Chapter 5
Xavier
I step out of the shower, drying myself off as I walk. Leaning over the counter, I peer at my face in the mirror and breathe deeply. The marks on my face have faded substantially. There’s still bruising on my ribs and a pretty gnarly gash across my forearm from the windshield shattering against it. But all in all, my body fared pretty well.
My eyes skate to the small tattoo below my right hip bone, and I grimace. A small black and white butterfly about the size of a half-dollar sits there, mocking me. I don’t remember getting it, but I’m positive I was wasted or took a stupid dare with one of the boys. I still haven't had a chance to ask any of them about it.
Jonathan talked me into going out tonight with them. I don’t want to, but he can be pretty convincing, so here I am, preparing to go out and hopefully get annihilated. Maybe that will make me feel better about the shitshow my life has become once again.
A palm slamming against my bathroom door causes me to jump, and I hear Jonathan’s voice coming through the door. “Stop jacking off and hurry the fuck up, Xavier. Sebastian and Jamison are meeting us at the club in thirty minutes.”
I rip the door open and glare at him. His eyes trail down my body and back up again quickly before he bursts out laughing. I look down, wondering what the fuck his problem is, before realizing I forgot to wrap my towel around the lower half of my body and am standing there completely naked, dick blowing in the wind.
Jonathan is still laughing as I push past him to grab boxer briefs from my dresser. “Sorry brother, normally my dick is the one out giving the show when you're in the room. I can’t remember the last time I saw you shirtless, let alone naked. And when the fuck did you get a tattoo? Was that a butterfly?” He starts laughing again.
“Whatever. I don’t remember.” I mutter.
He stops laughing, and I turn to look at him as I button up my shirt. He just stares at me, making me feel uncomfortable as fuck. “What?” I ask irritably.
“Nothing man, " he says as he gets up from the edge of my bed and walks to me using his arms to turn me towards the door. “Let's go get wasted brother.”
Thirty minutes later, I walked into a local club with Jonathan. “Spin,” I say, “I always thought that was a stupid name for a club.”
Jonathan laughs and pulls me towards a VIP sectional in the corner. Jamison is already there, and for once, he is not on his phone. A waitress comes by, dropping off a set of whiskeys in front of us before removing tubed shots from a pouch on her side.
“Hell yes,” Jonathan says, grabbing at least ten. I raise my brow at him while he dumps them in the middle of the table. He laughs and hands me two before grabbing two for himself.
“Fuck it,” I say out loud before unscrewing the caps, “Here’s to jogging my memory while erasing a little at the same time.”
We both clink our shots together and down them at the same time. The tang of citrus, pineapple, and coconut hits my tastebuds.
“Fuck, those are good,” I say, wiping my bottom lip with my thumb. “Where’s Sebastian?”
Sebastian slams down across from me before dragging an intoxicated Riley onto his lap. He looks enraged.
Riley starts pouting before turning towards the table and eyeballing the pile of goodies in the middle. “Ohhhh, shots!” She exclaims, grabbing two for herself.
“I think you have had enough,” Sebastian growls, trying to grab them from her. One flies across the table, hitting me in the chest.
“Sorry, Xavier,” Riley singsongs before unscrewing the other shooter and tipping it back.
“Bad little mouse,” Sebastian says in her ear. “I’m going to punish you later.”
She giggles before turning towards him to whisper in his ear. I roll my eyes before glancing around the table. If Riley is here, that means her sister isn’t far away.
I look at Jamison, who is still staring in the same direction he was when I arrived. I follow his gaze and notice Kaz dancing on the dance floor, facing toward us. Another woman blocks her body but flicks her gaze towards Jamison while dancing suggestively. The woman in front of her is considerably shorter and has medium brown hair cut to her shoulders. It falls in loose, tousled curls, and she runs her fingers through them while she dances. “Spade” By Marilyn Manson plays in the background and her hips sway seductively. Fuck, I didn’t know a woman dancing to this song could look so sexy. Suddenly, Kaz flips her around to face us while grinding against her from behind. I’m stuck staring into the gorgeous green eyes of Riley’s sister Corrine while Kaz whispers something in her ear, causing her to bite her lip.
“I’m starting to understand why you like to watch, Xavier,” Jonathan’s voice creeps in from beside me. I jerk my gaze away and adjust my hard-as-a-rock dick discreetly under the table. “I’m not watching,” I argue and glance toward Jamison, noting the angered look he has on his face.
“Move,” he says, speaking to me and Jonathan but not taking his eyes off the scene before us.
Jonathan’s smile drops off his face before he replies to his brother. “Leave her be, Jamison,” he says.
I know they both have had a hard-on for Kaz since she started with the firm, but Sebastian made it pretty clear from the beginning that the head of HR was off-limits. I’ve seen their banter over the years, but I’m suddenly a little surprised. Did something change in the last year that I can’t remember? I always thought Kaz despised Jamison, but the way she’s dancing with Corrine while staring at him makes me think otherwise unless there’s something else going on.
I get it suddenly. I’m going to kill her. She’s dancing with Corrine to make me jealous. Well, it’s not going to work. I think those two forgot exactly who they were messing with. I am a voyeur, after all.
“I said move,” Jamison says again.
Jonathan rolls his eyes and nudges me to get up so Jamison can get around us. He stalks away in another direction, and I glance back to the dance floor to see that Kaz and Corrine are both gone. I find myself glancing around, searching for Green Eyes.
It’s for her safety, I think. I just want to make sure she’s ok.
Suddenly, a chair pulls up beside me, and Corrine sits directly in my sight line.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi,” I reply.
She’s just looking at me, and I’m starting to feel the familiar pull on my heart rate. I like to be the observer, not the subject, and the way she’s looking into my eyes without saying a damn word is setting me off. My dick grows hard in my pants as I imagine those eyes staring up at me while those pretty lips wrap around my dick.
Why is my dick getting hard while I’m having the beginning of a panic attack? Am I nervous? I’m never nervous. Maybe I do have brain damage from the accident. My leg starts shaking under the table, so I rub my hand down it to calm myself. A warm hand rests over mine and I feel a sense of calm wash over me for a split second before I rip my hand away. The look of hurt that crosses Corrine’s face guts me, but I can’t help myself. I don’t want her fucking pity. I don’t need it. At this point, I’m sure everyone at our table is watching us, and that just pisses me off further. I don’t want to be the center of attention. Leaning in towards her, I repeat the same words I said when I woke up in the hospital.
“Don’t touch me.”
I’m unsure what I expected, but it isn’t what happens next.
A flash of anger in her eyes goes so quickly that I'm not sure anyone else would notice before a smirk appears. She pushes the chair back and leans across me, quickly grabbing a tube shot and uncapping it.
“Sure thing, Butterfly,” she replies smoothly before downing her shot and heading back to the dancefloor. I look to Sebastian and Riley, who seems just as much at a loss for words as I am, before Jonathan whistles next to me.
“Damn, Riley, you didn’t tell me your sister was so spicy,” he jokes, attempting to break the tense atmosphere at the table.
I find myself rubbing my hip area where that tattoo sits, wondering if her words were a coincidence or something more. Anxiety cripples me and I find myself pushing back from the table.
“I gotta get out of here,” I mumble before standing and rushing away.
I hear Sebastian call out for me but I don’t stop.
I don’t stop when I make it out to the street and hail a cab.
I don’t stop when I tell the driver to take me to the one place I know can calm my nerves.
I don’t even stop when I throw far too many bills into the taxi before walking to the seedy little club I know far too well and opening the door.
Ben’s eyes widen when he sees me. “Hey man," he says, “long time no see.”
My eyes wrinkle in confusion and he notices it before continuing. “You haven’t been here in months. What happened to you?”
That’s weird. This was a pretty regular once-a-week thing for me.
“I was only in the hospital for a couple of weeks. It can’t have been more than a month since I’ve been here,” I say to him.
“Bro,” he replies, "Are you okay?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” I say sharply, causing him to flinch.
“Yeah man, no problem.”
See, that’s what I like about Ben. He doesn’t ask too many questions. He’s known me for a long time as a frequent visitor to this place. It’s just a little shit-hole strip club in the middle of downtown. Nobody important ever comes here and that’s just how I like it. That means I can do what I need to without anybody questioning or recognizing me.
“Are they here?” I ask.
“Yeah man,” he replies. “Becca’s on stage right now, and Lyla is with another customer, but I’m sure she won’t mind cutting it short for you.”
I follow him towards the back of the club, where we enter a familiar room with a blue velvet couch and a small stage with one single pole in the center.
“You have an hour,” Ben says before exiting and closing the door behind him.
Another door opens and two familiar faces rush in and drop to their knees before me.
“Oh my God X, we haven’t seen you in forever. Is everything all right?” Becca asks.
She goes to touch my leg before thinking better of it.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Just had some business to attend to.”
“Well, we’re glad you’re back,” she purrs before batting her long fake lashes at me.
“Are you wanting something different tonight?” Lyla asks hopefully.
“The same,” I reply. A look of disappointment crosses Becca‘s features before she schools them quickly.
“Of course,” she says, moving to open a duffel bag by the door they just came through.
“Touch yourself,” I say to Lyla, and she obliges by lying back on the floor and moving her hand beneath her panties.
“Are you wet for that big cock?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she moans while fingering her pussy. “I can’t wait for Becca to fuck me with her big cock.”
I groan and rub my hand against my already hardening dick before unzipping my pants and pulling it out.
Lyla‘s eyes widen. “Let me touch it please,” she begs.
“No,” I bark out. “On your knees.”
Becca has just finished attaching the strap-on and sachets her way over before standing in front of Lyla.
“Make her suck your big cock, Becca.”
She forcefully grabs Lyla‘s face, opening her mouth before shoving two fingers down her throat, making her gag. Fuck, I love that shit.
“Do it again,” I command, “but this time with your cock.”
Becca doesn’t waste a moment before shoving the thick strap-on in Lyla’s mouth.
“Turn it on,” I growl out and Becca presses the button on the inside of the dildo, turning on the vibrator.
“Oh, fuck,” she moans.
Every time she slams the dildo to the back of Lyla’s throat, the vibrator on the inside hits her clit, making her gasp in pleasure. Meanwhile, Lyla is still touching herself, moaning around the dildo. I would like to say I want to drag this out but tonight I’m just looking for something quick.
“On your knees behind her,” I command again to Becca. “Fuck her hard and fast. I want you both coming at the same time.”
Becca drops behind Lyla before grabbing both her hips and impaling her on the dildo, making them both moan in unison. I stroke my cock faster, tugging and squeezing at the head each time. I know I’m close and so are they.
“Pull her hair,” I grunt out. “Smack her ass.”
The sharp sound of a slap vibrates through the room before both girls are screaming through their orgasms. The sounds send me over the edge and I find myself coming hard into my other hand while I stroke and squeeze the last of my release out. I clean myself up and tuck my dick into my pants before resting my head back on the couch.
“We still have 30 minutes X. Is there anything else you want to do?” Lyla asks, biting her lip hopefully.
I casually point to two envelopes on the arm of the couch before leaning my head back and closing my eyes again. I hear her sigh before grabbing them and walking back towards Becca. I look up to see both girls exiting with their duffel bags in tow.
Only then do I finally stop and allow myself to break down. I punch the couch repeatedly before leaning my head between my legs and letting out a guttural roar.
What the fuck is wrong with me and why didn’t that feel as good as it should have?
I wordlessly exit the club and pull out the prescription in my pocket. It goes down dry and I know it won’t take long to kick in. I’ll be home when it does and maybe I’ll get some much-needed sleep.