Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Fuck, how many cocks have cum on this seat? That’s probably what I’m inhaling.
“I heard I can get the full experience.” I slump back and grab my junk to show interest.
Wagging her finger, she steps up to the pole and spins around it. “Not in this club. You mean Bare Flesh. It’s members only. You shouldn’t even know about it.” She curls her leg around the pole and slides all the way down, spreading her legs once hitting the black box.
“Well, when the pussy is good, men like to talk about it.” I wink.
“It’s a kink club. What’s your flavor?” Her tits bounce with her movements as she gets into a kneeling position.
“Do you ever work down there?” I flick my tongue out to wet my lips, and her eyes follow the action.
Tutting, she steps down, spreads my thighs wider apart, and shimmies up my body. “The girls who work that club are trained in their field.”
“Fucking?” I ask. Agitation ignites in her eyes.
“It’s a kink club, each worker is a professional and trained.” Her tone has lost the sultry purr. “Do you want a hand job or what?”
“Listen,” I lean into her ear and stuff a couple hundreds into her G-string, “I usually come here to see a particular girl, Kelly, but she hasn’t been in and someone mentioned her moving to the club downstairs.”
Turning her head, her lips almost brush mine. I’m thankful she doesn’t suck dick in here. “Kelly hasn’t shown up for work. We’ve been trying to reach her.” A line slashes across her forehead.
“Maybe she’s been moved to the other club?” I pry.
“No.” She stands and crosses her arms, her tits resting on them. “Kelly’s a pole girl. She doesn’t even do private dances.”
A knock comes at the door, and a deep voice calls out, “You good in there, Goldie?”
“Yeah, fine. I think this guy prefers brunettes.” Turning on her heel, she opens the door. “We’re done here,” she announces, gesturing with her hand for me to leave.
“Thanks for the dance.” I ignore the bouncer glaring at me as I pass through the hallway back to the main bar just in time to see Lily being led up the stairs to Ronaldo’s office by two men.
Fuck.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Lily.
"Who does your nails? Mine are horrendous." I hold back my gag as I ask the question to the bartender bringing over an order of drinks. I've never painted my nails in my life, but I've heard club sluts talking at the clubhouse.
"Diamond Jewels on Harrison Road. Whitney—she's the best." Handing me a beer bottle, her gaze travels my body. "I love your dress. You could kill it here in tips if you ever need a job." She winks.
"Actually, my friend works here. I was hoping to see her." I keep my tone casual, shifting my gaze around the room.
"Oh really?" She hands out some more of the drinks, but her attention is set on me.
"Yeah, her name’s Kelly." She almost drops the glass she's holding.
"Kelly Lorre?" she asks, concern tugging on her brow.
"Yeah, we went to school together." I shrug, swigging from the bottle. The cold liquid sloshes in my stomach.
"She hasn’t been in all week."
"Oh, is she sick?" I place a hand on my chest.
"I couldn't tell you. The boss doesn't tell us anything. Enjoy the drink." She spins around and walks off taking some of the drinks with her.
A guy lurking around me throws his hands up. “My beer?”
There's a group of them for a bachelor’s party. Stepping into my personal space, he drags his lustful gaze over me. "What's the cost for a dance?"
"Your life if you don't get out of my face." I shove his shoulders, and he stumbles back, knocking into one of the girls entertaining another table. An older guy topples from his chair, and a chorus of yelling back and forth ensues.
Two bouncers appear, and I grin, hoping I'm about to watch the little pervert get thrown out—preferably with a fight. The two men stop before me, blocking my view with their mammoth frames. "Gentlemen, you make better doors than windows."
"Boss wants to see you," one of them states.
"Do my tits look like they're out?" I snap, attempting to get around them. They're pros and prevent me from leaving. "I don't work here, assholes."
"We don't care where you work. You're coming with us."
"And if I don't?"
"Don't make a scene and we won't have to," he grunts, grabbing my arm.
"Manhandling me will get you a scene. A bloody one," I growl. Taking my beer from me, the one yet to speak gestures to my arm with his head, and the brute releases me with a huff. My skin stings, but I won't show him it hurts. Folding my arms, I cock a brow.
"Well, take me to him then."
I glance over my shoulder, trying to spot Zane, as I follow them, not seeing him anywhere. He must still be with that stripper. A small whirling of jealousy pangs my stomach.