by L. L. Ash
One trip. I could handle one trip.
I inhaled a big breath and looked at my phone again, a seed of an idea planting in my brain.
Maybe, just maybe, I could call in a favor, too…
For The Money
L L. Ash
Chapter 1
Goddamn that movie.
Mike and his XXL magic.
We have new guys showing up every few days thinking they have what it takes to do what I do. They think they can shake their tight little asses, gyrate their cocks and ladies will just fall all over them, flinging money into their G-strings.
Got news for you, buddy. Nobody really does this for the money.
Ego? Sure.
Women? Hell yes.
Money? Job security?
HA!
No.
Why do I do this, you ask?
I do it for the money.
Now, now, before you start judging me and all that shit, I’ve been doing this for years. I actually do make decent money now. When I started it was all about the ego and women and adoration that was heaped on me.
And the sex. Don’t forget about the sex.
Now though? I do it because it’s easy for me, and it fits my schedule perfectly. I work a few nights a week and am able to pay rent, feed myself, and keep my car fueled up.
Speaking of… It was time.
We’d already done our opening group routine, and then the lame-ass new guy just shook his naked ass on stage for a handful of ones.
Learn from the master, noob.
Ginny was on stage, psyching the ladies up for my dance, and I hoped they still had some bills tucked away in their bras after the first couple guys that had gone before me.
Walking through the narrow hallway backstage, I passed the baby oil lined up near the door and head through, the bright lights swirling around the room, temporarily blinding me as I stepped on stage to booming house music and screaming women.
Ok, I lied.
I still do it because of my ego.
Just a little bit.
C’mon, wouldn’t you love to have a hundred women (or men) screaming for you? Wanting to see you body, begging for even a tiny morsel of you?
Unless you’re crazy or an incredibly shy introvert, the answer is a resounding yes. I am neither of those things, so of course my belly quivered in excitement and a grin spread across my face as I made eye contact with as many women as I could, getting into my starting pose.
The music blared to life, ‘Shape Of You’ started pouring through the speakers and little pops in the beginning cued my quick gyrations, hips flicking back and forth, my tear-away slacks brushing against my thighs, suit lapels grasped, one in each hand, my fedora perched precariously on top of my head, hiding my thick black hair.
The verse started and I turned, beginning a few slow rolls down my chest and abs, thrusting my hips with every punctuated line.
The ladies started screaming.
I flicked the front brim of my hat, flipping it off my head in a move I’d practiced for hours at home before trying it in this routine.
The hat flew into my hand, my fingers barely catching it as it went, but I managed. I always did.
I suddenly flew down the stage on my knees, dropping the hat onto a woman’s head as I went. I tore the lapels back and shrugged my shoulders out of it to the beat.
The women clapped and cheered louder, their arms outstretched towards me onstage, trying to get that tiny morsel of me to take home with them. I touched a few hands as I shed the jacket, getting back to my feet in a smooth motion as I loosened my tie a little. My fingers trailed down the buttons of my white shirt quickly, revealing a shallow strip of my recently waxed chest and abs.
Once the last button was released, I flicked the shirt open, hands grasping the ends like I was flashing the girls.
They screamed and ‘Ooo’ed and ‘aww’ed as I stripped that down my shoulders too, the tie still hanging around my neck, swinging with my gyrating movements.
I took another minute to dance like this, dropping back to the floor, chest up and hands on the stage floor as I thrust my hips up.
I managed to do a half roll, half backflip out of the position, then crawled like a predator along the side of the stage, taking a moment to roll my hips, grinding into the stage in front of a couple groups of women. They reached out and touched me, some grabbing my hips, thighs, ass, and some grabbing my junk. Tender little squeezes never bothered me much. It was the aggressive, squeezing-a-lemon grasps that hurt and I tried to avoid them.
The bridge was coming up and I looked into the crowd. Any decently pretty girl would do.
I reached my hand forward to a bright blond, her makeup perfect, if not a bit thick, and her pouty lips turned into a grin as she swayed her hips back and forth to the beat.
Perfect.
She looked up at me, into my eyes and I winked at her. She smiled wider and took my hand.
Boosting her onto the stage with me, I turned her back to me and basically dry humped her from behind, pressing a palm against her belly as she blushed to death.
Her friends were cheering her on from the side of the stage and the woman quickly got into what was happening to her. She ground her hips back against mine, picking up her curls with her hands she raised them up, exposing her neck.
Adventurous? Maybe I’d see what she could handle.
In an instant I pulled her shoulders back and bent at the knees, dropping her upper back gently against my thigh as my arms slipped around her waist. I flipped her upside down, holding her body against mine tight, praying to God she wouldn't flail so I wouldn’t drop her. Her feet went into the air and I heard her giggling instantly as she got a good facefull of my junk down there. Being the gentleman I was, I refrained from looking down that little skirt she wore. It didn’t, however, keep me from enjoying the smell of her.
She actually smelled really nice. Like fresh laundry and arousal.
Jostling her a couple times in our sixty-nine position, her still upside down in my arms, which probably looking a little more like I was trying to steal her lunch money, I threw her legs over my shoulder and settled her weight there. Twisting my hold around her waist and dropping her down, softly and slowly, laying her out on the floor.
She looked up at me with a sparkle in her eyes, her big blond curls spread out on the floor like a halo.
She really was beautiful.
But I didn’t have time for that.
The song was ending and my cue was coming up.
I tore the loosened tie up over my head, flinging it behind me before turning my back to the crowd and flinging my pants off, showing off my tight, black G-string-clad ass.
On the last few seconds of the song, I dropped down into a push-up and immediately started dry humping the girl on the floor until the song ended, then I dropped my head into her neck, as if we’d just finished a hot, exhausting round of fucking.
Me and the girl were both heaving for breath and the audience was soaking it up. They cheered and flung a few bills onto the stage, but I knew the trick. I had to get into the crowd pronto for the best tips.
“Thanks,” I told the girl beneath me and smiled as I got back on my knees, quickly getting onto my feet to help her up.
“I think I should be thanking you,” she winked at me and I held her hand until she got down off the stage.
Stooping to pick up a few bills, I gave the ladies a grand view of my ass and they started waving green in their greedy little fists.
Now, to sell lap dances and see what kinds of tips I could make before the last group dance.
I hopped down off the stage just as Ginny got up to announce the next dancer.
Rex.
Damn, my work would be cut out for me getting my tips before he stole their attention completely.
Before my feet even hit the ground, fingers were inside the straps of my G-string. Bills crinkled against my skin and I ground backwards into whatever ladies I could manage. That a
lways made them a little more generous.
I even saw a bill with a two on it. Woot! A twenty was always nice. Must be a chick with an old, rich husband.
My imagination always created stories for these women, especially the married ones. Why would they come here if they were happily married? If their husbands gave them what they needed, they wouldn’t need me. But here I was, women’s fingers grabbing me everywhere as I slipped through the crowd, giving a little hump here and there.
“I want a dance!” a girl shouted at me.
I grinned.
“Twenty-five bucks for a song.”
She nodded and held up the cash.
“Go talk to the bartender. He’ll get you a token, gorgeous.”
The girl was obviously a noob. She ran off to talk to the bartender and waved around the cash until she had his attention. He looked up at me with a smirk and a wink and took the cash, exchanging it for her change and a little red token.
The little red token meant grocery money. That meant I could eat. I needed at least five or six of them tonight, and I’d work my ass off until I had it.
I quickly made another round, trying to gather tips until the girl came back, then I took her hand and led her back to a private room. I sat her back in the big chair and spread her legs slowly, looking into her eyes.
Eye contact, fellas. Most forgot about it completely, but it’s the direct attention that gets a woman wetter faster. I stared at her like we were lovers, like I needed her...now.
I planted my hands on the arms of the chair and gyrated my body, rolling my hips into her for a moment to get her fired up.
Her eyes instantly widened as they dropped from mine to the movement happening at my hips, growing wider at the fat package that was inches from her crotch, grinding it gently.
When she was breathing hard, I switched tactics and pulled her hair back violently, but without hurting her, and stood. One leg scooted to the outside of the chair while the other propped onto the opposite arm of the chair. I moved my hips almost directly in her face and she let out a surprised yelp as my junk waved back and forth.
She looked slightly panicked as her cheeks began to flame, so I dropped my foot, let my hand untangle from her light brown hair and took her hand, standing her up.
“Is my time u----” she started to speak but I crouched to grab her around the thighs instead of answering.
Maybe this girl was too young and new for my usual tricks.
I pressed her back into the wall and dry humped her until the song was up.
She was flustered and hot in the face when I dropped her onto her feet.
“Can I get another one?” she asked breathlessly.
“You can get as many as you want, beautiful. I’m more than happy to oblige.” I winked at her and led the way out of the room, holding onto her hand until we reached the bar. I hoped she did get another token. She was easy money.
At the bar the bartender, Yuke, slid a shot down to me. I flicked it up, draining the contents down my throat in one fluid movement.
“Am I too late to buy you a drink?” came a sultry, feminine voice.
Its sheer bedroom quality had me turning to see who it belonged to.
Surprisingly, it was the blond from onstage.
“I’ll have three and I’m only one deep,” I told her.
She lifted two fingers to the bartender and he gave a little nod, getting another shot glass and filling both mine and hers up.
“Put it on my tab, sweetie,” she told him and he gave a little nod again, already moving on down the bar.
“We want a dance,” she said finally. “If you’re up for four rowdy ladies.”
I sent her a look that said, are you serious right now? I'm a stripper, bitch then asked, “You have a token?”
“We have two each.”
Eight tokens? Uh, yes please.
“I’ll go get us a room,” I winked at her but she stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“Drink first. You’ll need it.”
She waved the bartender back over and he gave us two more shots, then she excused me as I left to go get a room.
“Gin, I need a big room. Got a party,” I told Ginny as I caught up to her.
“Ok. Room three is open. If someone’s in it, kick them out.”
“Thanks babe,” I kissed her on the cheek just like she hated and smiled as she pushed me off with a scoff.
“Keep those hooker lips to yourself, pretty boy!” she whispered harshly with a glimmer of excitement in her eyes.
“These lips are only for you!” I told her as I walked away and she flipped me off.
She was just the right type of lady to deal with all of our bullshit. She had us boys handled.
I blew her a kiss as I approached the blond again.
“What’s your name, gorgeous?” I asked her, sidling up beside her, rubbing my naked chest against her arm like the hooker Ginny tells me I am.
“Avery,” she smiled, her eyes shining in this knowing way, like she knew my kind and wasn’t fooled at all.
Despite that, she let herself fold into my attentions.
“What brings you and your lady friends to us tonight?” I asked her, wondering if it was someone’s birthday.
“No reason. We just wanted to let our hair down.”
Sounded like my type of ladies.
We just might have a bit of fun.
“Room ready?” she asked, fingering her shot glass.
A woman ending the flirting and going straight to the good stuff? Yep. Just my type.
“It is. Are you ready?”
“So beyond ready,” she grinned. “I’ve had a lady-boner since our little dance.”
Fuck yes.
She led the way from the bar and I saluted Yuke who winked at me. That was his, go get ‘em tiger wink. And I’d catch every fucking one of them.
If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review and subscribe to my mailing list for first dibs on deals and freebies!
Your reviews mean the world to me, and I love hearing from you!
Other Reads By L. L. Ash
Bloodlust Series
Exposure
Immersion
Revelation
Devil’s Cupid
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Box Set Parts I-V
Rock God Series
Phoenix
Crash
Harrison Series
Paradise City
Welcome To The Jungle
Estranged
Standalone Novels
Boyfriend By The Hour
For The Money
Novellas and Short Stories
Hitchhike
The Horror Of Our Love
About the Author
L.L. Ash is a Washington-born writer who has traveled and lived across the western coast of the US. She lives in Utah with her husband and 3 kids, all of which are a handful!
Ash has been writing fiction since she was 11 years old, and finished her first full-length romance novella at 12. While her writing has improved since then, her love for literature has not changed. Oftentimes you can find Ash reading an indie romance or enjoying a historical fiction. She has been an artist for decades but found her true love and passion in romances.
But Ash is not content to write a romance with untried characters or predictable ‘happily ever afters’. Ash strives to create honest stories revolving around struggling heroins and bruised heroes, both trying to find happiness and acceptance, just like we in real life do. She writes about real struggles and real hardships, often giving the characters a tarnished facade. But through the constant loving and hating of the characters, you will fall in love with them as they grow and change and evolve through the stories.
As Ash always says, it’s all about real romance for real life.
Find me at...
llashmedia.com
Goodreads
