by K A Sands
The song playing was one I loved, had an easy beat to dance to, complimenting the pole moves. I wasn’t rusty either. Quite often I got up on a pole when the doors had closed for the night, then went home aching, moving muscles I wasn’t used to. A pole dance was a work out in itself, one I enjoyed when all eyes were gone for the night.
Thumping, sultry beats continued, my moves braver as I got into the groove, the nerves finally slipping away as quickly as the rhinestone bra I’d snapped off while I hung upside down. Tightening my thighs, I stayed put and flipped the clasp open, extending my arms, the bikini landing to the floor with a thud.
Touch the toes, legs spread wide, pole right behind. Drops, hangs, flags and locks; I could do these moves in my sleep. I danced on auto pilot, nothing around drawing my attention except the music and the way the pulse of rhythm reverberated through my body. Sweat clung to me, and my chest heaved when I made my last play. The bumslide to splits was a beginner move but my punters didn’t know that, and it had always been a good way to finish - legs spread wide, facing the audience. The dirty old men at the back loved it.
Ignoring the money that had been thrown onto the end of the stage once the song had finished, I climbed from the floor as gracefully as I could and collected the long thrown off heels and my bra. The noise levels in the club had increased, my smile genuine when I made my way back stage. Muscles screamed from overuse, having vowed it was my last pole, I’d put my all into it. Gave my punters the show of their lives, whether they knew it or not.
Struggling to catch my breath, the euphoric sensations made me lighter and lazy in minding my surroundings. I was always careful, the back corridor had the club’s toilets as well as the dressing room, and although it had never happened and there was a double lock on the girl’s room, there was always a chance an over eager customer could intercept one of us. Letting my guard down turned out to be a mistake of epic proportions, I’d missed the danger.
Corralled into the wall of the dim corridor, I had no chance to open my mouth to scream before ashy smelling fingers closed over my lips and a large body plastered me against the wall. My heels hit the floor with a thud while my head hit the concrete with a crack. I stared up into the meanest face I’d seen in a long time - and I’d seen some in Charlie’s company through life.
“Where is he?” The gritty voice was menacing, sending a barb of dread through me. I shook my head as much as I could under the weight of his palm. “He’s owe someone and they’re getting mighty impatient, love.”
Charlie was coming back to bite me in the arse, like I always knew he fucking would. He’d said he was due a favour, didn’t he? This wasn’t going away until his debt was paid. There was nothing else for it but to deny, tell him I had no idea what he was talking about.
Removing his beefy hand from my mouth, biting fingers clasped around my throat, squeezing until it became painful. Those fingers could easily snap my neck if he was so inclined. Tears spilled from my eyes as I sucked in thin air, assessing the situation I was in. Fucked was what I was, so very fucked.
“You’re a pretty little thing.” The big guy took a step back and blatantly ogled me in a way that turned my stomach inside out.
“Four days, darling. Then we’ll be back.”
My attention swung to the other equally as large man standing a foot behind the brute holding me against the wall. He smiled lecherously then winked at me. “Charlie owes. He doesn’t appear, we come collect from you, Princess.” The awful term of endearment Charlie always used was testament to the fact they knew exactly who I was, they were more than familiar with my father.
“Yeah. You hear him.” Stepping back into me, an undeniable bulge against my stomach made me feel queasier than I already was. “I’m kinda hopin’ your old man don’t turn up,” he laughed. “Looks like you might be just what I need.”
I was in deep shit. Charlie was gone. It was going to be up to me to pay that debt, whatever the fuck it was, and I only had four days to figure it out.
“Charlie doesn’t come here.”
Movement from my side at the far end of the corridor caught my attention at the same time as the big man, and he stepped away again, still laughing. “See you soon, darling.” Winking, him and his mate sauntered off down the corridor, not even sparing a glance at the figures they passed at the end of the hallway.
Tony stood looking at me, Warren just behind him. Their presence was enough to get me moving, leaving what I’d dropped on the floor behind. I booked it to the changing room, slamming the door once reaching my safety zone. Collapsing onto the couch at the far end of the room, I held my head in my hands, trying to right myself, stop the racing heart threatening to thump me to death. The high was less euphoric now, more a mindless fear. I struggled to breathe.
What the hell was I going to do? Charlie’s associates were the types to take their pound of flesh and then some, asking questions later if they had any. They’d want to send a message or use me to bait out a dead fucking man who’d never show face.
Cold hands on my knees startled me, and I flinched backwards on the sofa to see Warren kneeling in front of me, his face full of concern. I laughed. Because really, it was utterly ridiculous. Sitting in the back room of a strip club with a stupid gold thong on and nothing else, the man I’d been shagging, was worried about me.
“What?” I snapped, noting the door was closed. It was just us, which irritated me for no legitimate reason.
“You all right?”
Pushing his hands from me, I glowered at him. “Fucking peachy, Warren.”
Sighing, he stood, then began rummaging around the room, coming back to me with a white club t shirt and handing it over. Who cared I was almost naked? However, his sentiment wasn’t lost on me, and some of my anger simmered down.
“Thank you.”
“What were you doing on the pole tonight?”
What the what, now?
Two guys had accosted me in the back corridor, one with a hand around my throat, and he was lamenting over me stripping. Lovely. I rolled my eyes and made sure he saw how tedious and irrational I thought he was being.
“Working.” I threw the t shirt on not wanting to face him. “You should leave. There ain’t nothing for you here.”
“There’s plenty here. Don’t do this, Chrissie.”
“Piss off, Warren.”
He was on me a second later, pushing me into the couch as he straddled my lap, his weight keeping me in place. Gripping my jaw in his hand, he forced my head back giving me no other choice but to grant him the attention he demanded.
A storm brewed behind those eyes of his, dark and almost menacing, but a comfort in contradiction. He had every right to be angry over my attitude I supposed, but I was doing him a favour.
“You don’t get up on that stage again, you hear me? You’re done with that shit. You’re the boss, hire another girl.”
Who the hell was he to tell me what to do? I was furious when I yanked my chin free and jutted it toward his face in defiance; daring him to speak again. His hands came down on either side of my head, caging me in, then he swooped down and kissed me.
Fierce. Angry. Devouring. A kiss I’d never had from him before.
His lips against mine were rough as he took my mouth. There was no waiting to see if I would comply, no - he plundered and stole what he wanted. Had me unintentionally wriggling underneath him, looking for friction. When his fingers gripped the back of my neck, the touch searing me, he kissed me again like he lived for this very thing between us. It was too heavy, too confusing.
Submission came swift, everything falling away except the thud of my heart beating wildly in my chest for a very different reason than being frightened. His groan of contentment hit my ears, the pulse in my neck throbbing.
There were many sides to Warren I’d come to learn, this was one he kept on a short leash, never asserting himself often. He had an alpha streak a mile wide; the mild-mannered Warren that sat at my bar frequently was what he
showed people. Behind closed doors, when the mood took him, he was animalistic, and when he let go, it was messy. Explosive. Addictive.
My body had a will of its own, hands reaching out to pull at his jeans, ripping open the button and yanking at his zip. Pressing into me, Warren trapped my hands between us, rendering my fingers useless in their attempt to get to the goods. He grabbed a fistful of my hair then pulled my head back, biting into the flesh of my neck.
Moaning like a wanton bitch, I succumbed to the sensations rolling around my belly, my skin flushing and prickling as Warren sucked around my throat, teasing his erection against my trapped hands.
“No more pole,” he muttered between sucks and nips.
My pussy flared hot and I could feel how wet he was making me, my nipples grazing the soft cotton of the t shirt.
Then he was gone, shuffling backwards, his rough hands ripping the t shirt fabric straight down the middle, baring my breasts to him. He took one in each hand, tightening his fingers around the globes of soft flesh with vigour. I bucked up into him as pain mingled with pleasure.
I could think of nothing more than Warren fucking me. I needed his cock deep inside, wanted him to ravage me and make me come more than I’d ever wanted anything before.
Climbing from my lap, he nudged my legs wider and planted himself between my knees, his broad shoulders spreading me further apart, the cold fabric of his jacket soothing against my scorching skin. Dragging fingertips down my stomach, he teased across the front of the ridiculous thong I was wearing.
“Warren,” I breathed, caught up in the moment. Caught up in him.
Only him.
His finger slipped under the elastic and dipped into the folds of my sopping wet pussy. Thumping my head back against the sofa, I rode the wave and drowned in lust for the man on his knees for me. In and out he dipped, not all the way, but enough to have me begging for more. His head came forward and he tugged the damp material to the side, his hot breath blowing over what he’d exposed.
Another moan - longer and deeper - involuntarily crawled up my throat. When his mouth and rasp of stubble connected with my flesh, I let out a sharp yelp, my hands flying to his head, searching for something to hang on to.
That beautiful mouth of his made a meal of me, like he was a starved man who’d found the best thing he’d ever tasted. Warren teased and slurped and sucked, blunt fingernails digging into the insides of my thighs, taking me higher and higher. Now and again he’d flick my clit with the flat of his tongue then suck hard.
It wasn’t enough. Oh, it felt amazing, but not near enough. Winding fingers in his hair I pulled sharply, begging quietly. He could read me like an open book, his fingers slipping inside, going deeper. Probing at my lips with his tongue, he continued his assault that rode tandem with the plunging of his two fingers, a third teasing at the cleft of my arse cheeks, rubbing over sensitive nerves forcing my body taut with anticipation.
I climbed, and I climbed. Up and up with each withdrawal and entry he gave. Just as I started to ride that euphoria, my muscles running tight and fierce tingles overcoming me, Warren’s third finger pushed into the tight entrance and I soared.
Rigid legs, muscles clenched, I let out a battle cry as I convulsed around his fingers. He stopped, letting me take my pleasure while he watched me crawl along the line of ecstasy he’d drawn out. My chest rose and fell with each spasm until I relaxed and let my limbs go lax. Warren untangled from me, climbing back up and over, offering me his drenched fingers. Sucking them into my mouth, the salty essence tasted sharp, my tongue lapping it up anyway, while Warren’s eyes never wavered from mine.
“Better?” I nodded, unable to use any words. “No more pole.” Removing his fingers, he wiped them across his thigh before leaning in and kissing me, softer and gentler than he ever had before.
God, if only.
If only I wasn’t me, I could have what he was offering. There was a promise in his kiss I had no business wanting to collect. I didn’t deserve a man like Warren.
“No more pole,” I whispered my own promise back.
Shrugging from me, he stood up and pulled his jeans together, fastening back up without so much as another glance my way. “Who was that in the hall?”
The crash back to the glaring reality of what he was to me, was instant, like I’d been pushed and had landed face first at the bottom of a rocky cliff. It hurt. His question cut abruptly through my post orgasmic haze and I sat straighter on the couch, pulling the ruined t shirt around myself and closing my legs, feeling marginally less vulnerable.
“They were looking for Charlie.”
“You need to let Ryder know they’ve been around.”
I’d call Ryder in the morning but honestly, what could he do? Charlie’s debt was chasing me down and there was little anyone other than myself could do about it. “I will.”
He looked at me, the storm in his eyes long gone, replaced with something akin to regret. I didn’t like it one little bit and for the first time since I’d met Warren, I felt used up and spit out even if he hadn’t fucked me.
“I’ll see you around, Chrissie.”
There was little time between my mouth gaping open and the soft snick of the door closing behind him. Warren had left, leaving me to wonder exactly what he was playing at. Wondering what the whole point of the breaths I took on a daily basis were.
They hurt, they drowned. They made me bleed with every passing second. My crown had slipped so far, there was no reaching to right it.
Warren
My car was parked a street away, the walk back feeling like dredging ten miles through sludge. I plodded from the club with heavy steps and an even heavier concern dousing me with apprehension. The taste of Chrissie still lingered in my mouth, her scent still permeating my nostrils.
I couldn’t stay. She wasn’t ready. If I’d taken her home, I would have said something in regret, unable to take back the day after. My mood had already been at boiling point after Kayleigh’s tirade of put downs when I’d dropped Kieran off earlier. Then seeing Chrissie on that goddamned pole? I wasn’t in the mood for any more rejection and Chrissie had it written all over her face, even after I’d given her an explosive orgasm.
My dick had been throbbing in my pants, aching to be inside her, I’d almost come just watching her take what she needed, when she shuddered around my fingers. It would have been all too easy to have stripped down and took what I wanted, too. But something had stopped me.
Lost in my head, I almost missed the big fella barrelling at me from the side, turning just in time so that his fist glanced off my jaw instead of connecting full force. Didn’t matter, I was tussled into the dark alleyway with a chokehold from the guy who had been standing behind the meathead in the back corridor of Chrissie’s club. The bigger guy pushed in front until we were halfway down the alley and out of sight from the main road.
Fuck.
His next punch landed square with the side of my head, my neck whiplashing painfully, black clouding my vision for a moment.
“That’s a pretty little pussy you’re fucking around with, Warren.” He laughed in my face. “Charlie know your screwing his princess?”
Chrissie’s father’s name snapped my attention and I growled as the prick behind me tightened his hold on me. Both my hands yanked at his forearm to no avail, the guy was a huge fucker. I was big, leanly muscled but I had nothing on the brute behind me, they both dwarfed me in comparison.
A hand squeezed the front of my jeans, my stiff cock thankfully having deflated while my mood soured with each step I’d taken from Chrissie. Grabbing my junk, I let out a painful cry at his grip.
“You got big balls, boy?”
“Fuck. You.” I spat.
“Oh,” he sniggered. “Seems he has, Mikey boy. You wanna play with the pretty thing?”
I struggled harder in the hold, only rewarding myself with a half-crushed windpipe and less air than a second before, my dick slowly pulverised by the meaty hand holding on.
Jesus Christ. “Argh!”
“Could do with a bit of cock, mate.”
Putrid breath assaulted the side of my face as the fuck head loosened his grasp and licked my cheek. The bigger guy moved in closer, his chest to mine. Nausea was coming at me, the thought of being violated in a shitty alley by two thugs, far too much to stomach.
“My mate here,” his eyes flicked over my shoulder then back to me. “Likes fucking pretty things. Makes it so they ain’t so pretty anymore. Ain’t that right, Mikey?”
I heard the grunt from behind and as I was pushed in the chest, Mikey’s bulging dick digging into my back was obvious and petrifying. I was in trouble, big fucking trouble.
“And you’re a pretty, pretty boy, ain’t you? Almost as pretty as that gash you’re shagging.”
He gripped my chin and tilted my head backwards, regarding me for a moment, then he spat in my face and laughed again. I fought, with both fists, swinging futile punches, trying to kick out at the same time. Both men were too big and before I knew it, Mikey hand had come around my waist and was undoing my jeans while the other guy grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the sides of my body.
Fuck. No.
My feet were kicked apart, my jeans and boxers forcibly yanked to the top of my thighs. “Oh, that’s a nice bit of meat you got there, mate. Get a gander, Johnno.”
Johnno looked down between us, smirking as he saw my soft cock, exposed and hanging between my legs. “Huh.” Leaning forward he whispered into my ear. “And you ain’t even hard. I’m fucking impressed.”
My chest rose and fell harshly, panic warring with resignation, the air around us stilling. The only noise piercing the alley was the sound of what I presumed was Mikey’s zipper, and my harsh attempts to grasp for air.
Bile exploded from my mouth, hitting Johnno’s face. “Gross,” he recoiled in disgust. “Get a fucking move on, Mikey. I ain’t got all night.”
