CHAPTER 4 #2
I never really liked the private sessions with men. Marco knew that. But, every once in a while, men would be willing to pay more than enough for a session with me.
Marco turned most of them down but came to me about the good ones— respectful ones. And not once was he wrong.
So, when Marco confirmed the private session I had tonight, I wasn’t as nervous because I trusted him.
I headed to my dressing room to get ready. I was torn between two different sets but ultimately ended up choosing the black lingerie.
I made my way to my assigned room with a racing heart, and when I entered, the room had a dim red glow to it. The soft music was sensual, adding to the thick atmosphere.
I closed the door behind myself, finding my new client already at his seat with his back toward me. He brought the glass to his lips while his free hand rested on the table. I watched his pointer finger tap the table repeatedly, and with a deep breath of courage, I approached him.
I opened my mouth to speak but froze.
“Breaking and entering is a crime, you know,” I mused, holding the stare of his green eyes. There was no way that he had just booked a private session with me.
“Yeah?” he lowered the glass to the table.
I smiled as I loosened my coat, revealing my black lingerie. His eyes didn’t waver from mine, but I did notice the tick in his jaw. I dropped my coat on the empty seat before hopping up on the table, swinging my legs.
“What are you doing here, and where’s Nic?” I asked, glancing over at Mr. Stalker.
He seemed confused. “ Nic ?”
“Yeah, the—” I cut myself off as he stared at me intently. Oh? Maybe he really did book a private session with me. This was going to be interesting .
I grinned . “My services aren’t exactly cheap,” I told him, resting my palm on the table. A beat barely passed, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a fat wad of cash and handing it to me. I took the stack, scanning through clean hundred dollar bills. I smiled, dropping it on the table.
I leaned forward, my lips merely inches from his as I whispered, “In case you were wondering… no, that doesn’t cover physical touch.”
Something enticing flickered behind his eyes, and this time, he pulled out a card and slipped it between my breasts. “That won’t be a problem,” he confirmed, and I looked down. A black Amex. Of course.
I pulled his card from my chest, dropping it on the wad of cash before hopping off the table.
The room had a small stage with a poll placed more towards the left.
I grabbed the remote, changing the music, and my heart hammered in my chest . Crazy In Love- Remix by Beyoncé was my favorite.
With steady, deliberate steps, I swayed my hips.
Slowly, I trailed the pad of my finger around the metal pole as I walked around it—not breaking eye contact with him. Oh, this is going to be fun.
I wrapped myself around the pole, sending my heart racing—adrenaline coursing through my veins. He tracked my every move, his eyes not tearing from my body. His gaze burned into my skin as he undressed on the pole.
My hands caressed my body sensually as though he was the one touching me. My moves were steady and deliberate, and when I caught his dark gaze, it felt as though the room had gotten warmer.
I lowered myself to my heels and dropped to my knees, moving to the music as my hands leisurely roamed my skin, my back arched, and my eyes enticed him.
After my performance, I strutted toward him and dropped to my knees in front of him. Steadily, I dragged my hands up the insides of his thighs and didn’t miss the faint amusement flickering behind his eyes. Someone was clearly enjoying the view.
I trailed my fingertips over his crotch and something burned behind his eyes. As I ran my hands up his chest, I got onto my feet, arching my back just enough so that he could see the curve of my ass—keeping my face mere inches from his.
His lustful gaze felt like a gentle touch as he tracked my every move.
I turned, lowering myself on his lap as I arched my back against his chest. I grinded my hips against his crotch, throwing my head back onto his shoulder.
My skin buzzed with warmth as I grabbed his hands, dragging them along the insides of my thighs.
Slowly, I pulled his hands up my stomach, placing them on my breasts before squeezing. I could feel his shaky breath on the side of my face, and I fought back a smile.
I knew that I was performing a service to a paying customer.
And I knew that he wanted this. But, deep down, something inside of me wanted him to want this.
I always believed that as a woman, you could be stronger than the most powerful man, as long as you got them excited—at least enough to allow lust to cloud their vision.
And he was all power. Not only was he extremely handsome, but he looked at you with just the right amount of intensity to trigger the inner submission inside of you.
I had never been a woman who dropped down to her knees and willingly obeyed a man. It just wasn’t in me. But with him, that faltered at times. His touch, his gaze, his demeanor, all of it ignited a dangerous flame of desire that I couldn’t extinguish but fought tooth and nail to.
With a firm grip on his hand, I dragged it down my stomach, slipping it over the thin lace of my panties. His hand cupped me between my thighs, and a soft sigh fell from his lips as I rolled my hips into his hand.
His lips grazed my ear as his free hand squeezed my breast in response, and I rolled my hips in a circular motion on his lap.
A deep, strained groan left his throat. The low rasp of his taunting voice fueled my magnetic pull to him as he pressed his lips to my ear. “You’re so good at that.”
My heart thumped at the sound of his voice in my ear, so I whipped around, straddling his lap.
His eyes had shifted.
Now, he stared back at me with pure lust. Like a man who was on the verge of losing control. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing my chest into his and flicked his earlobe with my tongue.
My lips hovered over his ear as I rolled my hips against him, making him grip my hips with a strained groan. I trailed my tongue over the shell of his ear, and his fingers dug into my skin as he lifted his hips underneath me.
I could feel how hard he was through the material of his slacks, so I took it as my final cue.
I pulled back to unbuckle his belt, but he grabbed my wrists, stopping me. My heart leaped in fear at his sudden aggression, and I let go.
Swallowing the tension, I leaned in towards his ear. I grabbed his hands, placing them on my ass as I flicked his earlobe with my tongue.
“Sex only works when you take your pants off,” I whispered, rolling my hips against him, and his grip tightened. “Yeah?” I teased.
With my hands caressing his biceps and shoulders, I slowly rocked my hips back and forth, and I could him feel him getting into the rhythm as well.
I kissed his ear, pressing my chest to his, and his body tensed under mine.
I held the sides of his neck with my hands, flicking his lips with my tongue. “Scared?” I whispered, not tearing my eyes off his lips.
His tone was strained, like it pained him to utter his next few words. “I’m not having sex with you.” His words yanked me back into a cold reality.
I let go of his face, creating some distance between us.
“Why not?” I asked, but my question came off worse than it should have.
“No,” I quickly shook my head. “I meant that, usually when guys whip out their bank cards it’s because they want more than just a dance,” I explained. “Is this part of your twisted fantasy?”
His eyes dropped to my lips for a second, and my pulse throbbed in my neck.
“How many times have you done this?” he asked, and suddenly, I didn’t want to be on his lap anymore.
I was perplexed. “You’re asking me now, how many times I’ve had a private session with other men?”
“Answer my question.” His voice was rough, and something told me that unless my answer was zero, he would not be pleased.
“It’s really none of your business,” I shot back, keeping my voice low and steady.
The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Answer me, Nirah.”
I swallowed a lump down my throat, hesitant to speak. The words left my mouth in a faint whisper. “Three times.”
As expected, he did not like that answer.
A beat passed, and he reached over, grabbing my coat, and handed it to me.
Feeling utterly lost by this interaction, I got off his lap and slipped it on. He ran his fingers up and down his jaw in thought, not tearing his eyes off of me, and I noticed something dark pooling behind his eyes.
Suddenly, the atmosphere had changed, and a pit grew in my stomach at the thought of him being repulsed by me.
“Well, fuck you too,” I said, grabbing the money and his card. “And you can keep your goddamn money,” I dropped it on his lap before leaving room and shutting the door behind me. Asshole .
Nausea stirred in my core and suddenly, I didn’t feel too good.
I was used to men making me feel like shit. And, it most definitely got worse when they found out what I did for a living. To them, I was nothing but a pretty face who didn’t deserve respect.
My steps came to an immediate halt as I watched paramedics rush out of the men’s bathroom with a stretcher. Everyone was gathered around, staring at the scene in terror.
I glanced down at the man with a bullet hole between his eyes as they passed me and my heart dropped. Nic .
* * *
“Dad, are you home yet?” I called out but nothing. He was usually home by now, either passed out on the couch or watching the game in his bedroom.
I checked the entire house but he was nowhere to be found. I called his cellphone but no one answered. Where is he?
I finally got to his bedroom and when I stepped inside, an eerie feeling slithered up my spine. The room was dark, and cold . I walked over to his bed, spotting a white piece of paper. What’s this?
Picking it up, I unfolded it. A handwritten letter.