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She turned around, arse first, and sank down into my lap. And I put my hands on her hips again. Firmer this time. Pulling her down onto me.
For about two seconds it was heaven.
Then she was off my lap and across the booth so fast I didn’t see her move. She snatched her bra off the couch and held it against her chest.
“Dez,” she said. Not loud. She didn’t need to be loud.
The curtain swept back. Dez filled the doorway completely. Up close he was about forty-five, bald as an egg, and built like a vending machine.
“Problem?”
“Touched me twice,” Scarlett said. “After the warning.”
“Mate,” I said. “Honestly, it was…”
“Up.” Dez didn’t raise his voice either. Nobody in this place raised their voice. He put one enormous hand on my shoulder and steered me out of the booth, down the corridor, across the main floor, past every man and every dancer in the building. Jade watched me go with her eyebrows up. Somebody at the bar actually clapped.
The fire door banged open. Cold air. Wet pavement. Bins.
“You’re barred,” Dez said. “Six months. Don’t come back before then, and when you do, keep your hands in your pockets.”
The door slammed. I stood in the alley with two hundred quid gone, a raging hard-on and the lingering smell of vanilla on my hands.
It started to rain. Of course it did. It had been that kind of week.
Ending 6 of 25: Shown the Door. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.