by Coco Miller
"Don't pout, sweetheart," I snicker. "We can find you another name. Besides, I'm sure you can think of something better to do with those lips in my office," I tease her.
She smiles as her greedy eyes land on the zipper holding back my dick. She licks her glossy cotton candy-colored lips and moves closer to me. My feet swivel me around so she can get a better angle.
I can't believe I am carrying this on so far. I need to just boot her out of my office and stop wasting time. What the fucks wrong with me?
"Anything you want, Sir," she whispers, getting down on her knees.
I hook a finger under her chin, drawing her in a little closer as I whisper back, "Anything, hmm?"
She takes an unsteady breath. "Yes, Sir."
"Say that again."
"Yes, Sir."
I pause for a moment, looking at her face, then roam my eyes over her sexy as fuck cleavage.
"Wear this dress for me, did you?"
"Yes, Sir."
I caress my thumb across the swell of her tits, then down slowly across her nipple until she moans softly under my touch.
"You want me to fuck you so badly, don't you?"
"Y-Yes, Sir."
She is panting and I am about to fucking break my own rules for the sake of relieving my needful cock that can't stop throbbing as I touch and look at her. She is fucking low rent but still beautiful ... horrible makeup and all.
I need to fucking stop this.
Now.
"Then," I begin, moving my fingers back under her chin, "you should have come into my office with a bit more respect for me ... and maybe even yourself."
She gulps. "Sir?"
"Time to go now, Kandi. Get up."
She rises to her feet in a hurry, huffing and throwing a little tantrum the whole while.
"I can't believe you!" she exclaims.
"Believe it. Now get out." I am bored already with her and my whole game of teasing her. "I have another girl coming in right now. Sorry, but I don't think you're Bliss material."
"What the fuck?" she screams as she glances around the room, taking in my collection of Cuban cigar cases.
"Thank you for stopping by," I tell her, rising from my seat.
"This is bullshit," she spits, her hand flying for my face.
Shaking my head, I grab her wrist and hold it tightly. "I suggest you rethink what you're about to do. It won't end well. Now turn the fuck around and get the hell out of my office."
She jerks her wrist free and stomps toward the door, slamming it on her way out.
Chapter Three
VIKTOR
Shit, I didn't want to be here dealing with this. Unfortunately, I have no choice. Having someone dealing drugs in my territory means this needs to be handled directly by me. No one is going to slip by again.
Nicholai returns with a smile on his face. "I guess it didn't go well. Damn, I really wanted to play with those big tits."
"Too much trailer trash in her. She wasn't cut out."
"You're an asshole, Viktor," he says with a look of adoration.
"Yeah," I say, adjusting my silver tie. "Tell me something I don't already know."
I know I am the biggest fucking dick on the planet. Yet, people respect me anyway, and if they don't, I take care of it until they do.
"I have something that will make you feel better. The late one just showed up."
"Send her in," I tell him against my better judgment
Minutes later, a petite girl with a jean mini skirt and a black tube top walks in. Her skin is just as warm looking as the "Kandi" before her. Long honey-colored hair too. Not sure if it’s real or not, but it doesn’t matter, she’s definitely attractive. I rub my eyes and try to blink, to clear my fucking thoughts of lust.
Then I stupidly let my eyes linger on her curvy legs, thinking of the different positions I could get them in. Or, at least that's what I am thinking until I look at her face. Her scared, underage face with frightened whiskey-colored eyes. This girl isn't like Kandi. This needed to end immediately. I don’t hire kids.
"Get the fuck out," I tell her matter of factly.
What the hell is Nicholai thinking by letting a damn minor into my club?
"Wait," she trembles moving closer to me. "Please let me show you what I can do," she says, tears welling in her eyes. “I need the work.”
Before I can kick the kid out, my door flies open with a fury fueled woman and a flustered Nicholai following behind her.
Ah, fuck.
The doorknob smacks the wall and rebounds, almost knocking into the petite girl.
"Get away from my sister!" she roars.
Her slim finger points straight at me while her eyes skim over her sister to see just how much innocence she has shed before arriving to rescue her.
"Sorry, boss." Nicholai huffs, "She snuck around me and I couldn't catch her," he apologizes.
I glare at the woman who has barged into my office.
Fuck.
A mix of dark brown and honey-colored curls with skin just as warm and inviting, like a fucking dessert bar on legs. Honey, Caramel and chocolate. The hair is real, and so is the sexiness, and this one isn't frightened at all.
Goddamn.
I want a taste.
"Kennedy, what the hell are you doing here?" the kid, who I assume is the sister based on their similar features, asks.
"You don't get to ask questions," her sister shoots back. "I didn't drop out of college and work two jobs just so your stupid ass could become a stripper." She shoots me a look. "Definitely not for a man like him."
Her breath hitches just a bit when her attention lands on me. It isn't the first time a woman reacted like this to me. I am a sexy motherfucker, but this is the first time I have had a similar reaction.
Sure, lots of women give me hard-ons and make me want to bury myself balls deep into their wet pussies, but this is different.
She has the same large whiskey-colored eyes as her sister but hers are more pronounced because of the dark bags underneath them. Her hair is thrown haphazardly on her head. She is skin and bones and looks like she is about to pass out from exhaustion if it weren't for the anger pushing her. Having said all of that though...she is still fucking beautiful.
She needs to get away from me. Far away from me. I don't have time for distractions, and this chick and her sister are tons of distractions.
"Take your sister and get the hell out of my office," I tell her with a bored tone in my voice. If only my dick was actually this bored.
"We're going," Kennedy, the tiny terror, says.
"No, I'm interviewing for a position, Kennedy."
“The hell you are, Terrica," Kennedy says, trying to pull her sister out of my office as Nicholai and I watch quietly. I can't believe this shit is happening. I don't really do family drama. Yet it’s unfolding all right before my eyes.
"Yes, I want this job. You are going to kill yourself working so much. A person needs more than one to two hours of sleep a night. Without mom and dad, you are all I have. I can't lose you too."
The tears that have been threatening to fall since the younger girl walked into my office finally got their wish and fell freely down her heavily made-up face.
Ah, fuck. This circus in my office needs to be over, but I couldn't stop watching. It was like a bad reality TV show or a car accident. I couldn’t look away. Neither could Nicholai.
"Terrica, I'm fine." She pulls the young girl in and hugs her tightly. "I told you, I got this."
What the fuck is happening in my office? A therapy session?
"Let's get out of this man's office. I'm sure he doesn't want to listen to our family drama."
Kennedy turns her tired worn-out face toward me and winks. My cock immediately jumps against my zipper. Tired as shit, and she is still hot as fuck.
"It's not the worst that has been in here." I wink back and then a blush creeps across her cheeks.
Oh fuck. Innocence. It has been a long time since I've seen innocence. Mine had been
lost at the age of twelve, the first time I saw a man scream in pain before a bullet sliced his head open.
I want hers.
Without another word, she grabs her sister and pulls her out of my office.
"Should I send in the next one?" Nicholai asks. Oblivious to how I've just been shaken to the core by this woman.
"Why the hell would you send in a kid?" I ask, leaning over my desk, my anger ready to burst out.
"A kid?"
Idiot.
"Tupitsa (dumbass), that girl couldn't have been older than sixteen. Luckily I was ready to kick her ass out before her sister came storming in, but you let her in."
I think again about the gorgeous woman who swooped through here like a hurricane. The sister looked like she was dead on her feet. The sister that had my cock wanting to jump off my body so it could go live happily inside her.
"Shit, I didn't even notice," Nicholai says, rubbing his buzzed black hair.
"Tell the next one that she has the job and not to fuck it up," I tell him.
"Got it."
Before Nicholai closes my door, I stop him. My back teeth clench together before the words I would probably regret are forced out.
"Find out everything about her."
"About who?"
"The hurricane."
Chapter Four
VIKTOR
"This is where she lives? Of course. It fucking figures." I stare at the documents in front of me.
"What are you thinking?" Nicholai asks.
I seek his eyes for a moment and then return back to the documents at hand. Thing is, I don't want to tell him my thoughts, because I didn't even understand them.
All I know is, her innocence mixed with her determination sparked something in me. The business I deal in doesn't allow me to feel anything. Feelings are for pussies. The minute emotions come into play, you are dead. After a while, you forget what it feels like to be human. Like a constant flatline. I want a daily dose from her pure sweetness to get me high.
It is a high only she can offer.
After Kennedy, otherwise known as Kennedy Howard, and her sister Terrica left my office, I made it Nicholai's priority to find out everything he could. Three hours after she left, I had her life story in front of me, printed neatly in black and white. Kennedy is twenty-three. Two years ago she took full custody of her, then, fourteen-year-old sister, Terrica.
Fucking Nicholai had let in a sixteen-year-old in my office. Tupitsa. (Dumbass) I swear he's going to get the club shut down one day.
Their story is fucked up. Their parents had been killed by a drunk driver on New Year's Eve. So Kennedy had to drop out of her last semester of college and take on three jobs to help pay for the funeral expenses and care of her sister.
Anger surges through me as I scan over the woman's work schedule. Terrica hadn't been kidding when she said her sister had only been sleeping two hours a night.
"I'm going to her house." I push my chair back, rising to my feet.
"It's after midnight," Nicholai hedged. "Your big Russian ass is going to her neighborhood at this time of night? I think you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb.“
"I don't care." My sapphire-blue eyes grow darker as I stare him down.
"I'll bring the car around."
He leaves my office as I straighten my tie. Nicholai is smart enough to keep his mouth shut, even though I know his opinion of what I am about to do.
I have a plan.
Money talks and I have plenty of it. Two facts that Kennedy Howard is about to become acquainted with.
Chapter Five
KENNEDY
A stripper? I can't believe Terrica is stupid enough to think that stripping is the solution. I may not know exactly what the answer is, but one thing I do know is that dancing for slimeballs and money isn't it.
I wish I could tell her what the solution for us actually is because all I am setting an example for is work, work, and some more work. If I'm lucky, I might die before the doctor bills catch up, because working three (oh wait, it's only two now) jobs will be the death of me. How much more can I handle? Not much more.
After our parents died, I was overwhelmed with all the responsibilities it took to raise my sister and keep a roof over our heads. Our parents were relatively young and not huge planners, so there was no insurance money, no will, nothing.
Unfortunately, we weren't born into wealth, and when they died my reality quickly changed. College would have to be put on hold. Working full-time was the only solution. Unfortunately, I didn't have the credentials to secure a good-paying full-time gig in an office or somewhere like that, so I picked as many part-time jobs as I could. I never have a day off. I never am able to enjoy the 'simple' things in life. No, I am the rat in the rat race people talk about.
And with all the hours I work, I definitely could never find a man. Relationships are just not in the cards for me. I don't even try to look. Honestly, I am in debt up to my eyeballs, so I can't even think about a man. I like to look though.
The owner at the strip club, whew, he was so good-looking. That accent? Panty melting. But I already know that he isn't a good man so it kind of cancels all of that sexiness out. I mean what kind of man owns a strip club? What kind of man would allow an underage girl to work for him? A monster and a predator, that's who.
"Terrica, promise me you'll never do anything that stupid again."
We walk down the shabby hallway to our apartment. Depressing. The wallpaper is cracking and peeling, and in many places, it's torn off completely. The threadbare tan carpet under our feet appears as if it has been walked on for ages, and one of the overhead lights has burned out. Home sweet home.
Terrica looks over at me, regret filling her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just thought I could help."
"Help me by going to school and getting good grades," I say, placing the key into the rusty lock of our front door. "Help me by graduating."
"Okay." She nudges me. "But, did you get a look at the man who owns the club? Mr. Petrov? He was criminally hot." She waves her hand in front of her face as she smiles.
Shaking my head, I push the door open. "Criminally hot?"
I throw my keys on the entryway table as Terrica follows me inside our tiny apartment.
"Yeah, like he'd be arrested if anyone saw how hot he was."
"Um, that makes no sense."
"You got something against Russian guys?"
"I don't have time for any guy and neither do you. Go to bed."
I slide my purse from my shoulder as I step into the kitchen.
"I'm not tired. I'm going to watch TV, night." She kisses my cheek as she rushes back to her bedroom.
In our one-bedroom apartment, Terrica has the only room with a small TV.
I, on the other hand, have a bed in the corner of the living room with a shower curtain separating me from the couch.
Removing my heels and changing into my nightclothes, I sink into my small mattress and decide to get a few hours sleep before my shift at the gas station down the street.
As I snuggle under the blanket, my thoughts drift to the man I met face to face tonight. The criminally hot Viktor Petrov. Everyone knows who he is. It is no mystery who he is or the fact that he owns Club Bliss. Texas might be big but our town is relatively small.
Mr. Petrov's father was a criminal, so it's safe to assume that he is probably a criminal, too. I don't know much about the mob, but I do know that his father ran it. And I know to stay away from anyone associated with him. Especially the son.
He is gorgeous but scary. Pretty, but ugly. Oh, so good, but so so bad. His magnetic color-changing eyes never wavered from mine as he sat perched in his chair, yelling at us to leave. He intimidated me, to the point I wanted to run away and cry which, we pretty much did.
His muscles are huge. Bigger than most men in town. Although he had a suit on, I am totally aware of the tattoos covering every inch of his skin underneath it. Sure, I've read a few magazine articles on the guy. That'
s how I know. Never thought I'd meet him though.
But I did.
And, he is prettier in person.
I close my eyes, imagining his strong hands on my body. His beard tickling the inside of my thighs. My hand moves to the spot between my thighs, over my panties, wishing it was his strong hand instead. The way he stared at me plays through my mind over and over. It was hot. He was hot.
And his voice turned me on something fierce. That deep, gravely, Russian accent peppered with a Texas twang is something special.
I begin to rub my fingers over the panel of my soaked panties. This man could probably give me things I haven't had in years. It's been so long since I've felt a man touch me. Since I've had a man inside me.
I slip my panties to the side, letting my thin fingers enter me, making me wetter than I already am. I imagine Viktor's fingers inside me instead. I want this man to touch me. What is wrong with me? He was going to hire my little sister to dance for him. Isn't he the anti-Christ?
I try not to let my mind wander to how wrong this is. Instead, I focus on the way his lips curved when he first saw me. The way his eyes roamed over my entire body like he couldn't get his fill. He was attracted to me. Even looking my worst- he wanted me.
My fingers pick up speed, wanting more than anything to have these thoughts of Viktor to make me come. It was insane.
I moan into the room, trying my best to keep it down. I play with my clit, bucking my hips against my hand.
My mind drifts back to the exchange we shared tonight. The way he stared at me causes chills to race over my skin. It was hot.
I imagine Viktor's tongue inside me, bringing me closer and closer to an orgasm. I imagine him grabbing my ass in his large hands, his mouth devouring me, his cock getting harder by tasting me.
I want him to have it. To have me. I want him to take everything he wants in the dominant way I know he would. The release of control is one thing I wish for, but could never act on. How could I? Especially with him.
He isn't the type of man I should even be thinking about it. But here I am, thinking about having his mouth on me, his tongue deep inside me as far as it could go, making me see stars.
