Chapter 7 #2
Meanwhile, Emma stares at me, her blue eyes wide as her plush pout parts a bit.
Goddamn, I want to seize that luscious mouth in a savage kiss but there’s something holding me back, and it’s the air of innocence about her.
What the fuck? Obviously, Emma’s not “innocent.” The gorgeous woman’s not a virgin, nor is she a prude, based on what I witnessed earlier in the Red Room.
But there’s something about this girl that projects the image of a sweet, untouched flower who’s begging to be explored by a man.
Perfect. I’m just the motherfucker to stroke those petals before riding her raw, and I want her panting and gasping as she cries out my name. Shit, I’m such a dirty bastard.
But Emma shakes her head, her curves trembling a bit.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Blackshaw, but I can’t come over. It’s just not something I do. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
The beautiful blonde makes to get up from her seat, but before she can move, I take her small hand in my big one.
“Don’t go, sweetheart. Forgive me for being so forward, but I want you to come over because I believe I can help you.”
The young woman blinks once, surprised by my statement. But she recovers quickly and nods.
“I see,” she murmurs with a raised brow. “Hmm. I didn’t know I needed help, Mr. Blackshaw.”
I squeeze her hand and wink.
“A lot of times we don’t know what we need,” I growl.
“It’s a process of seeking, finding, and then rinse and repeat until we get to where we’re going.
But I saw you earlier ago downstairs in the Red Room, and I believe I can help you accelerate that rinse and repeat so that we’re not traversing the same ground, over and over again.
There’s no need to be Sisyphus pushing his rock up a mountain, only to see it roll down before starting all over again. I can help you.”
Emma bites her bottom lip, and it’s fetching.
I watch, entranced, as a slight flush covers her cheeks before descending down her neck and spreading over her lush décolletage.
I want to kiss the flush, and trace the redness tenderly with my hands before fucking the shit out of this woman, but manage to keep myself in check.
“I see,” she says in a light tone, trying to play it off. “So you saw me in the Red Room. Well, girls who work here are allowed to use Club Z facilities during our time off. It’s one of the perks of employment, and I wouldn’t say it’s Sisyphus pushing a rock up a hill.”
I nod, my expression smooth.
“You were amazing, Emma,” I say in a deep voice. “Beautiful. Brilliant. And very, very sexy in the Red Room. But how many times have you done that? How many times do you reach completion, only to feel empty and inconsequential a few days later? That’s what I’m asking.”
Emma bites her lip again, still on the fence. But then she takes a deep breath and looks straight into my eyes.
“Okay, but I’m going to speak bluntly.”
“Please do,” I state in a smooth voice. “I always encourage my women to speak their minds. You should never be afraid to share your thoughts with me, sweetheart.”
Emma still appears a bit hesitant, but then she summons her courage and looks me in the eye.
“So how will you help me, exactly? Do you have a dildo machine at home? A restraint chair? More toys? As you can guess, I can’t exactly keep a fucking machine in my dorm room, so I need to come to the club to play.”
I throw my head back and laugh, genuinely amused by her words, but also impressed with her bravery.
“I don’t have a fucking machine,” I say in a smooth tone. “Although I can get one if you like. Two or three, even. But I have something better.”
Emma gives a start, but then laughs lightly, the sound pealing and melodic in the lounge.
“Okay, is this what I think it is, Mr. Blackshaw?” she asks with a saucy smile. “Are you saying that your anatomy is better than the machine? I assure you that many men have made the same claim, and begged me for the opportunity to show off their prowess.”
I wink.
“I am better than the machine, but that’s not my surprise,” I reply in a smooth tone.
“I’m not inviting you to my apartment for that purpose because I know you can get all the male cock you want.
You’re a beautiful girl, and sex is easy to find for gorgeous women.
Every man’s happy to offer his cock if you need satisfaction.
But I have something even better, and I think you’ll enjoy it. ”
Emma’s blue eyes flash slightly, and I can tell she’s intrigued. But then, the young woman bites her bottom lip resolutely.
“I’m so sorry, but I can’t. I don’t go to private homes.”
“Not ever?” I ask, genuinely surprised this time.
She shakes her head slowly, her blonde tresses swishing over her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Blackshaw. It’s just a personal policy of mine. My private life is private, and I like to keep that separate from my work here, at Club Z. You can imagine how scandalous it’d be if the college found out I was moonlighting here.”
I shrug my broad shoulders.
“It’s not their business, sweetheart, and Evergreen wouldn’t intervene. Hell, when I was a student, a lot of girls worked as strippers to put themselves through school. It wasn’t a big deal, and the university didn’t give a shit as long as tuition was paid.”
Emma blushes again, but shakes her head resolutely.
“I hear you, but it’s just a personal choice for me.
Again, my private life stays private, and hopefully what I do here stays within these four walls too.
And you know that the club can’t force us to do anything we don’t want to do once we’re off the clock.
I’m so sorry, Mr. Blackshaw, but it’s a no. ”
Then, she gets up gracefully once more, ready to leave. But before she can depart, I press my card into her hand.
“That’s my cell number on there,” I say in a smooth tone with a smile. “Just think about it, and give me a call if you change your mind.”
Emma looks at the ivory rectangle in her palm for a moment, and hesitates for a moment. Is she going to change her mind? But instead, the curvy girl inclines her head.
“Certainly, Mr. Blackshaw. Of course, I’ll consider your offer.”
The way she says it means that she’s obviously just being polite.
After all, Emma Kincaid has high standards, and I’m the disgusting low-life trying to drag her into a cesspool of fuckery.
But then again, that’s my M.O. I live to defile young women while giving them the earth-shattering pleasure that their bodies crave.
I adore taking a young woman through her paces, and giving her the dick she needs, inch by inch, in ways she’s never imagined.
But will I get the chance with Emma Kincaid?
I don’t know because as I watch, the beautiful young woman glides away without a backwards glance.
Hell, she practically floats on air, projecting a graceful regality, even in her barely-there outfit.
I shake my head as my cock twitches again because I love women who are mysterious.
I love ladies who are a combination of poise, sass, beauty, sex appeal, and wit .
.. and something tells me that Emma Kincaid’s curiosity will ultimately get the better of her.