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the way his head moved that he was looking between her and the men. Tasha willed him to go along with it—struggling to ignore the unfamiliar feeling in her belly. She wasn’t used to having someone with her, wasn’t used to someone objecting to her doing whatever she had to do. Marco nodded once, folding his arms. He wasn’t relaxed—she could see the muscle in his jaw flexing, but for now he was playing along.
    Tasha stripped out of her leggings, slowly peeling them off and turning as she did it so they got a good view of her ass. Next she pulled off her top, letting it slide slowly down her arm before dropping it to the floor.
    Sammy rocked in his chair, nodding. “You’ve got a nice body. You done kinky before?”
    “Yeah, I know how to be a good girl.”
    Nero chuckled and Sammy reached into a drawer and tossed her a pair of handcuffs. “Put them on.”
    Tasha locked her hands together in front of her and held out her wrists. “How do I look now?”
    “Good.” Sammy leaned forward, grabbed the chain connecting the cuffs and yanked.
    Tasha was pulled off-balance. Rather than catch herself, she let herself hit the floor, falling hard on her knees. Bowing her head, she held up her wrists like an offering.
    “What the fuck are you doing?” Marco growled.
    His tone made her shiver, but she raised her voice and said, “ It’s okay, baby. He just had to check and make sure that I knew how to be a good girl.” She tossed her head and looked at Sammy though her lashes. “Am I a good girl?”
    “Oh yeah, Ashley, you are.”
    Nero looked up from his paperwork. “Have you worked in one of our clubs before?”
    “No, but my friend told me about you, said it was the best place.”
    “We have a very good safety record.” Nero looked at Marco. “She’ll be completely safe when she’s on the floor.”
    Sammy stroked her cheek. Tasha bit her lower lip.
    “Oh yeah, look at that face. I bet you’ll make some sexy noises when you get whipped.” Sammy kept glancing up at Marco, as if checking to see what he’d get away with doing while her boyfriend was watching.
    “Who recommended us to you?” Nero asked.
    Tasha raised her cuffed hands, placed them behind her neck and arched her back. “My friend,” she whispered, breathing deep. Sammy’s gaze was glued to her breasts, which were nicely displayed by her black bra. “Jennie.” She mumbled the name, hoping the incomplete answer was vague enough that if Jennie walked in she could say that her friend told her about Jennie, or, if Jennie wasn’t here, that she could claim Jennie was her friend.
    “Oh yeah? Are you from Chicago?” Nero looked up and smiled. “I love the pizza there. How is she doing? I keep meaning to call Demario—he’s our manager at our club in the windy city.”
    “She’s good, really likes working there,” Tasha said, hoping Marco was controlling his reactions. Another move to Chicago eliminated the possibility of coincidence.
    “And why did you move to Sin City?” Sammy asked. He grabbed Tasha’s chin and forced her head up.
    His grip on her jaw was so tight that she couldn’t answer.
    “She came with me,” Marco growled. “Take your fucking hands off her.”
    Sammy released her. “Listen, buddy, your girl is a glorified stripper, so if you don’t want me inspecting the merchandise then I suggest you marry her and keep her locked up at home.”
    Before Marco could say anything else, Tasha rolled to her feet and bent over. Making sure her breasts were in his face, she whispered in Sammy’s ear. “I’ll come back later, alone.”
    “Yeah, you will,” he panted. He pinched her nipple, squeezing hard enough that Tasha didn’t have to feign the gasp of pain. The action was hidden from Marco by her position.
    “Nice to meet you, blondie,” Sammy said loudly enough that Marco and Nero could hear. He took some keys from the desk and undid the cuffs. Tasha pulled on her clothes, thanked Nero, winked at Sammy and then got