The Hockey Star's Spicy Stripper

Jace’s POV

I could swear the figure was familiar. The way she rolled her hips to the rhythm of the music, slowly grinding against me, made it hard to focus. I had been with a lot of strippers, but my heart was racing faster for this one each time she brushed her thigh against my body.  Hell, she was making me hard. I reached out, brushing my hand over her ass, but she stopped me instantly.

“No touching, sir,” she whispered. Firmly.

“But I paid for the VIP experience,” I said, tightening my grip on her waist. “I need a happy ending.”

She started to pull away, but I wasn’t ready to let go. I grabbed her arm, freezing her in place.

“I’ll double the pay. Just make me feel good tonight, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

She didn’t even flinch.

Even with the mask, I could read it in her eyes. She wasn’t interested.

“I don’t offer extra services, sir. If that’s what you want, speak with the manager. He’ll send another stripper your way,” she said flatly and walked off like I didn’t matter.

I sat there, angry. Embarrassed. No woman had ever rejected me.

I’m Jace Harrington. First-round NHL draft pick. Business major. The reason half the girls in Econ 102 show up to class early. And this masked stripper just shut me down like I was nothing.

I reached for my whisky and took a rough gulp. The burn scorched my throat.

I was going to get her. Maybe not tonight, but she was going to end up in my bed someday. That was a promise.

I reached for another drink, but Scott walked up right on time and slapped the glass out of my hand.

“Easy, fella,” he said. “You’ve got a press conference tomorrow to announce your new mega deal. Between the NHL contract, the streaming rights, and the endorsement package with Titan Energy and Harrington Sportswear, that’s almost two billion in your name, Jace. Don’t show up hungover.”

“One drink won’t cancel my contract and endorsement deal, Scott.” I tried to reach for the glass again, but he slapped my hand harder this time.

“I’m not letting you make a mess out of yourself. You’ve worked hard for this, and I won’t let you ruin it. We should be studying after the conference tomorrow. That LAW220 test is on Monday morning. You got a D last time. You know Mr. Oliver can’t be bought. If you don’t get an A, you’re getting a carryover.”

“It’s Friday night, Scott, and you’re already worried about Monday? How old are you again?”

I wasn’t even listening anymore. Everything Scott was saying turned into white noise.

My gaze locked on the stripper as she climbed the pole. Her butt was almost bare, and it jiggled with surgical precision every time she shook it. I couldn’t believe how drawn I was to her.

“There’s something strange about her,” I muttered, eyes still fixed on her. “Her voice sounds familiar. Like she’s someone I used to know.”

“You’ve been with a lot of women, Jace. I’m sure she’s one of them.”

“But she won’t even agree to… never mind.”

Scott scrolled through his tablet. “Do you want us to study at your penthouse, mine, or the farmhouse? I’m trying to set your schedule for tomorrow.”

“You brought your tablet to the club? Are you kidding me right now? Put that thing away!”

Scott acts like a nerd, but he isn’t. My father liked him a little too much. Said he kept me in check. Scott wasn’t just my best friend. He was also my personal assistant and PR manager. But sometimes he took that role way too seriously. He was starting to sound like my dad.

I turned and saw her again. This time, she was grinding on another VIP client. Her hips moved like sin, slow and deliberate. She looked straight at me. I couldn’t see her expression behind the mask, but I felt the heat in it. My jaw clenched.

“You alright?” Scott asked.

I didn’t answer. I stood up, a little tipsy, staggering just a bit. I walked straight to the bar where the club manager was standing. He lit up the second he saw me.

“Oh, my God! Do you need anything, sir? I’d be so happy to help. You didn’t have to leave your seat. I would’ve come to you,” he gushed.

It wasn’t my first time here, but he always acted starstruck.

“That girl over there. What does it take to have her for the night?”

“You mean Spicy?” he asked, pointing toward her.

“Yes. Is that her name?”

“Yes, sir. But making out with her is like a snowball’s chance in hell. She only dances for VIPs. No happy endings. But if that’s what you want, I can get you the thickest stripper here. Her name is Bam and she…”

“I don’t need Bam. I need Spicy.” My voice dropped, cold and hard. I slammed my palm on the bar loud enough to draw eyes. Scott rushed over, trying to calm me down.

“Calm down, man. People are watching.”

But Spicy didn’t even flinch. She kept dancing like none of this had anything to do with her. Grinding on that guy like he meant something.

I snapped.

I stormed toward her, ignoring Scott’s warning grip on my arm.

“Come to my corner. Right now,” I said.

But the guy she was dancing with shoved her behind him and stepped in my face. “Who the hell do you think you are?” he barked. “Ohh wait! I know you. The hockey star.” He scoffed. “She’s mine tonight. And until I’ve enjoyed every inch of her body, you’re not getting shit.”

I didn’t even think. I punched him in the face, hard enough to send him backwards. He came at me, and we brawled, fists flying. I beat the hell out of him. Scott tried to pull me off, but I needed to release this rage. I didn’t stop until I felt that surge of satisfaction.

Then I turned.

And saw flashing lights.

Phones. Dozens of them. People recording. Some were even livestreaming.

Shit.

Scott groaned beside me, gripping my arm. “What the hell have you done, Jace?”