Smoky by Connie Bailey Read Free Book Online Page A

head, his dark blond hair floating around his face like silk floss. “Where’s the door?”
    “Are you looking for a way in, Cupcake?” Tommy and Jaramie’s heads spun around at the sound of the black-coffee voice. They peered into the alley mouth but didn’t see anyone. Light winked on polished metal, and a shadow separated from the greater darkness, coalescing into a lanky young man slinking toward them with all the ramshackle grace of a tomcat on the prowl. From the studded cap on his long unraveled curls to the chain-swagged motorcycle boots, he was wrapped in black leather and almost every inch of exposed skin was decorated with tribal tattoos. “Cat got your tongues?” he drawled.
    “We’re not tourists,” Tommy said. “I’ve been here before.”
    “I guess you know the rules then. No couples.”
    “We’re not a couple,” Tommy answered. “And who are you? I don’t remember this place having a doorman.”
    “I’m usually the back door man,” the stranger said with a wry smile. “My name’s Samuel, but everyone calls me Smoky.”
    “Smoky, huh?” Jaramie said. “I’ve never had a nickname.”
    “You do now, Cupcake.”
    Jaramie frowned, his full lips forming a pout. “That’s not exactly a cool nickname.”
    Smoky ran his eyes over Jaramie from head to toe and back again. “I’d like to oblige you, but you’re most definitely a Cupcake.”
    “Come on, Jaramie,” Tommy said, tugging at his friend’s arm. “Let’s go in.”
    “Right this way,” Smoky said, tipping Jaramie a wink. “Don’t worry, Cupcake; once you’re inside, you can ditch your mother.”
    Tommy’s eyes bulged with outrage, but an insult from a stranger wasn’t worth taking issue over. “Just do your job,” he said dismissively.
    Smoky gave him a Mona Lisa smile and turned away to lead them down the alley. “The entrance has changed since you were here,” he said over his shoulder. “We aren’t using the garage anymore.” Raising a gloved hand, he knocked a code on a door with peeling paint. The door opened, and a very large man stood aside to let them in. “We have the entire warehouse now,” Smoky said as he slapped hands with the bouncer. “More room to move, if you know what I mean.” He gave Tommy the same top to bottom visual assessment he’d given Jaramie. “And judging by your frame, I’d say you do. I’ll bet you can really burn up a dance floor.”
    “He’s an awesome dancer,” Jaramie said.
    “What about you?”
    Jaramie shook his head. Smoky’s frankly appraising eyes made Jaramie feel flustered, and he was suddenly anxious to find a table and sit down. “Let’s find a seat,” he said to Tommy.
    “Not until you dance,” Smoky said. “We have rules here at the Club.”
    Jaramie’s head whipped toward Tommy. “What’s he talking about?” he asked.
    “Smoky’s right,” Tommy said. “Everyone has to dance their first time here.”
    “And you didn’t bother to mention that little fact?”
    Tommy shrugged. “You’re not a bad dancer; you just need to loosen up a little.”
    Jaramie turned back to Smoky. “Are there any taxis that will come into this area?” he asked as he took out his phone.
    “No way!” Tommy grabbed Jaramie’s phone and dropped it in his pocket. “You’re going to a have good time tonight if it kills you.”
    Smoky’s eyes glittered in the shadow of his hat brim as he smiled at Jaramie. “Listen to your mother, Cupcake; she knows what’s best for you.”
    “Do you just wait by the door to insult people, or do you wait tables too?” Tommy inquired in his sweetest voice. “I’d like a rum and Coke, and Jaramie will have a Cosmo.”
    Smoky chuckled, and Tommy felt a strong pulse behind his pubic bone. Smoky might be annoyingly self-assured, but he was as sexy as a tongue bath, which annoyed Tommy even more. “Have a seat over here,” Smoky said, gesturing to a postage stamp-sized table hidden behind a pocked column. “I’ll get you some