Текст книги "Aurora James"
Автор книги: Jessica Ingro
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
I was wrong. I wasn’t going to make it.
The light blue lingerie I had purchased was riding up my ass with each grind and turn as I danced on the platform. The lace abraded my ass crack and I feared the men would start laughing and pointing if I tried to adjust it. What did a girl have to do for a moment alone to pick a wedgy?
Candy sat in a man’s lap on the other side of the room, plucking cherries from a bowl and feeding them to him while alternatingly slipping them in her cleavage for him to pluck out with his tongue.
A girl I met for the first time named Destiny was dancing with Cherry on the opposite platform from mine. Both girls gave me the evil eye whenever we made eye contact.
When I’d shown up for my shift, I’d discovered the reason the lot looked empty. Dancers and customers parked in an underground garage, the entrance of which was hidden at the back of the building. If I hadn’t been having such a bad day, I probably would have found it nearly as fascinating as the secret door.
Sophie had been more distraught than usual when I dropped her off at Ruth’s house. Her crying and whining cost me precious time, and I ended up being fifteen minutes late, which was only added to when I couldn’t figure out the parking situation as quickly as I probably should have. Not a good impression when I had started only a few days before.
As the night wore on, my mood continued to plummet as song after song passed, and minute after minute droned on with not a single man approaching me for a service. I didn’t know if that was because I had spent most of the last three hours dancing up here or if it was because no one wanted me. The thought was unsettling.
I tapped a finger on the end of my nose to give Ghost the signal I was getting down. He nodded and then spoke into an earpiece. Next thing I knew Destiny was moving from her platform over to mine. When I passed her on the way to the stairs, she bumped me with her shoulder and gave me a sneer.
God, women could be so petty at times. Weren’t there enough men to go around? Seriously.
I made a quick stop in the restroom before doing a walk through the room. Before letting me loose that night, Candy had schooled me on the ins and outs of working the barroom since I had no scheduled Johns for the night.
There was always to be at least two girls dancing on the platforms at a time for the men who came in for a drink and nothing else. If we weren’t dancing, then we should be working the room.
Whenever a new client came in, we could approach them or wait to see if they approached us. Once the connection was made and they were ready for more… action… then Ghost or whomever was running the show would finalize the transaction and we would go back to our respective rooms. If the client was there for a threesome or orgy, we would take him or her into one of the half dozen VIP rooms in the back.
When I had asked about the exchange of money, Candy had laughed and waved me off, saying, “Unless the client leaves you a tip, you never see anything until Trixie makes the payouts. Before anyone can become a client, they go through testing for STDs and background checks. If they pass, then they either put down a retainer or have a card on file. Trixie takes care of all that behind the scenes.”
I found it all very interesting. It was such a tightly run ship. I wondered if Xavier was a control freak or just overly protective of us.
“And what about the secret door?” I had asked her before we both started our shifts.
“What about it?” She tipped her head to the side and blinked at me.
“Why so secret? It isn’t like everyone doesn’t know how to get back there.”
“We know how to get back there and sure the clients do too if they’re paying attention—which, by the way, most of them are too busy groping you to notice—but if the cops ever came, they wouldn’t know. What you see out here—” she circled her finger, indicating the main room “—looks like a strip club, or heck, even a gentleman’s club. No real sexual activities take place inside these four walls. That’s how X stays under the radar.”
It all made complete sense, and even though my gut tightened at the thought of getting arrested for solicitation, I was grateful for the extents Xavier had gone through to keep us all safe.
“Hey, sugar,” a younger man called out, stopping my progress circling the bar area. He was cute in a barely legal sort of way. With his crew cut hair and letterman jacket, he was the epitome of every high school or college girl’s dreams.
“Hey, handsome,” I said in a low voice, trying seduction on for size. A small part of me cringed at how silly I sounded, but the rest of me ignored it when the man’s nostrils flared and his pupils widened.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come down and talk with us lowly fools,” he said. His hands came out to rest on my waist as he pulled me between his legs. It was a presumptive move, but I allowed it, knowing there were eyes everywhere and if he so much as breathed on me the wrong way, he’d be out of there.
“I don’t see any fools here,” I flirted back, resting my hands on his forearms. “What are you in the mood for tonight?”
His right hand came up to my face, cupping my cheek while his thumb ran across my ruby red lips. “Been wanting to see these wrapped around my cock for the last hour.”
My breath caught and my tongue snaked out to moisten my dry lips. His meaning couldn’t have been more clear if he had spelled it out.
“Sounds like a plan,” I said in a husky voice. It wasn’t lust driving the lower tone, but rather my anxiety about giving him a blowjob. Every girl thinks she knows what she’s doing when it comes to sucking a dick. You never really have to worry that much if the guy doesn’t like it because either you love each other or you know sex is coming next. Except when he’s paying for nothing more than a blowjob. That’s where the pressure really came in.
With his fingers laced in mine, we crossed the room to where Ghost had been. In his place now was a short and stocky man I had never met before.
“Peyton,” the bouncer greeted my client and I cursed myself for being dumb enough to not even ask the guy his name before agreeing to put him in my mouth. I still had so much to learn.
“What’s up, Big J?” My client greeted the other man back. “Put a blowjob from Miss…”
“Aurora,” I supplied for him.
“Aurora on my account.”
“You got it.” Big J made a note on the tablet in front of him before doing the special knock on the door for it to open.
Once past the threshold, Peyton laced our fingers together again and followed me to my room. It felt like it took forever to get there, the anxiety and anticipation building to an almost explosive level.
If I weren't careful, I would start hyperventilating and end up choking on his dick.
Now that would be embarrassing.
With the door to my room shut, I turned on the side lamp, which cast a soft glow across the windowless room. Peyton crowded me against the wall, his breath sweet from the alcohol he was consuming. His hands ran down my back, around and up my stomach before cupping my breasts. His thumbs brushed my nipples until they turned into tight peaks.
When his head dipped and his mouth claimed mine, I welcomed the rough way his hands gripped my ass and pulled me tightly against his hard body. And boy was he hard. His erection bit into my stomach as he plundered my mouth with his tongue.
Remembering what we were here for, I reached up and undid his belt before popping the buttons on his jeans. His hips pressed into my hand when I palmed him through the rough material.
When my hand dipped inside and found him hot and hard, he groaned into my mouth and pressed me even deeper into the wall.
Either he was really happy to see me or this guy had the uncanny ability to go from zero to sixty in no time flat.
My feminine wiles took a bow, believing it was them that had him so turned on.
I pushed him off me, wanting to take control and knowing what my ultimate purpose was in having him in my room. He stood in the center of the room with his nostrils flaring and his chest heaving. The hungry look he gave me had my stomach flip-flopping.
“Take your top off,” he demanded. “I want to see your tits.”
I shrugged and reached behind my back to unclasp my bra. It didn’t really matter to me if he wanted me topless. It was his time and money after all.
Sinking to my knees in front of him—grateful for the area rug over the hardwood floors—I looked up at him through my lashes and licked my lips.
“Oh God,” he groaned when I reached inside his jeans and this time pulled his cock free. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t the smallest one I had ever seen either. I guess you could say he was average sized and bent slightly to the left.
Keeping my gaze on his, I licked him from root to tip, stopping to curl my tongue around the head. I repeated my actions, teasing him with my tongue when I knew he really wanted inside my mouth.
When my lips closed around the head and I sucked him down into the back of my throat, he let out a guttural sound of satisfaction. My left hand held him firmly at the base while my right cupped his balls, rolling them between my fingers. His hands threaded through my hair as I worked him in and out of my mouth.
“Fuck. That mouth,” he murmured as his fingers traced where my lips were stretched around his cock.
When his balls grew tight and drew up slightly, I applied more suction and moved my hand up and down, adding to his pleasure. Within minutes, I was rewarded when he groaned his warning. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”
I pulled my mouth back and watched as he thrust into my hand, pumping his seed all over my exposed breasts. A stray shot hit my chin, making me want to laugh at how pornographic it was, but I didn’t think that would be kosher.
A glance down at his softening cock had me pleased thanks to the red ring of lipstick I left behind. With a shaky hand, Peyton smoothed the hair from my face and gave me a panty-melting smile. It would seem he liked the visual as well. Or maybe it was the act itself that had him looking so relaxed and happy. Didn’t really matter either way.
Peyton went into the bathroom and washed up after me. I slipped my bra back on and fixed my makeup in a small mirror that hung on the wall while I waited for him. Setting my lipstick down, I turned to him when he came back into the room.
“You have skills,” he praised before putting a fifty-dollar bill in my palm. “I’ll be sure to ask for you again.”
“Thanks,” I said with a blush on my cheeks.
Second client down and I was doing okay. Dare I even say I felt empowered by the way both men had succumbed to me? It was a heady thought and one I’d have to explore later.
Five hours later, my feet were killing me and I was ready to go home. There was nothing glamorous about standing in stilettos for eight hours wearing underwear that looked good but weren’t practical to move around in.
When Peyton and I emerged from the back, Ghost was back at his perch. If I wasn’t mistaken, his jaw tightened and he gave us a disapproving glare before barking into his earpiece. I shrugged it off and said goodnight to my client before heading back up on the platform to dance.
While I flirted with several potential suitors, none had hired me for any services, which was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that I didn’t need to perform any further sexual acts. A curse in that not having more clients meant not having more money. Sure, the men often left tips for the dancers to split, but that wasn’t very much in the grand scheme of things. Especially compared to the big payout I’d gotten from my time with Marx.
Candy was sitting at the bar having what she said was her customary cocktail to end the evening when I came out with a blue dress on and my purse in hand.
“How’d it go?” She waved me over and signaled for Cheech to get me a soda.
“Good. Only one client tonight, though,” I said dejectedly.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she comforted me. “It takes time for it. There were quite a few of us on tonight and not lot of clients who tend to do more than drink and leave tips. Tomorrow will be better. You’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right,” I told her through a forced smile.
After a couple sips of my soda, I decided to bail, anxious to get home and soak my feet while watching a movie. I put my palms on the bar to stand up and had just said goodbye when I spotted Xavier out of the corner of my eye. He was dressed in his customary suit and had a swanky brunette draped on his arm. She exuded confidence and class, making me feel like a redneck in comparison. I fought the curl of my lip when she laughed at something he said as they disappeared behind the secret door.
“He doesn’t touch the merchandise.” Candy’s words had my head whipping in her direction.
“What?”
“I see the way you’re looking at him. Trust me, we’ve all looked at him like that. Some still do. But I’m telling you now, it will never happen. Best to get over it and move on.” Her tone was sympathetic and made my fist clench. I didn’t need her sympathy. All there was between Xavier and me was some feminine appreciation on my side. No woman in her right mind wouldn’t find him intriguing with his dark looks, bulging muscles, and cool demeanor.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I assured her. “Besides, the most interaction I’ve had with him is when he came to my house to pay me for the Marx gig. It isn’t like we seek each other out.”
“You’re telling me X came to your house? To pay you?” Her disbelieving look had my arm pausing on its journey to set my purse on my shoulder.
“Yes,” I answered her timidly. The way she was reacting was much the same as the way she had when I’d told her about Marx to begin with. I had a sudden concern that she might get annoyed with me and start treating me like Destiny and Cherry did.
She let out a low whistle and leaned forward so no one could hear any more of our conversation. “Honey, X doesn’t go to any of the girls’ houses. And he sure as shit doesn’t pay us directly.”
“Maybe it’s because it was Marx. I got the feeling they were friendly with one another.”
“That may be true, but Marx or not, I’ve never known X to do anything himself that involved the girls. No, that isn’t right. If one of the girls gets roughed up, then I’ve seen him handle retribution himself.” At my wide eyes and pale face, she said in rush, “Don’t worry. That doesn’t happen a lot. Most of the issues they’ve had have been from boyfriends. X takes treating a woman with respect very seriously.”
My voice trembled when I spoke. I never imagined I’d ever be in danger working here. Everything seemed so organized and secure that the thought had never crossed my mind. “Candy, I have a little girl who needs me.”
“I know, honey. Pretend I never said it. The guys work really hard to keep this place upscale and safe. It’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” I said, although I wasn’t sure I believed it.
“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.” She stood from the bar and grasped my hand before letting go, knowing exactly what I needed in that moment.
Later that night, with a bottle of wine making me feel loose and pliant, I decided not to let Candy’s statement scare me. Going forward with my eyes open just to be safe, I had to trust that Xavier knew what he was doing.
A week later, I was dancing on a platform, wearing a sheer black one-piece lingerie number with panels that strategically hid my assets, when the door burst open and at least a dozen men came in. The noise level immediately rose with them and my stomach dropped in anticipation, knowing this could be my chance to make more money.
One of them had to want to hire me, I thought ruefully.
It had been a long week of mostly being on my feet in killer heels—something I wasn’t accustomed to. Men came in and men left. Not once had I had a single client. It made Cherry snicker and only added fuel to her need to harass me. Just the day before I had caught her in the private lounge area in the back for us girls talking shit about how worthless I was.
While I had still earned nearly two thousand dollars in tips over the last week, which was quite a surprise—I mean who knew men paid that much just for the dancers—it still wasn’t enough. After having a taste of the higher paying clients, I knew what I needed so I could build the life that I so desperately wanted. And the sooner I had the money for it, the sooner I could stop being a hired escort.
Yes, I said escort.
I chose to call myself an escort instead of a prostitute. You know—tomato, tomahto.
Other than the fact that I seemed to be undesirable to the general male population, nothing extraordinary had happened in the last week.
Liar, a little voice whispered in the back of my head.
Okay, maybe something had happened that I decided I was reading way too much into.
Xavier had become a permanent fixture on my shifts since the night I saw him and that woman. Whenever he was around, his eyes seemed to track my every move. A handful of times, I had worked up the courage to make eye contact with him, daring him silently to look away and prove my suspicions were wrong, but he never did. He held my eyes until it was me who looked away.
The rational part of me knew he was probably just watching me since I was new. The romantic part of me believed he was as drawn to me as I was to him. I couldn’t remember the last time I had wanted someone as badly as I wanted Xavier. Problem was, even if I was right and he did want me, I wouldn’t know what the hell to do with a man like him. He was dark and dangerous, the complete opposite of what I was used to.
Big J greeted the group of men as they situated themselves at the bar and spilled over into the tables surrounding it. Ghost was off duty tonight, which surprised me. The man always seemed to be around.
Big J appeared to have no issues handling the rowdy group before going back to his perch by the secret door.
Candy came up on the podium and started gyrating her hips in time with the music. “Why don’t you go see about hooking you one of them fine boys over there?” Her head nodded in the direction of the bar.
“You think?” I asked her. My self-worth had taken a huge hit when time after time I smiled and flirted with men, yet they never seemed to want more. The couple of times I thought for sure they were going to talk to Ghost to hire me, they just had a conversation with him and then either left or moved on to another girl.
“Honey, that little number you’re sporting is ah-ma-zing! I would kill to look like you do tonight. Go! Hook yourself a man!” She shooed me away with her hands. Not many girls here would give up their chance to make some money just to help someone else out. So, before I exited the stage, I grabbed her in a quick hug and then practically bounced down the steps.
When I got close to a cluster of men, I saw they all had the same emblem on their shirts and my heart skipped a beat. They were firefighters, the whole lot of them, and most of them were sizzling hot. I wouldn’t be surprised to find them on a calendar somewhere.
Fantastic.
Whistles and catcalls began as I rounded a table and sat in one of the better-looking men’s laps. He was a buff, sexy ginger, reminiscent of Prince Harry. When my ass settled in his lap, his face reddened and I smiled at the fact I could make him blush.
I had found that playing up to the men was a lot like acting. For just a little while, I pretended I was a vixen. Thinking of it that way made it seem easier.
“Hey, sexy,” I whispered seductively in his ear.
“Hey,” he croaked out, making several of his friends laugh at his expense.
“What are you in the mood for?” I went straight for the gold after seeing how he responded to my flirting.
“Don’t bother with Timmy, sweetheart. He’s got a ball and chain about to be locked to his ankle. You’d be better off coming over here and sitting on my lap,” a man with a slight paunch and salt and pepper hair said to me.
Timmy’s hands tightened around my waist, holding me on his lap. “Piss off, Greg. She’s fine right where she is.”
Either Timmy wasn’t feeling as tied to his ball and chain as Greg thought or he was just trying to camouflage the fact that he was sporting wood without me even grinding on him.
The men continued ribbing each other while I kept my perch on Timmy’s lap, pretending to be engaged when really I was just wondering how much longer I had to keep up this charade before something happened.
“So you’re getting married, Timmy?” I asked when there was a lull in conversation thanks to a couple girls bringing over a tray of drinks, drawing the other men’s attentions their way.
“Yeah. Next month.”
“You don’t sound too excited about it,” I noted and plucked the cherry from his glass, bringing it to my lips and sucking it in. His eyes followed the movement and he visibly swallowed.
“I am,” he said, his eyes still fixed on my mouth.
“Then what is a nice boy like you doing here? Doesn’t really seem like your thing.” I tilted my head to the side, my hair swishing over my shoulder and drawing his attention down to the cleavage visible through the panels of my sheer one-piece. Timmy licked his lips and answered, “It’s not.”
I wasn’t surprised by his reply. His honesty only seemed to fuel my desire to prove I was desirable in the eyes of the men who patronized The Den. After being rejected over the last week by men clearly out for a good time, it was an out-of-control need I possessed to claim someone who wasn’t.
I leaned in close to his ear, my tongue snaking out to graze his lobe, making him shiver beneath me. “Am I your thing?”
“Yes,” he whispered. His hands went up to grip my waist again, only this time his hands landed higher, just under my breasts.
“Would you like to go back to my room and see what kind of naughty things we can do together?”
“I shouldn’t,” he protested, albeit weakly.
“What she won’t know won’t hurt her,” I encouraged, even though a small part of me felt sorry for his fiancée. If it were me, I wouldn’t want a woman trying to weaken my man’s resolve. Unfortunately for her, he came here to begin with, which meant he was fair game. Twisted logic? Probably, but it would help me sleep at night.
I could see Timmy’s inner struggle behind his eyes. He wanted it. He just needed something to push him over the edge.
Adjusting myself on his lap so I was positioned fully over his groin, I used my hands on his knees to lift my ass in the air slightly before grinding down over him. I faintly heard his groan over the music and smiled inside.
Timmy’s hands cupped my breasts and pulled me back flush against his chest. It made my inner muscles clench.
Wow, how aggressive of him.
“Okay, but no fucking. It’s not really cheating if I don’t fuck you.” His hot breath teased the hair at the nape of neck.
So that was how he was going to rationalize it to himself?
A quick burst of guilt filled me at the knowledge that he was very much cheating on his fiancée even if he wasn’t sticking his penis in my vagina. It was just semantics.
Now that I knew I did have some sex appeal, I shouldn’t go through with it. I should let him walk away with his integrity intact.
I tamped down that line of thought. I needed the money, and Timmy wasn’t as innocent as he looked by coming to a brothel with his friends. He knew what happened behind those doors and he chose to walk through them anyway.
No. I was just doing my job by getting him off. If I walked away from him now, nothing was stopping one of the other girls from seeking him out. My conscience was going to have to take a back seat if I was going to make it in this place.
“Alright then.” I rose from his lap and entwined our fingers as we made our way over to Big J. It didn’t take long for them to work out the details of our half hour together, and then I was leading Timmy back to my room.
I felt a sense of accomplishment when the door clicked shut behind me. Timmy might use my body in various ways for the next half hour, but I wouldn’t be sleeping with him. It seemed like a win-win in my opinion, not having to go all the way.
“Sex is off the menu,” I reminded him as he lounged on my bed. “So what would you like me to do first?”
“Naked,” he croaked out. His eyes that were green the first time I looked in them were now dark with his desire.
“I definitely think you being naked is the way to go.” I closed the distance between us and ran my hands under his t-shirt and up his abdomen before gripping the hem and pulling it over his head.
His chest was toned and sprinkled with red hair. His arms were muscled, most likely thanks to the heavy equipment he carried while on duty.
Timmy stood up when I moved to his jeans. After removing his shoes, he helped me pull them off his legs. His cock stood at attention, pointing at me like an arrow. I had to fight a giggle at the thought. It was really hard to be serious when you weren’t exactly turned on. Timmy was good looking, but he did nothing for me. I idly wondered if this was something I would need to get used to.
“Your turn,” he reminded me.
“You’re right.” I pulled the sheer material down my arms and let it fall, revealing my breasts, which Timmy seemed to appreciate if the way his cock twitched was anything to go off of. Shimmying the material over my hips, I stepped out of it and spun around slowly for his perusal. “Now what should we do?”
Timmy licked his lips, his eyes fixed on the spot between my legs. “I want to taste you,” he finally confessed.
Like a cat, I crawled across the bed on all fours, stopping in front of him. Lying on my back, I spread my legs wide, offering him an unhindered view of what he was paying for.
“Damn,” he breathed before settling between my legs and exploring me with his fingers. His thumbs spread my lips for him and his head descended. That was when I held my breath in anticipation of that first sweep of his tongue. I might not have been turned on before, but there was a faint throb taking up residence between my legs right alongside Timmy’s head.
He ran his tongue along the flesh from my entrance right up to my clit. My head fell back and a moan left my mouth.
That felt good, I thought, bracing myself for the next onslaught. It never came, though. Instead, Timmy stiffened his tongue and began poking my entrance with it like he was fucking me with a tiny dick. Did he really think this was what women wanted? I mean sure, once the juices were flowing this felt good, but right then it was doing nothing for me.
My poor clit felt neglected as he sloppily tried to eat my pussy. I stared at the ceiling, remembering to clench the sheets at my side and moan every few seconds. All the while, I kept reminding myself this was all for the greater good.
Deciding the torture against my pussy needed to be done and quickly, I decided to go for the crescendo. I gripped his hair and held him in place, pressing his head deeper into my flesh. My hips rose and fell, and I moaned almost theatrically like I was coming.
Timmy rose over me after I loosened my grip on his head. His cock slipped into my folds and he began thrusting himself against the general vicinity of my clit. This had some potential if I could just get… my position… there! The word was cried out in my head when I shifted my hips enough to angle him against my clit.
His breaths came in harsh pants against my neck as he moved himself in a fast rhythm, apparently not wanting to savor anything, instead choosing to race to the finish line.
I allowed myself a moment to feel bad for Timmy’s soon-to-be wife. She was in for a long life of mediocre sex with this one. Even when Kevin was a drugged out asshole, he was still better between the sheets than this guy.
“Oh fuck. Oh yes,” he began chanting. His hips pumped faster.
I squeezed my eyes and stopped bothering to chase the orgasm that was beyond my reach, instead gripping his ass and pulling him to me to help him along.
It worked, and within seconds, Timmy was shuddering and convulsing as his cock that was trapped between our bodies pumped his release all over my lower stomach.
Timmy lay on top of me with his head buried in my neck for several moments while he came down from his high. I trailed my fingers lightly over his back in a soothing gesture that seemed to come second nature to me.
“That was great.” He chuckled softly as he lifted himself off me.
“Mmm hmmm,” I said noncommittally.
“Do you mind if I?” He gestured towards the bathroom and I shook my head. Typical man, thinking about himself first while I had the evidence of our time together drying on my skin.
I grabbed a tissue from the box on my nightstand and wiped off my stomach before grabbing a bra and pair of panties from my wardrobe.
Somehow I felt a little used after that whole display with Timmy. I’d known what I was getting into, sure, but I had always assumed I’d at least enjoy myself whenever I was with a client. And while I was relieved I hadn’t been subjected to what I was sure was Timmy’s stellar love making abilities—insert snort—it would have been nice to have had that time to possibly get myself off.
I really needed to talk to Candy and see how she dealt with situations like this.
The door to the bathroom opened and Timmy came sauntering out, fully dressed. He gave me a lopsided grin and stood awkwardly by the door. Giving him the escape I’m sure he craved, I placed my hand on his chest and leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Good luck with the ball and chain.” Leaving him standing at the door, I went and took a shower, hoping to scrub away the icky feeling I was left with.
When I came out of the shower, I rolled my eyes at the twenty-dollar bill sitting on my nightstand. He could have at least given me a better tip to make up for the fact I had to fake it.
Then again, it’s better than nothing, I reminded myself.
Shaking my head, I put the money in my purse and then went out in search of Candy, locking the door behind me on the way.
After a quick sweep of the main room came up empty, I found Candy and Brandy in the lounge room. I flopped down on the couch next to them and heaved a sigh.
