—she raised up on her tiptoes but still couldn’t see anything. Shorty Dunston, one of the massive second-rows, did a double-take when he noticed her next to him and he stepped aside, tapping the shoulder of the player in front of him so he’d also make room for her. She was about to protest, but Shorty laid his hand on her back and gently guided her through the crowd. He had to lean down quite a way to give her a wink and murmur, “Turnabout is fair play, love.”

What did he mean by that?

She didn’t have to wonder long.

Ho-ly...Liam stood in water up to his ankles in a paddle pool surrounded by large, real-looking rocks. He wore not a stitch of clothing. Bent at the hips, he hiked up a skimpy swimming costume, shaking his naked arse to entertain his teammates, who started to hum a stripping tune.

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