3. Roman
3
ROMAN
Her oiled body gyrates on the pole, and the colored lights are playing a rainbow on the small droplets that hug her skin.
She’s gorgeous enough that I want to eat her.
If only she hadn’t talked during her interview. Her voice is like sandpaper on a sunburn.
The deep thrumming beat of the song comes to an end and she lands in a wide split, dropping her bare breasts to her cupped hands.
“Nice job, honey. Now, before you say anything, put that mouth to work like those hips were moving.” Leaning back in my chair, I unzip my pants and let my hard cock shift free of my boxers.
Her painted lips form into an “o” as she sits up. “Um, is that part of the interview?”
I let my fingers wrap around my hard girth and slowly stroke up and down. “Yep. Let’s see how committed you’ll be to your job.”
Her nipples bounce when she sits back on her heels.
A ray of light cuts across the stage, then narrows.
Caz’s heavy hand lands on my shoulder. “We got a problem out front, boss.”
Shit.
The dancer’s eyes widen as I stand. My jutting dick bounces before I tuck myself back into my pants. “Next time you can show me what you got. Talk to Marco, he’ll get you scheduled.”
She nods with a blank look before darting back to the dressing room.
“This couldn’t have waited a few more minutes?” I’m stiff-legged walking next to Caz towards the main entrance.
“Sorry, boss. We got a crowd.” He gestures at the milling faces that are standing near the double doors.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask Marco.
He’s standing in the front, holding everyone back. “We’re at capacity, boss. Some sort of fraternity convention this week staying in the casino behind us.”
Well, it may be a good problem to have, but it pisses me off that I’ll have to turn some of these potential customers away.
“How many can we take?” I start counting heads.
“Only fifteen more. There’s over fifty. You know the inspector has it out for us. He’ll be here in a heartbeat if we let ‘em in.” His graying mustache twitches as his nose wrinkles.
Yea. I don’t like the inspector either.
“Fuck. Fine.” I raise my hands into the air and yell loud enough they can all hear me. “I’m sorry gentlemen. There is only room for fifteen. You can choose amongst yourselves, or we can pick at random. Anyone who isn’t chosen tonight, I will personally give a voucher for a discount tomorrow night.”
After plenty of grumbles, the lucky ones cheer and head towards the bar.
When the rest file out, I turn to Marco. “We’re going to the Empire tomorrow to see if we can make them an offer they can’t refuse.
Closed?
Shit.
“We need to find the daughter.” The sun beats down on me, baking me in my dark suit.
“How do you want me to do that?” Marco scratches his cheek where a day’s worth of stubble has sprouted.
I throw up my hands and stomp back to the car. “Fucking Google, Marco. You’re not older than my dad. He knows how to use a computer. Jesus.”
He rubs his eyes. “Sorry, boss. I’m running on less than two hours of sleep after that college crowd.”
Sighing, I slide behind the wheel of my Maserati. “Same. We need another location. If I owned this place, we could have bussed them over and made a fucking fortune.”
The interior cools as we head back to the club, tempering my frustration with it.
If I can just find that Nadia woman, I’m confident I can get her to sell.
Her Empire is the key to expanding my own.