“Sweetheart, he deserved that heel to the dick; no need to apologize.”
I turn my head, my brown curls blocking my vision and I shake them away as I sit up.
“So what next? You want another double or do you want me to take the pole from Hazel?”
Pyro’s beautiful grin lights up like the sun and somehow I gather I’m not gonna like the words coming outta his mouth next.
“Prez wants a private show,” he says matter-of-factly.
I scramble up and cap the bottle.
“If you think I’m sucking your president’s dick, you, my friend may not be using yours for a very long time.”
“Oh Star, if you weren’t one of Rich’s girls, I swear to god.” He chuckles. “Trust me on this. Whatever the Prez wants, he’ll get. You take one look at him, and you’re gonna be a goner just like the rest of them. But for now, my brother just wants a dance.”
I knew this was a lousy idea. Hazel owes me big time. Speaking of Hazel…
“And Hazel?” I ask.
“Oh no, I’m not letting her anywhere around the Prez.”
“What?” I screech.
“She looks mighty fine tonight; I plan on taking her to my bed.”
I love how he just assumes I will be staying with the president tonight. But I’m extremely happy Hazel will get a piece of Pyro so she’ll get on with her life.
“Alright, boss wants you blindfolded.”
“Oh hell no, Pyro. Who do you think I am?”
I start panicking while my head shakes back and forth so fast I make myself dizzy. This is insane. I don’t do the whole insane thing.
“Baby, it’ll be OK. Rich is a close friend of mine. I would never let anything happen to one of his girls. You feel me sweetheart?”
“Pyro, I swear you owe me.”
“Done,” he says standing and taking a black blindfold outta his back jean pocket.
As Pyro wraps the blindfold around my eyes, I tell him that Hazel had better have at least ten orgasms. When he asks me why, I simply tell him the truth. That I don’t wanna hear his name or see his face ever again. Of course, Pyro, being the sexy stud he is, just laughs at me while leading me down a hall and up some stairs. I count only twelve, so it’s not a long way up.
The sound of a door opens, and I imagine we’re walking through the doorway now.
“She’s all yours Prez, and remember, she doesn’t mind well. She’s one of Rich’s girls. You know how strong and independent they are.”
And just like that, I’m alone with a stranger I’ve yet to set my eyes on and obviously for reasons unknown, I’ll probably never get to see him. I seriously hope he’s not some ugly creeper.
The hair on my arms stands at full alert as warm air smelling of whiskey breathes on my neck. Oh god. My stomach gets butterflies; this shit is f**ked up.
“Angel, you’re shaking.”
Oh. My. God.
That voice could melt chocolate. Please let his face match that sex filled voice; please, please, please I silently beg as my panties dampen.
“I can smell you,” he rasps out.
Shit, that’s hot. Please keep talking. Now I see why Pyro says that he can get anyone he wants. I haven’t even seen him yet, but I want to spread my legs and beg his tongue to drip nasty words all over my core.
Get it together Winter; it’s just a voice. Just words. You’re here to do a job.
“You wanted a private dance?” I ask, my voice coming out way too breathy.
“No sweetness, I don’t.”
“Erm... I don’t understand…,” I trail off. I forgot what they said his name was.
“Name’s Braxxon baby and I wanna touch an Angel.”
Oh man, how do I respond to that? The air freezes in my lungs as I try breathing. Just when I think things can’t get any worse, I feel his warm calloused hands run up my arms as he guides me to a bed. I’m not a whore. I’m not a whore, but right now, I want to cry because I feel like one. I became a dancer to dance, not screw the cliental.
“I’m not a whore,” I croak.
“I know you’re not a whore; I don’t plan on ramming my c**k into you tonight. But tomorrow, I make no promises. A man is only so strong.”
Oh hell’s bells.
How does he make everything that comes out that mouth sound so sexy, smooth, natural and not wrong? His voice reminds me of velvet. Velvet can be rough and smooth all at the same time.
While I’m stuck questioning things in my head, his hands have removed my wings and unclasped my top. Next he smacks my hips, and it doesn’t take me long to figure out what he wants, so I lift my rear and let him slide my thong down. He leaves my heels on so he must have a fetish. I should be worried, but he did say he wasn’t screwing me, so I try to reel in my nerves. Maybe he actually just wants to touch me.
“Open up, Angel.”
I shake my head no until his thumb grazes my bottom lip and then I understand he’s talking about my mouth and not my legs. I almost sigh aloud in relief as I comply and open my mouth.
Something round is placed on my tongue, and I bite down. It’s a cherry… a cherry filled with Tequila. Oh, that’s yummy. I groan as my taste buds dance for more.
If I didn’t know any better, I would assume that biker president Braxxon is a closet romantic. So when I blurt out my next sentence, I expect him to be offended; instead, he just answers me back.
“Are you sure you’re a biker dude?”
I turn my head, my brown curls blocking my vision and I shake them away as I sit up.
“So what next? You want another double or do you want me to take the pole from Hazel?”
Pyro’s beautiful grin lights up like the sun and somehow I gather I’m not gonna like the words coming outta his mouth next.
“Prez wants a private show,” he says matter-of-factly.
I scramble up and cap the bottle.
“If you think I’m sucking your president’s dick, you, my friend may not be using yours for a very long time.”
“Oh Star, if you weren’t one of Rich’s girls, I swear to god.” He chuckles. “Trust me on this. Whatever the Prez wants, he’ll get. You take one look at him, and you’re gonna be a goner just like the rest of them. But for now, my brother just wants a dance.”
I knew this was a lousy idea. Hazel owes me big time. Speaking of Hazel…
“And Hazel?” I ask.
“Oh no, I’m not letting her anywhere around the Prez.”
“What?” I screech.
“She looks mighty fine tonight; I plan on taking her to my bed.”
I love how he just assumes I will be staying with the president tonight. But I’m extremely happy Hazel will get a piece of Pyro so she’ll get on with her life.
“Alright, boss wants you blindfolded.”
“Oh hell no, Pyro. Who do you think I am?”
I start panicking while my head shakes back and forth so fast I make myself dizzy. This is insane. I don’t do the whole insane thing.
“Baby, it’ll be OK. Rich is a close friend of mine. I would never let anything happen to one of his girls. You feel me sweetheart?”
“Pyro, I swear you owe me.”
“Done,” he says standing and taking a black blindfold outta his back jean pocket.
As Pyro wraps the blindfold around my eyes, I tell him that Hazel had better have at least ten orgasms. When he asks me why, I simply tell him the truth. That I don’t wanna hear his name or see his face ever again. Of course, Pyro, being the sexy stud he is, just laughs at me while leading me down a hall and up some stairs. I count only twelve, so it’s not a long way up.
The sound of a door opens, and I imagine we’re walking through the doorway now.
“She’s all yours Prez, and remember, she doesn’t mind well. She’s one of Rich’s girls. You know how strong and independent they are.”
And just like that, I’m alone with a stranger I’ve yet to set my eyes on and obviously for reasons unknown, I’ll probably never get to see him. I seriously hope he’s not some ugly creeper.
The hair on my arms stands at full alert as warm air smelling of whiskey breathes on my neck. Oh god. My stomach gets butterflies; this shit is f**ked up.
“Angel, you’re shaking.”
Oh. My. God.
That voice could melt chocolate. Please let his face match that sex filled voice; please, please, please I silently beg as my panties dampen.
“I can smell you,” he rasps out.
Shit, that’s hot. Please keep talking. Now I see why Pyro says that he can get anyone he wants. I haven’t even seen him yet, but I want to spread my legs and beg his tongue to drip nasty words all over my core.
Get it together Winter; it’s just a voice. Just words. You’re here to do a job.
“You wanted a private dance?” I ask, my voice coming out way too breathy.
“No sweetness, I don’t.”
“Erm... I don’t understand…,” I trail off. I forgot what they said his name was.
“Name’s Braxxon baby and I wanna touch an Angel.”
Oh man, how do I respond to that? The air freezes in my lungs as I try breathing. Just when I think things can’t get any worse, I feel his warm calloused hands run up my arms as he guides me to a bed. I’m not a whore. I’m not a whore, but right now, I want to cry because I feel like one. I became a dancer to dance, not screw the cliental.
“I’m not a whore,” I croak.
“I know you’re not a whore; I don’t plan on ramming my c**k into you tonight. But tomorrow, I make no promises. A man is only so strong.”
Oh hell’s bells.
How does he make everything that comes out that mouth sound so sexy, smooth, natural and not wrong? His voice reminds me of velvet. Velvet can be rough and smooth all at the same time.
While I’m stuck questioning things in my head, his hands have removed my wings and unclasped my top. Next he smacks my hips, and it doesn’t take me long to figure out what he wants, so I lift my rear and let him slide my thong down. He leaves my heels on so he must have a fetish. I should be worried, but he did say he wasn’t screwing me, so I try to reel in my nerves. Maybe he actually just wants to touch me.
“Open up, Angel.”
I shake my head no until his thumb grazes my bottom lip and then I understand he’s talking about my mouth and not my legs. I almost sigh aloud in relief as I comply and open my mouth.
Something round is placed on my tongue, and I bite down. It’s a cherry… a cherry filled with Tequila. Oh, that’s yummy. I groan as my taste buds dance for more.
If I didn’t know any better, I would assume that biker president Braxxon is a closet romantic. So when I blurt out my next sentence, I expect him to be offended; instead, he just answers me back.
“Are you sure you’re a biker dude?”
