3. Nick #2
“Evan Williams.”
Stone tapped on his screen a few times. “This guy?”
I looked at the photo. “Yup. Do you know him?”
“No, but I’ve heard of his family. They have a foundation and donate huge sums to a ton of charities. I’ve been to a few of their benefits.”
“Do you think he’s trying to buy me? Like, he said no sex, but what else could he want with me?”
“I don’t know but I doubt he’d give you his personal info if he was trying to proposition you.” Stone tucked his phone away. “He could get in a lot of trouble for that. Both with the law and in the corporate world.”
“I thought hookers and mistresses were normal for rich dudes?”
“They are, but…”
“Not when the hooker is another guy.”
He sighed. “Homophobia runs deep with some people. That world is old-school in a lot of their thinking.”
“Biphobia,” I corrected automatically. “Or I guess this would be homophobia because I’m a guy and he’s a guy so everyone would assume I’m gay too.”
“Most likely. A lot of people seem to forget about the B in LGBT.”
“Ugh. Why did he have to go all cloak and dagger on me? I want to tell him to go fuck himself with a cactus, but what if it’s legit?
It’s not like I’m rolling in cash. I’d be stupid to turn down easy money.
But what if it’s not easy money and it’s me who’s supposed to be easy?
I don’t have a problem with sex workers,” I added quickly, “but if I was going to sleep with someone for cash, it would be someone I chose. Not some random with the audacity to assume he could buy my ass because he watched me spin around a pole.”
“It is rather presumptuous if that’s what he’s after,” Stone agreed.
“Has anything like this happened to you?” I asked.
“Constantly. This kind of thing is common for porn models.”
“Have you ever done it?”
He shook his head. “I made a rule for myself when I first started in the industry to not have sex for money outside of filming content. I have nothing against escorts, my stepbrother is one.”
It was my turn to gape at him. “He is?”
“Yup. But that’s not something I’m personally interested in. Sex on cam is work, and if I’m going to be with someone outside of my job, then I want it to be with someone who wants me, Quinn , not Stone.”
“Quinn?” I blinked stupidly.
“My name is Quinn. Stone is my stage name.” He bumped my shoulder with his.
“You look like a Quinn, way more than Stone.” I sat with that for a moment. “Thanks for trusting me with your real name. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“Sore?” He nodded to where I was still trying to work out the knot behind my knee with my fingers.
“Two nights of pole work catches up to you.”
Leaning back against the wall, he patted his thigh. “Want help working your muscles out?”
“So much yes.” I spun on the bench and stretched my legs over his lap, bracing my hands behind me. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He ran his palm down the back of one of my calves, pushing just hard enough the muscle lengthened and stretched.
“So what do you do when you do get those kinds of offers?” I asked, circling back to my rich-dude problem.
“Most of my inquiries come from social media so they’re easier to deal with.
If they’re rude, I ignore them. If they’re respectful, I politely decline.
If they persist, I block them. When it’s a more personal approach, I explain my position and refuse to engage with them again if they don’t drop it. ”
“So I should ignore him?”
“I think you should do what your gut is telling you to do. If you’re getting bad vibes, trust it. If you think you want to learn more, then do it, but make sure you put your safety first.”
“Gray says that to me all the time. Trust your gut. But my gut also told me that getting a perm last summer was a good idea, so what does that bitch know?”
Stone threw back his head and laughed.
“I think my FOMO will beat my brain up for the rest of my life if I don’t at least see what he wants.” I sighed as Stone—Quinn—used his thumbs to knead my calf. “Oh Mylanta you’re good at that.”
“You learn a few tricks when you’ve been around as long as I have.”
“Dude, you’re what? Twenty-five?”
“Twenty-seven.” He moved to my other leg. “But I’ve been dancing since I was a kid.”
“You have?”
I knew next to nothing about him, other than he was super popular in porn, had an OnlyFans, and stripped as a side hustle.
He nodded. “I was a theater nerd with ADHD. I did all sorts of lessons when I was younger. Dance, gymnastics, singing, acting.”
“A theater nerd?” I perked up.
“Yup. Even went to a performing arts high school. Were you into theater?”
“Oh yeah.” I nodded enthusiastically. “My parents couldn’t afford a lot of extras, but they managed to keep me in dance lessons until I was fifteen. I was a total theater nerd in high school.”
He gently cupped my foot. “Want me to rub your feet for you?”
“Oh my god yes. But fair warning, I’ll probably fall in love with you if you do a good job.”
He chuckled and squeezed my arch. “I’ll risk it.”
I bit back a moan. “Your hands are magic. I’m going to need you to clone yourself so I can get this after every shift.”
“What are you gonna do about that job offer?”
“Ugh, I don’t know. I think I need to hear him out, but I’ve watched way too many true-crime stories on TikTok that start out exactly like this and end up with the pretty stripper buried in a field under some endangered plants and a coyote corpse.”
“That’s…an oddly specific scenario.”
“You’d be surprised how many people think cops can’t dig up endangered plants if they’re looking for a body.
Spoiler alert, they can. And they probably will if there’s some random endangered plant not native to the area over a fresh grave.
That’s why you put an animal corpse in a shallow grave and bury the body in a deep one.
They’ll stop when they find the coyote and move on. ”
“Should I be worried about how much thought you’ve put into this?” He cocked his eyebrow at me, a smile on his handsome face.
“Bitch, please, I routinely plot the deaths and disposal of people who piss me off. I’m never gonna do it, but it’s fun to fantasize.”
“You’re kind of scary for someone who looks like a cherub.”
I batted my eyelashes and put on my best innocent look. “I have no idea what you mean, sir.”
“It’s always the sweet ones you need to worry about. And the quiet ones.”
“That’s definitely not me.” I snort-laughed. “I’m physically incapable of being quiet. Want to see me lose my shit? Tell me to calm down or be quiet. If you’re gonna steal my sparkle, I’m gonna unleash on you for ruining my entire week.”
“Understandable.” He flexed my toes, then stretched them back. “Do you have someone to go to the meeting with you tomorrow?”
“Um…not really. Usually I’d ask my roomie or Gray, but Aiden’s working tomorrow and Gray’s hurt.” I chewed the corner of my lip. “I could ask the twins, but Zane’s in overprotective mode and I’m pretty sure he’d beat Richie Rich’s ass if he offered me cash for sex.”
“When are you thinking of going?”
“I’m working until six, so it’ll be late.”
“I can drive you, if you want. And go in with you. I’ve dealt with men like him before. I’m also used to reading contracts.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“That would be amazing. Thank you.”
He gave my feet a final squeeze then let go. “What’s your number?” He fished his phone out of his pocket.
I rattled it off.
“I sent you a text. Just let me know when and where you want me to pick you up. I’m free all evening. Do you have a ride home tonight?”
“Does Uber count?”
“Not at one in the morning.” He ruffled my hair.
I swung my legs off his lap and punched him in the shoulder. “Christ on a cracker, you’re solid.” I shook out my hand. “Warn a guy next time.”
“My bad.” He grinned. “Want a ride home?”
“Are you sure? You don’t even know where I live. What if it’s way out of your way?”
“I’m a big boy. I can drive extra miles to make sure you get home safe.”
“Stone!”
We both twisted to see Corey, who stood near the door to the back room, a big, fake smile on his stupid face.
“Yes?” Stone’s tone and demeanor became ice in an instant.
Corey’s gaze cut to me, then back to Stone. “Your last set starts in sixty seconds.”
Stone stood and turned his back on Corey. Corey shot me a glare and stomped out of the room.
Stone shucked off his sweats, revealing a pair of tiny red briefs.
I couldn’t not trail my gaze down his incredible body.
All the guys I worked with were ridiculously fit, and Stone was no exception.
Unlike Gray and the twins, Stone’s body was clearly the result of lots of gym time rather than working physical jobs, and the perfection of his sculpted physique was glorious to behold.
I wasn’t ashamed to say I’d watched his porn. He knew how to use that body in every way that mattered.
I lifted my gaze to his face, to find him grinning at me.
“Like what you see?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.
“Duh, dude. Have you seen you?”
With a wink he headed toward the prop closet to get the rest of his costume on before his set.
Usually the final number of the night was a group routine, but since Stone was the headliner, he got that honor all to himself, which would’ve had me sitting in the corner sulking and being mad at him. Except now that I knew the truth I felt guilty as fuck for being such a dickbag to him.
I’d never actually watched Stone dance unless I was on stage behind him playing backup. Even then, I’d been so focused on my choreography and not screwing up or smashing into anyone, I hadn’t paid him much attention.
Curious, I hurried over to my locker and pulled on my clothes. No one noticed as I slipped out of the back room and made my way to the bar, sticking to the walls and shadows to keep out of sight.
“And now, to close out our night,” JJ said over the loudspeaker. “Let’s welcome Stone back to the stage.”
The crowd screamed with the excitement of someone getting a free car from Oprah as the stage lights dimmed.
A spotlight flashed on, revealing Stone as he stood in the center of the stage.
The opening bars of “High for This” by The Weeknd filled the air.
Red lights illuminated the background of the stage, growing with intensity and dimming in swells that matched the sensual flow of the song.
Stone had put on a dress shirt, a tie, and a pair of slacks, pulling off the sexy CEO look with flawless perfection. Confidently, he sauntered to the pole, his strides long and fluid.
Leaning against it, he mindlessly tugged off his tie.
The beat kicked in as he tossed the tie aside.
He spent the next minute working off his shirt as he rolled his hips in time to the music.
He kept his expression bored and his movements casual, like he was alone in his room after work and getting ready for some sexy times before bed.
The voyeuristic approach was a hit, and the crowd was hollering. One lady a few feet away kept yelling “I love you!” over and over. Another screeched about wanting to have his babies.
As soon as the flow of the song changed, Stone flung his shirt off and gripped the pole, hooked his knee around it, then slowly spun in a circle, still acting as casual as could be as the crowd went bananas.
He touched his feet back to the floor and rolled his body in a wave as he leaned back, grinding on the pole and working it with the same skill he used on camera.
My dick stirred with interest as he continued to tease the audience with the pole and on the floor. Holy hell he was incredible. No wonder people flocked to see him every month.
Just before the three-quarter mark of the song, when the music intensified and the tempo changed into a slightly faster but even more sensual tune, Stone tore off the dress pants and leapt at the pole.
Christ Almighty.
My jaw dropped as he spun and flipped around it. Not only was he impressively flexible, his technique was flawless. He was hands-down the best pole dancer I’d ever seen, and he deserved every single bill that rained down on the stage as he pulled off one seemingly impossible move after another.
When the song finally ended, Stone slid down the pole like a fantasy fireman heading off to put out a fire with his dick, but instead of going to the platform to get his tips, he strode to the edge of the stage and sank down onto his knees, his legs spread wide and his fingers laced behind his head.
Women rushed the stage. A line formed in front of him, hiding whatever was going on.
I lifted on tiptoe to see through the crowd. When that didn’t work I jumped, trying to get high enough to see over them.
Finally, on my fourth leap, the throng parted enough I got a clear view. Stone was in the same pose, smirk-smiling as women stuffed bills into his briefs until they bulged with more than just his dick.
Something was off, though. He seemed to be enjoying the attention, but I knew that blank stare. He was disassociating hard.
Keeping to the shadows, I slipped into the back room to wait for the event to shut down and the club to empty.
It had been a weird-ass night, but in a good way. I had a solid plan for tomorrow, and I’d gotten to know Stone after all this time.
I just had to get through tomorrow. One more day and then I’d find out what Mr. Fancy Shoes wanted from me so my brain could finally stop obsessing over him and his mysterious offer.