by Olivia Grace
“Let me go get you a towel,” he said as he slid out of me.
Then he hopped up. As he skipped out of the room, I longingly watched his curvaceous ass it disappeared around the corner.
After hearing the bathroom door close, I reached towards the coffee table for my cell phone. I unlocked the screen and opened the Facebook messenger app. I scrolled down to my conversation with Justin. Holding my finger on the tab, the menu popped up. I chose “delete” and watched as the entire conversation disappeared. I then opened the Facebook app, navigated to his page, deleted him as a friend, and blocked him. I did the same to his contact in my phone.
Tyler startled me as his smiling face appeared around the corner. “Breakfast, Karrie Stahl?”
Bashfully, I smiled. “Yea. Sure. Let’s eat.”
Thirteen
A month and a half later, on a cool Saturday night in November, I was standing at the bar in Pink Rhino smiling at Sabrina and her new nose.
“It looks great,” I told her as I sipped my Sprite spiked with vodka.
Club rules were that I was old enough to dance but not old enough to drink. But the bartender had grown to like me, so she spiked my refreshers with a shot or two throughout the night.
“Thanks.” Sabrina’s smile was wide and assuring. She knew she looked great.
“How long have you been here?”
“Just an hour.” Then she bit her lips shamefully. “I stole mom’s car. She’s gonna kill me.”
I giggled. “That’s an understatement.”
“I had to come see about my bestie. I see you less and less, especially since you got that new car.”
With earnings from the club, not only had I been able to save my education but I also was able to finance a Buick Enclave. It was no Benz. But the payments were affordable, it was safe, and my dad insisted that I get it when he took me car shopping two weeks prior.
I smiled at the thought of finally being able to afford a car as I rubbed my fingers through my hair. That night my red locs were bone straight to go along with the black latex and lace body suit that I was wearing. I didn’t want to be the girl next door that night. I thought the dominatrix look was different and more alluring. Yet, Rosie hated it. She spat Italian at me that I knew weren’t endearing words as soon as she saw me.
“Che cosa l'inferno?!Prendere quella merda! Questo non è il tuo look!”
Yet, she got over it when I got the right reaction from the crowd my first go round on the main stage.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” I told Sabrina. “But I have to work the floor before Ralph sees me…or Midnight.”
We both giggled.
“I’ll be back,” I promised as I returned my drink to the bar and disappeared into the crowd.
The crowd was heavy that night. After two months, I’d acquired my own clientele that were for sure money makers. I knew what they liked and didn’t like, and vice versa. No longer was I creeped out by strangers who were too touchy feely with odd requests.
“New Pussy…”
My eyes rolled in the back of my head as I heard Midnight’s voice behind me.
I shot around to face her. “My name is Kar…My name is Ginger.”
She waved her hand dismissively. I hated when she had these bipolar moments, not knowing whether she wanted to like or dislike me, respect or disrespect me.
“The guy at table twenty is asking for you,” she spat as she strutted by.
Everything in me wanted to trip her, but I knew that she would beat my ass before I could lay a hand on her.
Curiously, I made my way towards table twenty, which was on the second level in a dark corner of VIP. Iggy Azalea serenaded me as I fought my way through the private section that was packed to the hilt with a rowdy bachelor’s party. Yet, in the dark corner at table twenty was a dark figure, clutching a glass filled with a dark whiskey and ice. The brim of his trucker’s cap hid his face as he stared down onto the first level.
I was sure that he wouldn’t be able to hear me over the music, so I touched his shoulder and bent down to purr rehearsed lines into his ear that would ensure hefty tips.
However, every rehearsed word that I had recited for weeks was now unbeknownst to me as our eyes met.
I gasped, seemingly loud enough to catch everyone’s attention, but no one around me heard or noticed my sheer fright.
Instantly, I turned to walk away but, without standing from his seat, he was able to grip firmly onto my elbow and bring me closer to him.
He stood and used his overbearing presence to force me into a corner.
He hovered over me as shame ran through me.
“Please don’t tell my dad, Brad. I just...I needed.” My words were replaced with embarrassed whimpers.
I was caught off guard when he said nothing and just intensively stared down on me. His finger to my lips quieted my rambling and my feelings changed from embarrassment to arousal.
“I need this,” left his lips in a tone that I could not gather. I figured that after weeks of mourning, he’d traveled to the city and stumbled upon me in a latex get up. Yet, scrutinizing and judgment was nowhere in his expression. I dared not believe it, but I thought I saw lust. “I need you,” could be heard coming from his lips in an almost demanding tenor. “Dance for me.”
I could smell the whiskey, so I assumed he was drunk. He didn’t wait for an answer. Again, he grabbed me by the elbow and guided me to table twenty. He sat down and brought me down on his lap with him. Embarrassment was no more. Though confusion lingered, I was enslaved by his caress of my hair as I sat paralyzed on his burly lap. The only movement was in my channel that began to treacherously flow like the Mississippi River.
He smiled admiringly at me. “So beautiful.”
His hands found the back of my neck. His fingers were lost amongst my locs. The feeling of his grip against my scalp was alarming. Words of wonder and confusion lodged in my tight throat.
He brought my face close to his.
His smell choked me as his lips met my ear. “I can’t share you.”
To be continued…
Get ready to see how the affair unfolds.
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