Dad Bod Kingpin

  GIA BAILEY

  Copyright © 2023 by Gia Bailey

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Elle at

  https://cloverbookdesigns.com

  Contents

  Dad Bod Kingpin

  1. Caelan

  2. Celeste

  3. Caelan

  4. Celeste

  5. Caelan

  6. Celeste

  7. Caelan

  8. Celeste

  9. Caelan

  10. Celeste

  11. Caelan

  12. Celeste

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Gia Bailey

  Dad Bod Kingpin

  A dad bod kingpin, a woman in trouble, and the beginnings of an obsession…

  From the moment I saw her, I knew she was mine.

  Mine to protect, to provide for… mine to keep.

  I’ve made my name in this city and built a reputation to be feared.

  She’s alone and afraid, running from someone.

  From one monster's arms, into another.

  The difference with me is that I don’t intend to let her go.

  This is my city, and no one touches what’s mine.

  And now, that includes her.

  CHAPTER 1

  Caelan

  It started with the cab.

  I was on my way to a nightclub to meet a man in trouble. He needed to disappear, and that was a bit of a specialty of mine. I might belong to the mighty O’Rourke family, ruling Boston with their fists and a charming quip for nearly fifty years while they broke your teeth, but I had a hidden talent. A calling, if you will.

  I made people disappear, and was paid very well for it, if I said so myself.

  The nightclub was in the Roxbury neighborhood, and I headed, like always, for the back entrance. O’Rourkes don’t pay cover charges, and they always show up unannounced. It was a constant reminder to the club promoters of Boston that they better keep their operations clean, and our cut fair.

  I walked around a cab stopped at the mouth of the back alley when I heard it.

  “Please.”

  The single softly murmured word was like a gunshot in the night. I couldn’t help but look.

  A woman was sitting on the cab passenger side, a strange enough sight on its own. Her door was open, and she looked as if she was trying to get out, but the driver had her hand in a vice-like grip.

  She was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that made you forget what you were saying. She was young too, early twenties, I would bet. What made me stop, however, wasn’t her blazing beauty, or her plea. It was the look in her eyes.

  She looked like a woman standing on a precipice, preparing to jump. I knew that look. I was rooted to the spot. I couldn’t stop staring.

  “Celeste, stop pushing me,” the driver said, his voice low and harsh. He shook her arm, and her slight body wobbled. She turned her desperate eyes from him and saw me standing in the darkness beyond her door. Her slim neck bobbed when she swallowed.

  “Please,” I thought she mouthed in my direction.

  I needed nothing more than that.

  “Is there a problem here?” I asked, approaching the open door and leaning in. The driver stiffened, his hand falling from the woman’s arm.

  “No, no problem. I’m just dropping my friend off at work,” he said, and smiled. It was a nasty expression.

  “You work at this club?”

  I watched the drowning woman, finally close enough to see her beauty was only magnified with proximity.

  She nodded. She had huge dark eyes, and now they were latched onto me like I was her fucking hero. I felt myself grow taller and broader with just that look.

  “Let’s get you to work, then. Here, to cover her fare.” I dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the dash and held my hand out to help the woman from the cab.

  She placed her tiny hand into mine. Her skin was cold. It wasn’t warm yet in Boston at night, and she had no gloves on. Hell, she had no coat on, I realized, once she straightened up.

  I shut the cab door firmly and waved the man off. He didn’t budge. He simply sat in his cab and watched us.

  I turned my back to him and offered the woman my arm.

  “I’m headed to the Purple Pussycat myself.”

  The woman blinked at me, surprised.

  “You are?”

  “Why, is it not allowed?” I teased her gently. She was so uptight. All my protective instincts were shouting at me to put her at ease.

  I helped her over a puddle, my hand supporting her elbow. Christ, she was slight. I could pick her up as easily as a pillow. I was a big guy, over six feet, with strength that wasn’t just for show. I had muscle for days, and a good layer of protection over it. Scrawny gym muscles and dried out abs weren’t for men like me. I needed heavy fists, a gut that could take a punch, and a neck that was more suited for brawling and rugby than photo shoots. I was ok with that, most of the time. Standing next to my little mystery woman, however, I felt like an awkward giant.

  “I didn’t think a man like you would go to a club like the Purple Pussycat,” she said. “I’m Celeste, by the way. Thank you for your help.”

  “Yeah, well, you have to be a cold-hearted bastard to not stop someone who asks for it.”

  “Did I ask for it?” Celeste’s tone was hard to make out.

  “You said ‘save me’, didn’t you?”

  We stopped just outside the door of the club. Music vibrated the surface. I hated places like this, but my work required these kinds of meeting places.

  Celeste tilted her head back to look up at me. She was so petite; she had to look right back.

  “I guess I did. I’m not used to asking strangers for help. I must have been desperate.” She laughed, trying to make a joke out of a sad sentiment.

  Something in my chest moved at her melancholy honesty.

  “If you get desperate again, I’m Caelan. Call me.” I pressed a business card that was just my number, no name, into her hand.

  She stared at the card and then tucked it into her pocket and gave me a smile. It was the first time her lovely face gifted me with the expression. It was a sucker punch to the gut. A sunrise on a cold Boston night. Remembering to breathe became an issue.

  “Thank you.” She gave me one more glimpse of that knock-out smile, turned on her heel and went into the club. It took me only a second to follow.

  CHAPTER 2

  Celeste

  It wasn’t the best start to my night. I’d already been running late when I’d found Ricardo waiting for me at the end of my street. Refusing the ride to my new job would only have made him more aggressive. I couldn’t afford to annoy him. He was the one who had loaned me the money I needed for Maria’s medication. My older sister had brought me up. I’d been fifteen when she got sick, and I became the one responsible for both of us.

  So far, I was doing a shit job of providing. Ricardo was just reminding me I was behind on my payment schedule.

  Tonight was a big break for me at the Purple Pussycat. I’d started as a cleaner and worked up to bartending. It was a good job, especially because I could do it at night, and work somewhere else during the day. Lately though, being behind on rent and Ricardo’s payments, I needed more. I’d convinced the owner of the place, Vinnie, to give me a shot on stage.

  So, being a stripper at twenty-two had never been in my life plans, but then, I’d never really had any to start with. Plans were for people who hoped for more from their lives than just surviving.

  I left the towering, burly Caelan in the club's bar, tearing my eyes away from him with effort. There was something so reassuring about his huge, powerful body and steady gaze. His eyes were green, and his blonde hair glinted under the lights of the club. He watched me until I disappeared through the curtain to the back.

  Wait, did that mean he was going to be in the crowd for my dance?

  Heat rushed up my face as I made my way into the changing room.

  “Good, you’re here. I’ve put you on early. I need to see what you’ve got before we get the heavy hitters later. One song, one chance. If you knock it out of the park, I’ll see how you do with private as well.”

  “Really?” Surprise hit me. Private was the most lucrative gig in the place. That being said, I had no idea if I could do private, but I could try.

  “Really. Lala called in and quit on me, the bitch. We have a space in the lineup, so impress me tonight, and it’s yours.”

  “Thank you so much.” Embarrassing tears crowded my throat.

  Vinnie nodded. “Just do a good job. You’re on in ten, so get some make-up on or something.”

  With that, he left. I stood forlornly in the middle of the changing room for a long moment until a soft hand landed on my shoulder.

  “Hey baby girl, you want me to style you?” Mystique, a real friend, and the kindest woman I’d ever met, was leaning over me. She already had her huge heels on, and her silver sequined bodysuit made her dark skin glow. She was queen of the stage and everyone knew it.

  “Yes, please, if you have time.”

  “I always have time for you, Cici. Lose the

outfit and I’ll find you something.”

  “Something slutty, if you want her to pass her audition,” Bella called, a skinny white girl with a mean temper. Still, when it came down to it, she was the one who stood up to Vinnie when he was being a dick, on behalf of all the girls.

  She turned in her chair and stared me up and down. “Wait, didn’t you say you studied ballet or some shit?”

  I nodded, and she snapped her fingers. “I’ve got just the thing.”

  Ten minutes later and I was standing backstage, waiting to go on. In the end, Bella and Mystique had agreed that playing up what made me different from all the other dancers would be the best way of getting Vinnie’s approval. I had bare feet, and an outfit that was reminiscent of a ballet leotard and tutu. I had no idea if this was inspired or a terrible idea, and I was out of time to change.

  The soft strains of my music came on. It was a modern mash-up with pop beats, and a classical riff. I hoped they would like it. I hoped they would like me, because I really needed this job.

  I stepped out onto the stage, sudden nerves rushing up my throat, threatening to choke me. Lights blinded me, and I blinked out at the faces watching me. It wasn’t super busy, even so, it was about a hundred people more than had ever seen me in such a state of undress. They were about to see much more.

  “Dance!” Bella hissed at me from the wings.

  Right. Dance.

  I took another step and spun, my feet moving gracefully on the polished floor. I spun around effortlessly and brought my leg up, clutching it to my chest. Someone whistled, and it nearly made me fall. Landing, I struggled to keep my face neutral as I launched into the rest of the dance. Obviously, these men weren’t here to see ballet, but I used the moves to embellish the act of taking my clothes off. I spun, arched my back, undulated against the floor, and pulled the net top off that covered my leotard. More whistles. My cheeks beat red, and I felt like my skin was trying to crawl off my body.

  Then I saw him.

  Caelan. My protective stranger. He was standing with his back to the bar, far enough away from the lights of the stage that they didn’t blind me. He was gripping his tumbler like he was seconds away from crushing it in his huge palm.

  His eyes were locked on me. Heat rose through me that wasn’t embarrassment this time. I held his gaze as I looked for the courage to peel the straps of my leotard down.

  My skin pebbled under the air conditioning, blasting the stage.

  My nipples hardened as I got the leotard to my waist. Cat-calls and whistles threatened to drag me from the place of peace I’d reached, looking into Caelan’s calming green eyes. Now, I was dancing for him. For a man who showed a complete stranger compassion and kindness for no reason.

  Twisting, I let my hands fall to the lower portion of the dress. I felt dizzy. The skirt was one that pulled away in strategic places. I pulled the lower tier of net away, flashing my ass, just visible under the highest layer of net. My music was ending. Mystique had told me not to let it all hang out tonight, in my audition, but give a taster of what I could do.

  “If Vinnie wants his patrons to see all the goods, he better give you a job.”

  Now, I was relieved as hell to be nearly finished. I left the stage gratefully when the strains of my song died. My breath was rushing in and out, my blood jumping to the beat.

  “Oh my god, girl, that was hot,” Bella said, giving me a once over with a new light in her eyes. I recognized it as respect. I’d done better than she’d expected. I grinned at her, pulling the straps of my top back up and stuck on the bottom of the skirt. I felt bashful again already, despite what I’d just done. A performance felt different from walking about bare-assed in the bar.

  I walked back to the dressing room with Bella. Vinnie was lounging in the doorway. He nodded as I approached.

  “Well done, Celeste, I have to say, I was moved. I wasn’t sure if the Purple Pussycat needed a class act, but the crowd loved you. You’re in. You have a private dance request, and he’s willing to pay a hefty sum. Don’t mess this up, and you’re Lala’s replacement.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Caelan

  I took my coat off before the thick material threatened to strangle me. I waited in the private dance room, pacing like a tiger lashing his tail. My clothes were tight and irritating. I was annoyed, and I didn’t know why.

  Most of all, I was the most turned on I’d ever been.

  I’d never felt anything like the white hot need and dark possession that had filled when I saw Celeste take to the stage. I’d been a fucking idiot and assumed she was a bartender. I’d completely forgotten that the Purple Pussycat was a strip club. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of her stepping onto the stage.

  The guy I was meant to meet was late. I’d decided I’d give him ten minutes before I left. Then Celeste’s dance had started, and I’d forgotten everything else.

  Now I was holed up in a private room for the first time in my life. When I’d asked Vinnie about her, he’d told me tonight was her first time on stage, and a private dance was part of the audition. I’d slapped a grand in his hand before he could even think of allowing anyone else the privilege of coming into this room with her.

  The door opened, and a dark head poked around the side.

  “Oh! It’s you,” Celeste’s beautiful voice floated to me over the din in the hallway. I nodded and prowled back to the leather couch. I sat, bracing my elbows on my knees, and watched as she entered. She was wearing something else now, a robe, on top of white underwear, it looked like, from the top of the garter that I could just make up below the short satin hem.

  She closed the door and the silence between us felt loaded.

  “Thank you for choosing me to dance for you,” she murmured, playing with the belt of her robe nervously. Fuck, this woman might actually give me a heart attack.

  “It wasn’t altruistic,” I grunted, honestly. “You were beautiful on stage.”

  She flushed, and a slight smile played around her lips. “I hope you didn’t mind me looking at you the whole time. Someone told me it makes it less scary, if you focus on one person.”

  “I didn’t mind.” It was an understatement, but there was no need to let her know that just yet.

  She smiled and shifted nervously for a moment or two. “I guess we’d better start. This is kind of important to me, so if you could let me know if I mess anything up-,”

  “You won’t mess up anything.” Except my head.

  She smiled, relieved, and went to the wall, pressing some buttons. A slow, sexy song played. She came to stand in front of me, and swayed her hips slightly.

  “Are you nervous?” I asked, my voice as thick as tar.

  “Is it that obvious? It makes it easier though, since it’s you.”

  Her words sent heat through me. Surely, she couldn’t feel the same white-hot electricity between us I did? Was it real? It wasn’t just in my overheated, lust-filled mind?

  Then she undid her robe, and the edges parted, giving me a glimpse of her smooth, brown skin, and the underwear set.

  If my skin had felt too tight before, now it was unbearable. I shifted back in the seat, giving my tortured hard on a chance to breathe. Fuck, I was hard. I’d never been so hard.

  Her robe fluttered to the ground. Her hands went to her hips, and she swayed. I couldn’t rip my eyes from the sinuous lines of her body.

  “You were a dancer before this, right?” I had to stop myself from reaching for her.

  “Ballet. I know it’s not really the kind of dancing that helps me out now.”

  “I want to see it.” The words left me before I could stop them.

  Celeste paused, her head tilted to the side. Her curly hair was so long it fell past her belly button. I wanted to see it spread across my sheets.

 

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