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her grip on Phil’s trembling arm. “Don’t be scared, these guys can’t hurt you. The bouncer’ll be right there, and Ty, he don’t take shit from no one, not even our own people.” She let go of Phil’s arm and winked. “Honey, you play them poor slobs right and they’ll treat you like a princess.”
    “Play them?”
    Candi nodded and popped her gum. “Honey, it ain’t called ‘cocktail’ for nothing. You got the tail and the cocks crow.” Candi laughed. “Hey, I like that.” She nudged Phil. “C’mon, jump on the cash train. You make ’em feel special, like they’re the only ones in the room and you would love nothing more than to go home with them. ’Course when they ask you to, you just sweetly smile and tell them it’s against company policy, but if you ever quit working the Kashmir you’d be happy to give them a call.” Candi popped her gum. “’Course if you really want to go off with them, nobody has to know.”
    Phil nodded and felt a flash of pity for the men. Didn’t they know they were being played?
    “They know what we’re doing, but if you’re good at it? They forget fast and think with their cock, and if you’re real good, you can empty plenty of wallets by the end of the night.”
    Phil smiled. The scene Candi painted was empowering. She’d never considered sex as power, but she supposed it was. Every woman in their right mind knew men thought with their little head, and so long as they did, a smart girl could capitalize on it.
    Candi rambled on for a few more minutes about men, their dicks, and how in all her years of stripping she’d never met one worthy of taking home to her daughter. That is, until she met Mr. Right a month ago.
    “Speaking of Mr. Right, here he comes now.” Candi’s voice rose in excitement. Phil turned and gasped. He might be Candi’s Mr. Right, but he was definitely her Mr. Wrong.
    Dressed completely in black, his tall powerful body glided effortlessly across the wide span of the club floor. His shoulder-length black hair gleamed under the harsh light. His green eyes twinkled as if he held a secret. Phil swallowed, the action tight against her dry throat. Ty’s command presence was as much a part of him as was her blue eyes. She might not like the man, but her bourgeoning respect for him she could no longer ignore. The man was good.
    “Hey, Ty,” Candi cooed, sauntering with her look-at-my-hips-and-tits walk. It worked, too; both Phil and Ty watched her smooth firm body parts take on a life of their own.
    “Good evening, Candi,” Ty cooed right back.
    Oh, blech .
    Candi cuddled into Ty’s broad chest and smoothed the fitted black dress shirt he wore over the plane of his muscles. “I waited for you last night.”
    Ty smiled at Candi indulgently, but smoothly disengaged her fingers digging between the buttonholes of his shirt. “I told you, I had work to do.”
    He flashed Phil a wicked grin and she felt the heat rise in her face and a hot stab of desire spike between her legs. She hadn’t donned her work clothes yet, but stood in a pair of tight jeans, four-inch stiletto sandals, and a white form-fitting jersey top that hung loosely off one shoulder. Her coup de grace ? She wore nothing beneath the top and only a G-string thong beneath the jeans. Her nipples swelled under Ty’s attention, and it was all Phil could do not to shield herself from his hot gaze.
    Watching his deep green eyes go from initial surprise to appreciative to downright horny, she felt a rush of satisfaction, until he finished off with calm indifference.

CHAPTER FOUR
    T y’s reaction to the revamped IA officer was immediate and basic. He wanted to fuck her. And wouldn’t have been particular about where, but the when part was now. He masked his surprise and chastised his cock for jumping so quickly to attention.
    She was a looker all right. Long legs, narrow waist, tits sitting way up high. Her hair was now a kaleidoscope of browns, blondes, and reds, hanging long