by Lexie Ray
“Wait!” Liam shouted. He parked the car illegally and hopped out to the increased howls of the people behind him. I fought the urge to cover my face in embarrassment as he jogged over to me.
“I’m sorry for last night,” he said. “I really am.”
“You were fine last night,” I said. “Downright likeable. It was your attitude this morning that I didn’t like.”
Liam rubbed his face with his hand. I was happy to see that he’d at least hopped into a suit before leaving the house, though his face looked haggard with a hangover.
“You’re right,” he said. “It was rude. I have a very high profile to maintain and it wouldn’t fare well for my business if clients knew I was taking strippers home.”
The casual dismissal of my new profession stung. Lifting my head as far as it would go, I glared at him.
“You didn’t take a stripper home,” I said. “Collette Bell — Cocoa for short — took pity on your drunk ass and saw you safely home. That’s what you can tell your clients happened, if they care enough to ask.”
I turned to go, but he caught my hand again — much more gently than he had in his penthouse.
“I’m sorry, Miss Bell,” he said. “I don’t mean to hurt you. I’m under a lot of pressure personally and professionally, but that’s not an excuse to be rude to someone who was kind enough to make sure I got home okay last night. If you don’t hate me too much, would you do me the honor of going to dinner this evening?”
“So you can insult me some more?” I asked.
Liam sighed. “No. I want to show you how grateful I am. And sorry. Can I pick you up at six?”
Part of me wanted to be rid of him. But the other part already liked him despite everything he’d said this morning.
“Okay,” I said, against my better judgment.
Liam brought the hand he was holding to his lips and kissed it, their warmth searing my skin. “It’s a date, then,” he said, running back to his Porsche and taking off with a squeal of tires.
When I got up to the apartment, Casey was waiting for me, her arms crossed and a storm brewing on her brow.
“Why aren’t you at class?” I asked.
“They let us out early,” she said in the same singsong tone I was using. “Saw you from the window. Good night last night?”
I winced as her tone shifted to the accusatorial. “Nothing happened,” I said. “I just got him to his … um … penthouse and slept in a spare room.”
“Penthouse?” Casey’s eyes bugged out. “That’s all you had to say!”
She hi-fived me, and we laughed. “I’m sorry I didn’t show up at home last night,” I said. “He invited me to stay, and it was kind of late.”
“I was so worried about you,” she said. “I just figured you decided to sleep with him.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “Nothing like that. He was plastered.”
“Well, to avoid another sleepless night on my part, I got you a present,” Casey said, holding out a slim box.
I opened it and smiled. “A cell phone!” I exclaimed. “It’s my first one!”
Casey’s look of shock made me laugh. “Seriously?” she asked. “Well, it looks like it’s high time for you to get one. It’s prepaid. Buy minutes for it when you need them. No monthly bill.”
“Thank you,” I said, hugging her. “You’re a good friend.”
I powered up the phone and discovered I already had a message.
“This is Casey,” it read. “Enjoy the phone! Save my number.”
“Thank you — really,” I said again.
“So, I saw him kiss your hand,” she said. “Are you sure nothing romantic happened?”
“He’s taking me out to dinner to repay me for my kindness,” I said, trying not to make a big deal about it.
Casey’s squealing and clapping made me do the same.
“No, I think I like him,” I groaned. “The only problem is that he’s some big millionaire.”
“Problem?” Casey said, her face skeptical. “That’s a solution to most problems people usually have.”
“His name’s Liam Henry,” I said. “He owns a successful business. And I’m Cocoa, your friendly neighborhood stripper.”
“Hey, if he was embarrassed to be seen in public with you, he wouldn’t have invited you to dinner,” Casey said. “You should just enjoy yourself. Who knows what’ll happen?”
“Who knows?” I mused, smiling.
-----
Six o’clock had me sitting in the front seat of that gorgeous Porsche, wearing a simple black dress and heels and toting my new phone in a little wristlet Casey had loaned me.
“Any preferences on dinner?” Liam asked, after he’d opened the door for me and complimented me on the dress. “There’s this new place I got reservations for, but we can go wherever you want.”
“We can go there,” I said. “I’m not a picky eater.”
“I’ve heard it’s good,” he said.
That was all the warning he gave me before pulling up outside of Mash. A valet opened the door for me and helped me out as I stared at the long line of people waiting outside of the glittering restaurant.
“Isn’t this one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city?” I asked, trying to close my mouth.
Liam offered me his arm and I had no choice but to take it.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “But it did take me a couple of weeks to get the table.”
“Weeks?” I said. “I heard it takes months.”
“Maybe I greased some palms,” he said, grinning. “I can kind of afford it.”
We were seated immediately, before anyone waiting in the line.
“Can I suggest a wine for you?” Liam asked, looking over the menu.
I shook my head. “I don’t really drink,” I said.
He blinked a couple of times before shutting the menu. “Good for you. Neither will I.”
“It’s not a thing,” I protested. “You can enjoy your wine as long as you let me drive that divine Porsche of yours again.”
Liam laughed, ordering two waters. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Drives like a dream,” I said, my smile loopy just thinking about it. “I think that’s probably the best investment you’ve ever made.”
“You’re may be right,” Liam agreed.
The waiter came back with our waters and paused.
“You said you’re not a picky eater?” Liam asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
“That’s right.”
“Do you mind if I order for you?”
I grinned and shook my head. “Go right ahead,” I said. “I’m not sure what’s good here, anyway.”
“Everything,” the waiter put in, leaning forward.
“We’ll both have the stuffed lamb chops,” Liam said, handing the menu to the waiter.
“Right away, sir,” the man said before hurrying off.
“Ooh, I like lamb,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “I’m excited to try it stuffed.”
“I’ve heard very good things about it,” Liam said. He paused a moment before looking at me, propping his chin up on his fist. “Listen, thanks for coming out with me.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” I said. “You didn’t have to.”
“I did,” he said. “The things I said to you weren’t fair after everything you’d done for me.”
“It was nothing,” I said. “I got to take a drunk rich guy’s Porsche on a joyride across New York City. It was my pleasure.”
We both laughed.
“Can I tell you something?” Liam asked. “You have to promise not to be pissed off at me.”
“I can promise to try not to be pissed off at you,” I said, cocking my head at him. “What is it?”
“You’re really pretty,” he said, smiling. “Especially without all that makeup.”
I laughed and covered my face. “That was all very new to me,” I said, “but thank you. I try not to wear five pounds of makeup on a regular basis.”
> We chatted some more, the time passing quickly before the waiter came back with covered trays, revealing them with a flourish. My mouth watered at the succulent piece of meat before me, rosemary-encrusted and stuffed with minced fruit and other goodies. On the side was a mashed vegetable tailored for the main dish, which was the restaurant’s namesake.
“I think you made the right decision with this,” I said, taking up my knife and fork.
The first bite exploded with flavor, the meat having been roasted with the fruit inside. The lamb had been infused with the fragrant stuffing.
“So good,” Liam groaned. I blushed, unwillingly being transported to the night before, when I’d had him groaning for different reasons.
“Want to come back tomorrow night?” I joked, taking a sip of water.
“Only if you’re by my side,” he said, making me melt a little inside. Liam was a charmer.
“Just give me a time and place to be,” I teased. “I will so take you up on this.”
A few minutes passed in amicable silence, both of us noshing on our dinners.
“Do you think you’ll always be a stripper?” Liam asked with feigned casualness.
I stiffened, but he held his hands up. “I’m just asking,” he said. “From what I can remember, you’re pretty good at it.”
“It’s not a permanent thing,” I said. “Just until I find something else.”
“Well, what would you rather be doing?”
I thought for a minute. “Something with helping people,” I said. “My roommate’s going to school to be a nurse, but I get squeamish. Maybe something with kids. I’m not sure. I’m kind of getting back up on my feet.”
I didn’t want to talk about my past, but there it was: an opening for him to ask. If Liam was weird about me being a stripper, I could only imagine his reaction to the knowledge that I used to be a prostitute.
He seemed to sense my reluctance to talk about it and smiled. “Well, if you really wanted to help people as a career, I could use some help.”
“Ha ha,” I mugged. “I think I already helped you once.”
“No, I’m serious,” Liam said. “I could use a personal assistant. I’ve been vetting people because there’s some privacy issues involved, but you’ve already seen me at my absolute worst.”
I shook my head, not sure what I was hearing. “Are you offering me a job?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Why not?” he asked. “I feel like I can trust you. You tolerate my stupidities. And you say you want to help people.”
“I don’t want to strip for the rest of my life,” I said. “It was just a temporary fix for cash.”
“You wouldn’t have to worry about cash,” he said. “You can even stay in my spare bedroom. In fact, I’d prefer that. It’d be rent free, of course, because you’d never be off duty.”
Stay in that gorgeous penthouse free of rent? Get a job that didn’t involve selling my body?
“I’ll sign my contract now,” I said, grinning.
Liam laughed and lifted his water glass. “To Miss Collette Bell, my new personal assistant and roommate.”
“Please, just Cocoa,” I said, clinking my glass with his. “Nobody calls me Collette.”
“Cocoa it is,” Liam said. “Now, how about some dessert to celebrate?”
We shared tiramisu before leaving the restaurant for the night.
“Do you mind if we stop by my place?” he said. “I just wanted to show you some of the things you’ll be doing. We don’t have to if you think it’s too late.”
“No, it’s fine,” I said, feeling full and happy. “I’ll just text Casey and let her know not to expect me before she goes to work.”
“Oh,” Liam said. “Do you need to go to work, too?”
“Not anymore,” I said, smiling.
I whipped out my little phone and shot off a quick message to Casey. “Going to Liam’s and don’t want you to worry,” it said.
The response lit up my phone. “Sex on the first date? Naughty girl!”
I had to smother my smile. “Not what you think — it’s a business proposal.”
“Better not be a business proposal about that body,” Casey typed back.
I shook my head and put my phone away.
We arrived in no time, the traffic light. The doorman smiled as he recognized me from last night, giving me a discreet thumbs up. I tried to shake my head at him, but stopped when Liam turned to look at me.
“Your penthouse is beautiful, by the way,” I said when we reached it. The city was sparkling as it had been the night before. I could get used to a view like this.
“Thanks,” Liam said, vanishing down the hallway.
He returned with a sheaf of papers held together by a binder clip.
“Giving me work already?” I joked, pretending to be worried by the fat stack.
“It’s the nondisclosure agreement,” he said, flipping the pages, “along with my typical schedules, what duties you can expect, everything.”
“Wow, so this is it,” I said, taking the packet and weighing it in my hands. “My ticket out of being a stripper.” I was happy to be past the point where I had to feel sensitive about my temporary line of work.
“I can go over it with you, if you want,” Liam said, leaning closer to flip to different pages. He was talking to me, telling me about the job I had said I was going to do, but I couldn’t help smelling the cloying fragrance of his cologne, thrilling at his closeness, and jumping at the way his fingers brushed against mine as we both held the packet.
I couldn’t stop myself. I tipped my head up and kissed his jaw. Liam stopped talking.
“I’m sorry!” I cried. “I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me — you smell really good, and I’m excited, and I had a great time tonight. Please don’t be mad.”
“This isn’t behavior befitting of a personal assistant,” Liam said, taking the sheaf of papers from my hand and letting them drop to the floor.
I thought I had screwed up until he tangled his hands in my hair and kissed me. My eyes fluttered shut as our tongues clashed. I could still taste the tiramisu in his mouth.
Liam broke the kiss, panting. “I’ve wanted to do that since I followed you across town this morning,” he said.
“That wouldn’t be behavior befitting Mr. Millionaire, not in the light of day,” I said, parroting his words.
He grabbed my ass, and I leapt up, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“It was this ass that did it,” he growled, fondling it roughly. “Watching it sway all the way to your apartment.
“I did that on purpose,” I said, smiling against his mouth before kissing him again.
I didn’t realize we had moved to the bedroom until he deposited me on the bed with a bounce.
“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire.
I hadn’t thought I’d ever want sex as badly as I wanted it at that moment. It was something of a relief to know that working at Mama’s nightclub hadn’t ruined me for life. I had worried about it several times.
Nodding, I spread my legs for him, knowing what it looked like for my dress to ride up to my waist, for a tiny triangle of fabric to separate him from what he wanted.
“I want you now,” I said, my heart beating hard. “Right now.”
All he could manage to do was unzip his pants and push my underwear aside before plunging in. I was so wet. I arched my back and cried out, throwing my arms around his neck as his prodigious cock stretched me to my limits.
“You’re so big,” I whimpered.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, stilling. “I never want to hurt you.”
“You’re not hurting,” I said, smiling and stroking his hair. “I want this. Fuck me, Mr. Millionaire. Give it to me.”
He started thrusting again, my body already adapted to his girth. So many of the men at Mama’s nightclub who paid for the privilege of my body weren’t hung worth a damn. Liam was a welcome, incredible change. He stretched me, ch
allenged me, and gave me unimaginable pleasure. Each of his thrusts struck a chord deep inside my body, finding my elusive G-spot with no effort whatsoever.
We panted together, two bodies desperate for pleasure, and thrilling at finding it again.
He grabbed me, holding me close, his thrusts even more frenzied. It was a sensory overload to feel so protected and so pleasured at the same time. I couldn’t hang on a second longer, shrieking as I climaxed. Liam smothered his own moans in the crook of my neck, both of us riding out our releases together. It was so strange — I felt vulnerable, scared, excited, and much more. Emotions wheeled through my mind, and I couldn’t settle on just one.
