RayAnne slipped off her shoes and took a seat at the dressing table. “How much?”
Kyra sat at the other table, counting the cash she’d pulled off the stage. “Three hundred, twenty-two.”
“That’s it?” RayAnne pulled off one set of false eyelashes, and then the other and blinked, clearing her vision. “Count it again.”
“Ooohkay. But I think I got it right the first time.” Kyra rolled her eyes and began counting the money again.
RayAnne figured they’d brought in at least four, maybe even four-fifty. Three wasn’t satisfactory in her book. She pulled a wipe out of the plastic dispenser and swiped down her chest.
“Three hundred, twenty-two.” Kyra smiled. “Just like I said the first time.”
RayAnne sighed. “We need to work out a new routine this week.” Apparently the current one wasn’t working as well as many of the others.
“Okay. What theme this time?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll have to give it some thought.” RayAnne finished the blood cleanup, and then stripped off her G-string. Donning a new outfit, she turned to Kyra. “We need to work the floor tonight. You coming?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged, inspecting her nails. “I guess.”
“Well, paste on that pretty smile of yours and go charm your favorite businessman.” RayAnne pulled a brush through her dark hair.
Kyra gasped. “He’s so not my favorite businessman. He could be, if you let me bring him home for playtime, but you won’t.”
“Why? So you can hear him say, ‘you’re welcome,’ after you fuck him?” RayAnne snorted a laugh.
“Ugh, I know, right?” She tugged on a new G-string, silver with pink stars. “There’s just something about how he looks at us. Like he’s got some sort of secret, and he’s only going to tell us if we ask in just the right way.” Kyra giggled. “Bet he’s a freak.”
“Bet he takes it up the ass.” RayAnne applied a new coat of lip gloss.
Kyra burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh my word, do you think? All buttoned up, suit and tie. And the cowboy boots. Let’s not forget the boots.”
“Especially because of the boots.”
Kyra’s face lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July, and she clapped her hands. “Can we? Oh my goodness, can we take him home tonight? I’ve been a really good girl since the last time. Please? And it’s been forever. Pleaaaase, RayAnne?”
RayAnne glanced at her lover; the excitement palpitated off of her in waves she could practically see. She supposed Kyra was right, she had been behaving. Last time they took a customer home, Kyra had gotten a little carried away and almost broke him. Literally. Since that night, RayAnne had to impose a rule: no more customers. At least not for a while. It’d been months though, and although the silver-haired executive didn’t particularly appeal to her, he turned Kyra’s knobs. And RayAnne was horny; so fuck it. Why not?
She smiled. “If he asks again tonight, then, okay. But, no propositioning him. Got me?”
“Yes!” Kyra bounced, her large breasts bouncing with her.
“All right, let’s get out there and make up what we didn’t earn during our act. Fucking cheap bastards. I hate doing lap dances. If I must do them, I’m going to make them worth my while. They’ll pay in dollars, or I’ll sneak a few sips of blood. Either way works for me.”
Kyra was still smiling from ear to ear when they made their way out to the main floor. She made a beeline for the businessman, as RayAnne figured she might. God help that child, she was a glutton. Kyra knew the guy was the definition of arrogant, and it rather made her loathe being around him. Mortals were such…dicks at times.
Provided he asked, she looked forward to taking him down a peg or ten.
* * * *
Kyra approached her target in hopes he’d proposition her just one more time. They didn’t usually work the floor after their performances, so she was happy to see he was still seated in his usual spot. He was good for at least a few more private dances from her tonight. At least she could grind all over his cock through his thin dress pants and get him nice and hard, and then draw an orgasm out of him he’d never forget.
Puscifer’s, Rev 22:20 came on, and Kyra scanned the crowd for RayAnne. The DJ knew she was partial to this band and was most likely trying to make her night a little better. Kyra spotted her—perched on a customer’s thighs, her G-string covered pussy right in his face, RayAnne undulated her body in time with the beat of the song. Hot. Very hot.
Turning her attention back to the businessman, Kyra caught his gaze, adjusted her bra top, and smoothed her palms over her breasts.
He quirked an eyebrow, took a sip of his drink, and then nodded for her to come over.
“Glad to see you still here. Would you like another dance?” She bent forward, resting her hands on his thighs.
He tilted his head to the side and glanced down at her cleavage. “Why are you still here?”
Okay, maybe he wanted to talk instead. “We decided to stay a little late tonight.”
“Have a seat, “ he motioned to the empty chair next to his. “Not enough money on the set tonight?”
Kyra frowned, but took the seat next to him. “That’s kinda a rude question, isn’t it?”
“See it how you wish. Rude or not, it’s an accurate question.”
“I guess.” She looked around, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but near him now. She didn’t mind direct people, but rude was a totally different story.
“Let me get you a drink.” He waved the waitress over. “What would you like?”
“I’ll have a glass of champagne. The Dom Rose, please?” She smiled at the waitress. May as well order the top shelf stuff and ensure the waitress got a big tip as a result.
“Expensive taste.” He sipped his drink.
“Not something you expected from a stripper?”
“You don’t seem like the champagne type.”
“Oh, I’m all champagne and bubbles.” She crossed her legs. “It’s RayAnne who prefers things a bit more serious.”
“I see. Are those your real names?”
“Yes, actually they are.” Her drink arrived, and she smiled at him, raising her glass in toast. “What’s your name?”
“Dana Richards. What are we drinking to?”
“Nice to meet you, Dana Richards. We’re drinking to your next proposition, of course.” She winked and sipped from the glass. He looked a bit confused before he raised his drink to his lips and took a sip. For whatever reason, the idea she’d stumped him made her all giddy inside. More than usual.
“What is it you believe I’ll be proposing?”
“You seem like a very smart man. An executive right? An important one?” She let her eyes widen, exaggerating her interest in him. “I’ve seen several articles in the paper about you.”
He chuckled. “Yes, Kyra. I’m an executive, and I guess you could say an important one. Why do you ask?”
“Honestly, I think it’s fascinating. I don’t think I could do it personally though. You know, work a day job. In an office somewhere. Seems like a lot of rules to follow.” She scrunched up her nose.
“It is a lot of responsibility, yes. I imagine you don’t like rules.”
“Not particularly.”
“I’m curious. What happens when there are rules imposed on you?” He smoothed his hand down the back of his salt-and-pepper hair. More salt than pepper.
“I break them of course.” She smiled and then took a sip of her champagne.
“I bet you do.” He pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side. “What if you get to make the rules?”
“I don’t.” She shrugged. “RayAnne makes the rules.”
“I see. And you break them.” He sipped his drink.
“Exactly.” She nodded with a grin.
“Is that what you’re doing now, breaking rules?”
“How do you mean?” Where was he going with this?
“By sitting here, talking to me. Shouldn’t you be attend
ing to the other customers?”
“Am I not attending to you?”
“Just checking.”
She giggled. “But you haven’t asked me for a dance yet.”
“What happens if I don’t ask you for a dance? Will you be breaking rules then?”
“Yes… but…”
“You’re welcome.”
Ugh, he was so strange. She frowned and narrowed her eyes. And maybe a little twisted. RayAnne was probably right; he probably did take it up the ass. “You always say that. Why?”
“It’s polite.” He grinned.
“But I didn’t thank you for anything.”
“Sure you did.”
“Oookay. If you say so.”
“A lot of people thank me for many things and don’t know it. Drink your champagne, then you can dance for me.”
“Are you going to tell me ‘you’re welcome’ if I do?”
“If you earn it.”
She shook her head and took a long swallow of her drink. Scanning the crowd, she spotted RayAnne talking to one of the bouncers. She caught Kyra’s eyes and nodded. A small smile curved Kyra’s lips at RayAnne’s way of checking on her to be sure she was okay. Kyra returned the nod, and then gazed back at Dana.
Strange name for a strange man, but she supposed it fit. She took in his profile while he watched one of the dancers up on stage. He wasn’t a very big man, as far as bulk and height. But he always wore his suits quite well. And Kyra liked that about him.
“Would you like a private one this time?”
He looked at her. “Depends. What do I get for a private one, this time?”
Kyra stood and then straddled his hips. She smoothed her fingertips down his burgundy print tie. “What would you like?”
He let out a soft breath, his eyes going heavy behind his glasses. “You know what I want.”
She leaned forward, brushing the tip of her nose over his ear. “Ask again.” She kept her words to a whisper, letting her breath feather over his skin. “Ask again, and this time I’ll say yes.” He shuddered and a bolt of satisfaction shot through her. She was getting to him with almost no effort. Points for her.
“I’d prefer a private dance, but only if its outside of the club.”
She pulled away and gazed at him. “Done. One thing though—a thousand for the night.”
His eyes went wide. “Do I look like a man who would pay for such a thing?”
“Not at all.” She rolled her hips, and he sucked in a breath. “Do I look like a woman who takes her customer home and fucks him until he doesn’t know his own name?”
“Jesus Christ. You do.” He tilted his head to the side. “The thought of what you can do with that body and mouth of yours is damn near enough to make me pay to find out.”
“We’re worth it.” She licked her lips.
“We’re?”
“Yep, me and RayAnne. You get two for the price of one.”
“Fuck me.” He scrubbed his hand over his mouth.
“Oh, I intend to do just that. Meet us out back in the alley in thirty minutes.”
“Done.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Where is he?” RayAnne stubbed out her cigarette.
“He’ll be here.” Kyra picked at her nail polish. “Ugh, I need to redo these.”
“He better be. We’re losing money right now.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Yeah, but if he shows, think how much we’ll be making.” Kyra smiled. Her full lips practically begged to be kissed.
RayAnne couldn’t stand it anymore. She’d gotten so amped up during their routine, she needed to take the edge off. She pulled Kyra close and cupped one of her full breasts in her palm. “You were such a fucking tease tonight on that stage.”
Kyra moaned. “Yeah? I scented your arousal while I was grinding against you.”
“I’m so fucking you good and hard tonight.” RayAnne pulled her down for a hard kiss; her fangs grazed Kyra’s bottom lip, earning her a small taste of the tangy sweet blood she brought forth. “So fucking sweet. Just as sweet as your pussy tastes.”
Kyra rubbed against her, whimpering like a little kitten, as a set of headlights illuminated the back alleyway.
“He showed!” Kyra let out a squeal, pulled away from RayAnne and moved toward his black BMW.
He rolled the window down and peered out at them. “You ladies need a ride?”
“Absofuckinglutely!” Kyra opened the passenger door.
RayAnne slid into the back. When they were all closed inside the car, she stuck her palm out between the two front seats. “Money.”
“I don’t pay for a service until I’ve received said service.”
Kyra pouted. “But—”
“I’ll give you half now, and half when we’re done and, as you promised,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “I no longer remember my name.”
RayAnne gritted her teeth, and then forced a smile. “Deal.” She sat back. “Kyra, give him our address so he can add it to the fancy GPS he’s got in the dash.”
“Wouldn’t a hotel be preferable?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.
“I prefer to have my things.”
He held RayAnne’s eyes for what felt like forever before he looked away and entered the address Kyra dictated to him. “All right. Your place it is.”
RayAnne focused on the passing buildings and then the lights of the city in the distance as they made their way into the hills of Glendale.
“Nice neighborhood. I’m impressed.” He turned onto their street.
“Not what you expected?”
“I have to admit, no.” He glanced at her in the mirror and then pulled into their driveway.
“I’ll get the garage.” Kyra hopped out.
“Pull in the garage, please.” RayAnne grabbed her bag.
“Why?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.
“Are you going to be this combative all night?” She leaned forward.
“Are you going to be this pushy?”
RayAnne tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips. “Yes.” He was better off learning the rules now.
“A woman who likes to be in charge. Not the first time I’ve come across that, won’t be the last.” He pulled the car forward into their garage. “And certainly nothing I can’t handle.”
“Then I guess you’ll be just fine. Kyra will walk you inside and get you a drink. I’ll get my things prepared.” RayAnne opened the door and stepped out.
“As you wish.” He got out of the car and shut the door.
“Follow me, Dana. I know the way to heaven.” Kyra grinned and linked her arm in his.
RayAnne made her way up to her bedroom and tossed her baseball cap on the bed, stripped off her jeans and t-shirt. Annoyance ricocheted through her. She didn’t much like his arrogant attitude and definitely looked forward to teaching him a few lessons tonight. After washing her hands, she ran her fingers through her hair, and then pulled on a low cut, slip dress. She moved to the large chest at the foot of her bed. Lifting the lid, she sorted through the various items stored in there.
“Let’s see…” RayAnne grabbed the blindfold, flogger, the wrist and ankle cuffs, two vibrators and the strap-on—oh, yes, if Mr. Dana Richards didn’t already take it in the ass, he was going to tonight. At the last second, she grabbed the lube. She wasn’t that much of a sadist. She loaded up a bag with the toys and wandered downstairs to the private library—AKA the playroom.
After setting up the items on the sideboard against the wall, she lit the many candles scattered throughout the room, and then went in search of Kyra and their plaything for the night. She discovered them in the formal living room.
“Kyra would you like to go change?”
Kyra stood. “I would.” She smiled and shifted her hips from side to side. Kyra’s excitement boiled over into the room and pleasure replaced RayAnne’s annoyance. RayAnne looked forward to expelling a good portion of that energy for Kyra througho
ut the night.
RayAnne watched Kyra walk by, and then turned her focus back on him. “Are you enjoying your drink?”
“Yes, thank you.” He crossed his leg over his knee. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you. I’m quite partial to it.”
“Have you lived here long?”
“A few years.” She moved to the wet bar and fixed herself a whiskey. They’d lived in this house for almost fifteen years, but there was no reason for him to know that. Especially because she still looked twenty-five. She walked toward him and took a seat across from him.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?”
“I don’t have to like you to fuck you.”
“I thought it might be nice if we were friends.” He sipped his drink.
She sighed. “Mr. Richards—”
“Please, call me Dana.” He adjusted his tie.
“Fine. Dana, this is a business deal. Considering your high profile position, I’m certain you’re accustomed to handling business without being friends with your customers.”
“Apples and oranges. I don’t fuck my customers.”
“Neither do I.” RayAnne sipped her whiskey.
He frowned and leaned forward. “Then why am I here?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Kyra likes you. And I like to make her happy.”
“So basically, what you’re telling me is, you’ll tolerate me because Kyra likes me?”
“Yes.” She swallowed the last of her drink.
“Why would you do that?”
“That’s,” she set her glass down, “none of your business.”
“Look, I’m not interested in people doing things they don’t want to do.” He stood.
“Oh, please.” She crossed one leg over the other, exposing a generous amount of thigh. “I know exactly how cutthroat you are. Dana Richards, the famous executive, would sell his own kin if it’d make him another hundred K. So why should it matter if I like you?”
His nostrils flared and he frowned.
RayAnne tilted her head to the side. Mr. Arrogant just let his sensitive side slip out. How interesting.
He let out a sigh and sat back down. “I know what the papers say. Doesn’t mean they’re right. I might play hardball where business is concerned, but I’m not a prick.”
Three Times Lucky: Five Sizzling Tales of Three-Way Love Page 18
