Southern Seduction (2 page)

Obviously, she loves her brothers dearly. They share an uncanny relationship that only siblings can claim. She can practically hear what they’re thinking without either of them saying a word. Her brain is most attuned to Billy. It probably stems from the nine months they spent together inside their momma’s womb. That’s bound to develop a special kind of bond. And Daniella loves that bond, cherishes it with every piece of her soul.

She and Billy are fraternal twins. That probably goes without saying since they’re different genders. She’s older than he is by two minutes. Her momma always said that Daniella’s impatience is what threw her into labor three weeks before her intended due date. She just wanted to make her presence known. Always the most outspoken out of the three Pruitt siblings, Daniella never hesitates to make her feelings heard. Most would see this as a personality flaw; she only sees it as a strength. She lives by the rule that, in order to get what you want, you have to speak up and demand it. Or put on some stripper heels and work for it…but that’s a whole other story for a different kind of day.

Or maybe it’s just the kind of story to tell…

The how-Daniella Pruitt-became-a-stripper story.

She didn’t wake up one day and say, “
Hey, I’d really like to give pole dancing and nipple pasties a try.
” She was raised in a Bible-reading, church-going Christian family for goodness’ sakes! Her momma would keel over from shock if she ever found out her daughter sought out a career in the ‘entertainment’ industry.

Her family went to church
every
Sunday. The only time her momma missed a sermon was after she had her gallbladder removed and was hospitalized for three days. But even then, Nadine Pruitt had the chaplain visit her room to pray
and
she watched three hours’ worth of mass on one of those boring public access networks. She’s what some would call a Midwestern Holy Roller or Bible Thumper, and Nadine Pruitt is proud of this fact.

Life was going smoothly until Daniella found herself in a little bit of a financial situation. She was struggling to find the funds to pay for her final year of undergrad. She
couldn’t
ask her parents and
refused
to ask either of her brothers. This is where her pigheadedness comes in. She can never seem to shake the unrelenting urge to be independent, to never rely on anyone else. She could blame this on her twin brother Billy. If she hadn’t shared a uterus with him for nearly a year, Daniella likes to believe she wouldn’t be so god damn Type A. Or she could blame it on Bobby. If he hadn’t been so overprotective, she wouldn’t feel the need to rebel against everyone and prove that she can do things on her own.

She needed another job to supplement the menial wages she was pulling in from waitressing at her parents’ establishment, Nadine’s Diner. It was either find another means of income or face the devastating realization that she wouldn’t be able to finish her senior year of college. She was frantic. She was
desperate
. And as the saying goes, desperate times call for desperate measures. It’s just hard to believe that those desperate measures would have motivated her to find a job gyrating her hips and shaking her tits. And more importantly, working for a man she kind of hates.

Penn Wilder. A man who never fails to infuriate Daniella Pruitt beyond belief. He’s the only man who can invoke the most powerful, irrational emotions from within. Insanely attractive, gorgeous blue eyes, and a body she could grate cheese on. He’s
too
good-looking.
Downright hot.
He’s the brand of hot that threatens to make a woman stupid if she stares at him for too long. It doesn’t help that Penn and Daniella share an interesting past. He’s five years older than she, the same age as Bobby, and has been her oldest brother’s best friend for as long as she can remember.

She grew up spending adolescent summers following Bobby and Penn around, desperately trying to tag along. Bobby always treated his kid sister like she was an annoying pest, but Penn seemed to have a soft spot for the little girl in pigtails and knee socks. Not to mention, he
loved
to tease her and actually was quite relentless. But she didn’t mind his teasing; she secretly savored every second.

Daniella had a giant crush on Penn for most of her young life. She spent the majority of her youth watching him float from one stupid, mindless college girl to another while he was living it up at the University of Houston with Bobby. It was maddening and exasperating and it damn well made her crazy.

And then one summer night, one month after she turned eighteen and two weeks after her high school graduation, they had a moment.
One perfect night.
The type of moment that would make a girl lose her mind in the very best kind of way. That moment ended quicker than it had started. Penn practically moved to California overnight and she remained close to home. He left her with a forgotten goodbye, a crushed heart, and radio silence. She hated him for just leaving; well…she
told
herself she hated him. It was the only way to find an inkling of strength to move on, to pick up her shattered heart and continue living her life.

She never understood his reasons for moving away. That was what hurt the most. She always felt like it had been because of her, that she’d driven him to leave Texas, that he’d seen what they’d shared as a giant mistake and that he regretted every second of it. That assumption caused her tremendous pain.

After a few months passed, she convinced herself that Penn had left Texas with the intention of never coming back. It was the only way she could persuade her irrational heart to find the fortitude to move past him, to try and forget the night they shared. But she
never
forgot. Time only managed to make the ache less intense. That night was always in the back of her mind. One night with Penn transformed her in the most intense way. It defied all logic and went against her stubborn Type A personality.

He made her feel needy and stupid and downright pathetic. That man turned her into a cliché. Because of him, she turned into
that
girl. That stupid, imprudent girl who let herself fall head over heels in love with her childhood crush. The rational part of her brain wishes she could take that night back, but the irrational, hopeless romantic inside of her won’t give that night up for anything. That one night with Penn Wilder seared her, claimed her, and engraved his name on her foolish heart.

And then, three years later, she saw him again.

He’d moved back to Texas, and Daniella was in quite the dilemma. A more-than-desperate kind of situation. And by some strange twist of fate, Penn Wilder was the one and only man who could provide her with a job that could offer enough funds to finish her undergraduate degree.

In an instant, she was working for him…
at his strip club.

The Past

June 2010

Daniella stood with her back against the wooden barn. Her big brown eyes watched her fellow high school graduates living up their last summer before heading off to college. Ella Mae’s graduation party was bound to be the biggest party of the summer. The entire graduating class of Cumbie High was in attendance. There were at least six kegs of beer and two shot luges lining the freshly cut grass of Ella Mae’s parents’ farm. Music, dancing, and drinking were on the agenda, and Daniella couldn’t have been any less enthused. Farm parties get old after a while, and over four years of these had begun to grate on her nerves.

“Danny Jo, I’ve been wondering where you were hiding at, baby doll,” Kurt slurred from beside her. His grey eyes appraised her with appreciation. A red solo cup in hand, he swaggered in Daniella’s direction and placed two strong arms on either side of her face. His beer breath brushed across her temple as he whispered, “I’ve missed you. You look good…
real good
.” A wicked grin creased his drunken lips.

Daniella scowled in response and had the urge to cover her nose to prevent a puking marathon on his black scuffed-up cowboy boots. His beer breath had bile rising in her throat. Kurt Howell was the biggest flirt that ever walked the halls of Cumbie High. He was notorious for sleeping with nearly half of the graduating class, and that’s only because he was as straight as an arrow. If Kurt had had any inkling towards the male population, there was no doubt he would have bedded the entire school.

“Kurt, a little personal space would be nice,” she scolded with a raise of her dark eyebrow.

Her disapproving tone had zero effect on him. Alcohol seemingly made him more stupid than usual and completely unaware of body language. “Aw, baby doll,” he said as he leaned in closer. His forehead pressed against hers, and every muscle in Daniella’s body turned rigid. “Come on, Danny Jo. I just wanna spend some time with you.”

With two firm hands and a generous shove, she pushed the lecherous idiot away. Beer spilled out of his cup, drenching his flannel button-up. An irritated expression crossed his face as he stared back at her in surprise.

“Look, Howell. I told you to give me some space.”

“You’re such a fucking cock-tease!” he shouted over the country music blaring from the speakers that sat inside the flatbed of Ella Mae’s father’s F-150. Several curious glances were immediately thrown their way.

Daniella decided that now was a good time as any to make an exit from the night’s celebration. “Go drink some more, Kurt. Maybe you can find someone drunk enough to entertain that pathetic excuse you call a dick.”

His brow furrowed, hardening his facial features. Most would be intimated by this look from Kurt, but Daniella wasn’t the least bit fearful. Yeah, the guy was well over six foot and pushing a good two hundred and ten pounds, but nothing fazed a girl who had been raised in a house with two brothers who loved to tease her relentlessly. They also taught her how to fight, and boy oh boy can Daniella Pruitt pack a mighty fine punch.

“How the fuck would you know about my cock? You might as well be Mother fucking Teresa. A guy would have to pry your legs open with a crowbar just to get a peek.”

A barking laugh escaped her throat. Guys like Kurt were all the same. Their egos couldn’t stand when a girl didn’t buy into their fake charm, and she could see right through the bullshit he spouted off. Even if he was the last guy on Earth, she wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole. Hell, the entire Earth’s existence could be relying on her and Kurt to continue the species and she’d still rather stay at home and masturbate.

Yes, even virgins masturbate.

Daniella took three steps towards the idiot running his mouth, her face only a few inches away from his. “Kurt,” she whispered softly.

His grey eyes turned soft and intrigued. “Yeah, baby doll?” he asked as he leaned in closer, his nose touching hers.

“You know what I think you should do?” she inquired with a sultry edge hinting at her voice. Her eyelids fluttered seductively as she gazed up at him.

He cocked his head to the side questioningly as an intrigued smirk raised the corners of the lips that hovered dangerously close to her mouth.

“I think…” She paused mid-sentence, grasping both of his shoulders with her petite hands, and delivered a swift knee straight into his crotch.

A harsh breath whooshed out of his lungs. His hands involuntarily dropped his prized cup of beer and grasped his aching balls. A pained expression marred his face as a he grunted out, “What the fuck, Danny Jo?”

With her hands still firmly clasping the material of the hideous shirt that covered his broad shoulders, she inclined in and whispered into his ear. “You should go fuck yourself.” And she punctuated that statement with a second blow to his family jewels before striding away with her shoulders back and head held high.

Daniella didn’t even take the time to say goodbye to her fellow graduates. There were only a handful of people she was actually close with. She had always been the type of girl to make her own way, never guilty of wasting time striving to be the most popular. She’d rather have one best friend than sixteen so-called friends. Loyalty and trust were far more important to her than winning prom queen by surrounding herself with backstabbing, gossipy girls who worried more about their looks than their intelligence.

She slipped her white flip-flops off her feet and hopped into her daddy’s old pickup truck. The junker still ran, but it had nearly two hundred thousand miles on it and was a stick shift. A very stiff, rusted-out stick shift—hence the need to take off her sandals before taking it for a spin. She started the engine and drove with no destination in mind. The windows were down and the warm summer breeze blew through the cab. Strands of her brunette ponytail were tousled around erratically. The night sky was her horizon; the glowing moon and infinite stars led the way.

After a few minutes of wandering aimlessly down the dirt roads of Cumbie, she switched on the radio and let the smooth voice of Van Morrison fill her ears.
Brown-Eyed Girl
blared loudly from the stereo, and Daniella smiled wide as she sang along at the top of her lungs. With one hand on the wheel and one hand hanging out the window, she decided to drive to the one place that had always brought her peace. The Wilders’ Lake.