Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [549]
“No, thanks, we got it covered,” Owen trilled. He clung to Nathaniel’s arm, and Nathaniel let him.
I tried to help. I said, “Sorry, but I think I’m at my limit for men for the night. After three, don’t they make you throw one back?”
The new guy laughed, shook his head, and motioned us toward a hallway that seemed to stretch the length of the club. Owen moved us all down that narrow corridor. There wasn’t actually room for us to walk three abreast, so Nathaniel dropped ahead, and kept his arm around Owen. Owen must have taken that for a good sign, because he was suddenly draped around Nathaniel like some kind of tall, thin fashion accessory. Micah caught up with me, his arm sliding around my waist like I was his new security blanket. I guess I couldn’t blame him, I wasn’t exactly comfy myself.
There were small booths on either side, with curtains that could be drawn in front of them, though not everyone seemed to be bothering to pull curtains. Most of it was perfectly legal, a private lap dance. Rules for a lap dance are: The customer keeps their hands to themselves. The dancer does the touching, and even then, there are rules about what kind of touching can be done. Funny how living with a stripper and dating someone who owned a strip club had made me pay attention to things I never thought I’d want, or need, to know. But once you go in private, it’s a negotiation between the dancer and customer. I don’t mean just sex. Jason had one woman who wanted to lick the back of his knees, and was willing to pay fifty dollars for the privilege. Not my idea of fun, but not sexual, not legally. Or by most people’s standards, at all.
I hadn’t really thought how to find Ronnie once we were back here. Most of the booths were closed. I couldn’t just start yelling her name without maybe getting Owen in trouble with this Dallas person. Shit.
But I didn’t have to find Ronnie, I damn near tripped over her leg when it shot out from underneath a drape. I thought I knew the leg, but I was sure of the voice. “I fell down, God, I’m drunk.” A man’s voice murmured, and I think he was helping her to her feet.
I fought the urge to knock and said, “Ronnie, is that you?” Though I knew it was, sometimes you just have to say the stupid shit. Giggling was the only answer she offered. I took a deep breath and pulled the drape aside.
Ronnie was on her knees in the back of the booth. There was a flash of pale breasts, her shirt was up, and there was no bra in sight. A man was leaning over her breasts like he owned them. The dancers are allowed to touch, but not that much. If the management found out, he’d be booted out, or at least that was the theory.
“I’ll wait down the hallway,” Micah said.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
Nathaniel took Owen by the arm and said, “I’ll look after Micah.” I was left alone with my friend and her friend.
Ronnie giggled and drew him up for a kiss. I don’t think she realized that the curtain was open. If she’d been sober, I’d have turned on my heel and left her to it. She’s over twenty-one, but she was drunk and depressed and confused and my friend. So I moved a little into the booth, close enough that she could see me over his shoulder.
She smiled up at me. “Anita, why are you here?”
“You called me to give you a ride home, remember?”
She frowned up at me, as if to say, no, she didn’t remember.
The man who was on his knees in front of her turned and looked up at me. “You want to join us? I won’t charge extra.”
“I’ll just bet you won’t. Come on, Ronnie, let’s go home.”
“I don’t want to go home. Not yet. I just found Dallas. We’re having a private