Chapter 4
Calum
I recline on the red velvet booth of Club X’s platinum room, sipping a tumbler of expensive whiskey.
My eyes are focused on the gleaming silver pole in the center of the room.
Beneath it, low lights seep from the bottom of an elevated stage.
The walls and floors all echo the same shade of dusty, iridescent red.
A low melody is pumped through unseen speakers, the sound brash against my ears. As I look up at the door, I see the top of the blonde’s head through the open doorway as she climbs the last few stairs.
Anticipation slides down my spine. I take her in as she mounts the steps.
Long blonde hair, blown out to fall over her slim shoulders in a gleaming mass.
Tawny hazel eyes, high cheekbones, a pert nose, and a small slick of hot pink on her mouth.
Her lips alone are an invitation, parting as she lays eyes on me.
My gaze slips down to the rest of her body.
She wears a sheer white kimono, an iridescent black bikini underneath that, and tall silver heels.
Her tits are pushed up, looking small but tempting.
As she stops at the door to toe off her heels, she turns and gives me a glimpse of her long legs and fantastic ass.
She’s a dead ringer for Honor. At another time, in another setting, she could be the delicate prima ballerina. The same one that broke my heart back when I was young and foolish enough to still believe in that fairytale.
She enters the platinum room quietly, tilting her head as she takes me in. “I’m Cerise.” She swings her hips as she struts toward me, her eyes wide and innocent.
Like she doesn’t work in this fucking club and make her money by grinding on strange men. Like she isn’t working me right now, trying to figure out my weaknesses.
Her feigned innocence does something to me. It makes my cock hard, yes. But it also makes me think dark thoughts.
Violent thoughts.
My mouth tightens just a little. “You can call me Mr. X.”
Her eyebrows lift just a fraction as she comes close to me, putting a hand on the velvet booth. She leans down, giving me a peek of her creamy cleavage. “You want me to dance for you, X?”
My cock stirs. Her tits are small and firm, pressed up by her bikini top. I drag my eyes up to her face, my voice erupting in a guttural rumble.
“Mr. X,” I correct her sharply. “And yes. I want you on the pole.”
She flashes me a smile. She turns, hips swaying, and heads back toward the door. “How long do you want me, baby?”
She presses a discreet button and her music comes on, sultry and low. She turns toward me, an eyebrow lifting. “Is this loud enough?”
I couldn’t care less about the music, honestly. Chances are that if it was made in the last hundred years, I won’t like it anyway.
I flap my hand, uninterested. “I’ll buy all of your time tonight, Cerise. Just hurry the fuck up. I want to see you dance like you did downstairs. That’s why I chose you.”
Her cheeks stain hot pink. She glances at the floor for a moment. “You saw me dance on stage?”
As she asks, she starts moving toward the pole. Hopping onstage, she starts to approach it. I sit back, feeling my pulse pick up.
“That’s right,” I say. I try to play it cool as though she’s not about to take her clothes off and try to make me horny. Sucking in a deep breath, I tell myself to relax.
She hops up onto the platform and starts gyrating her hips, running her hands up through her hair and down the front of her body. Her eyes close and then pop open for a moment, pinning me in place as she rubs the silky material covering her pussy.
Something about her expression, a heavy lidded innocence, really fucking turns me on. She’s like a virgin giving off fuck me eyes for the very first time.
I know it’s all a show. I know that it can’t be real. But I let myself sink into the moment, let myself be swept along by the tide.
Cerise grabs the pole and swings around it, undulating her body.
I tilt my head to the side and bite my lower lip.
She climbs the pole deftly, leaning out and then letting her back bow until she touches the floor with her hands.
She does the splits in midair, her kimono falling so that I can see her legs and her material covered pussy.
“Take off your robe,” I order.
A little smirk appears on her face. She dismounts the pole by doing a roundoff, then gives me a sultry look. She unties her kimono slowly and then shrugs out of it, leaving her in the black bikini.
I take a sip of my whiskey, trying not to show how base my thoughts are. I’m excited by the slight curves of her hips as she dances before me. She bows before coming back up very slowly, never breaking eye contact with me.
Then she grabs onto the stripper pole with one hand and lifts onto her tiptoes. Her arm arches gracefully above her head. She leans forward, extending her leg behind me. I trace the curve as it lifts behind her.
When I saw her do this move before, I thought that perhaps she had some ballet training. But now I think it’s more than that.
My lovely little ballerina is truly talented and well trained. The fact that Cerise is working here at Club X is a puzzle. She’s been involved in a hardcore ballet program somewhere, I can tell. Unless she has recently quit, she is doing something very forbidden in the ballet world.
I sit back and watch her climb the pole again, hiding a smirk. Moonlighting here is a definite no no, whether her program explicitly says so or not.
The song shifts just as she pulls on the strings of her top.
“Cerise,” I command. “Come here.”
I pat my thigh. She blushes, climbing to her feet. Her hips sway as she pads over to me. Her cheeks color again when she stands over me, leaning forward to push my shoulders back against the red velvet booth.
As she looks me right in the eye, I wonder how she manages to blush on cue. I know it’s doubtless a manipulation of some sort. But I have to say, it’s working on me. I can feel myself falling under her spell.
Especially when she straddles my lap and sinks down so that I feel the exquisite pleasure of her ass against my thighs. My instinct is to grab her, to take control.
I am always in control.
But I just ball my hands into fists and tense my whole body.
“You should be mine,” I tell her, looking at her perfect little tits.
She puts her hands up against the booth behind my head. “I am yours, Mr. X. You can ask me for anything tonight.”
I scowl. “What if I want you at my beck and call? Hmm?”
I raise a hand and push her hair off her neck. It’s so fucking silky and soft against my fingers.
Cerise shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
She rolls her body, grinding against my cock. My eyes narrow on her face.
“I could be your patron. That’s what all the girls here want, isn’t it?”
Her brow wrinkles. “Too much talking. Not enough dancing. Don’t you agree?”
I clench my jaw. I think she just found a polite way to tell me to shut up. Then again, she’s pretty much dry humping me. I try to relax, try to focus on the softness of her skin, the gentle hint of rose that wafts off her neck, the warmth of her pressed against me.
It’s almost like intimacy and just as addictive.
She looks me in the eye; I can see from this close that her eyes are tawny brown with green flecks. She presses her hands against my chest, biting her lip, and leans close to my ear.
I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but she just lets out the breathiest sound, the tiniest of moans. She grinds her body against mine as she grabs my hands and brings them to her waist.
“Fuck,” I grit out. I’m surprised at how this girl has managed to turn me out. I lift a hand and plunge it into her hair, wishing more than anything I could pull her in for a kiss.
Of course, I can think of other ways that she could please me… My eyes are glued on her mouth, imagining her on her knees, opening those lips, sucking my fucking cock.
My cock is currently pressed between our bodies; each time she grinds on it or rolls her body, I come a little bit closer to doing something very, very wicked to my little ballerina.
“Tell me something,” I whisper. “Do you know how much this turns me on?”
She blushes and grins. She undulates her body, rolling it against me, and cocks a brow. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Instinctively, my grip tightens in her hair. She’s so dainty as she rides my lap, so angelic and yet so fucking dirty. She gasps in surprise as I start to move against her, thrusting my cock up between our bodies.
She stills for the barest moment; I seem to have crossed one of her boundaries though she doesn’t say so.
I take my hand out of her hair and return it to her waist, knowing that I could easily snap and take things too far.
I’ve done it before.
Hell, I’ve even done it at this club, in this booth. I’ve definitely gone all the way from kissing to fondling to being blown by a stripper.
There is something holding me back from Cerise, though. I don’t know if it’s the fact that she’s obviously had ballet training or the faux innocence that she projects. Maybe it’s her smell, a vague splash of rose but nothing too fake or flashy.
But I look into her eyes and something echoes between us. A longing, perhaps.
I wish I was the kind of man that she thinks I am. She probably just sees wealth and good looks when she looks at me.
But beneath that scarily thin veneer lies something so twisted and so dark that there is no chance at redemption. Not for me.
Cerise drags me from my thoughts by pushing up off my lap and sinking to her knees. She rubs her hands up and down my thighs, biting her plump lower lip and making eye contact with me. She lowers her head and kisses my thigh.
My eyes close for a second. Shivers of anticipation run through my veins. She’s barely even touching my leg. I haven’t felt this kind of crackling excitement since I was a teenager.
God, if Honor ever touched me like this, ever sat on my lap and ground against my cock, I—
I don’t even know that I’m going to come before it’s already happening.
By the time I realize that my balls are tingling, it’s already too late.
I’m literally so surprised that I don’t even warn her that I’m about to come.
I don’t say anything; my brain and my mouth are both too out of it to do more than whisper, “oh fuck.”
The orgasm bursts over me and spurts out the tip of my cock, which twitches like it is fucking possessed. It’s like a dam of pleasure has suddenly broken open. From the top of my head all the way down to my toes, I feel my endorphins pumping into my bloodstream, causing a moment of pure euphoria.
Cerise swipes her hand too close to my dick and gets a wet, sticky palm print. She looks at her hand, then looks up at me. Her eyes widen with genuine shock.
“Oh, Mr. X—” she starts, blushing furiously.
As if she’s never seen it before. As if she didn’t work for it, teasing me. As if she didn’t cause it to happen.
I shut down.
“Move,” I bark at her.
She scrambles back, standing up. My mouth twists into a grimace as I pull a card from my pocket. It’s all black with a shiny stripper pole outlined in red. I force the card into her hands.
“Here. It’s five thousand dollars.”
I turn toward the door, ready to leave. My heart still beats like a drum in my ears.
“Wait, this is… for me?” she says, sounding a little taken aback.
I pause, looking back at her. “It’s less than I make a minute. Take it.”
Then I stride out of the room, leaving her standing there, mouth agape. I hurry out the club, pulling up my phone to text my limo driver. My hands are shaking a little as I step out onto the darkened street.
Damn. Despite my best efforts, I still went way too far. I turn and look up at the club, a nondescript building on a street full of warehouses. I see a window open a few floors up; faintly, I think I can make out a pair of wide hazel eyes staring back at me.
Cerise.
As the limo pulls up, I get in the back seat, not bothering to wait for the door to be opened. I feel vaguely dirty. But as I give the order to head home, I already know the truth.
I’ll be back to visit her.