by Kaylee, Katy
I’d just have to focus on finding a way to make Paris quit the club. God knew there were enough things I could show – crime scene photos from incidents involving sex workers and their jealous fans, or worse, their bosses. Investigations that I could tell her about that left strippers dead, hacked to bits on the streets of Chicago.
Inwardly, I groaned and pressed my lips together. I had the sinking feeling that no matter what I told Paris, she wouldn’t give up stripping. Something was seriously wrong with her – so wrong that she couldn’t even feel that she could talk about it, other than to vaguely hint about being in trouble – and she was being so stubborn that I didn’t know if I could get through to her.
At any rate, I knew that I still had to try.
Convincing her to quit dancing had been my goal last night, until she’d taken advantage of a weak moment and distracted me with her beauty.
Was it always going to be like that?
Was I ever going to be able to have a normal conversation with her again?
I sighed.
“Dad!” Hollie said loudly, snapping me out of my head. “You’re doing it again?”
I blinked at my daughter. She was staring at me with a look of consternation. To my dismay, I saw Paris standing behind her, with her back to me. Paris stood at the counter, pouring herself a cup of coffee and stirring in an ample amount of sugar. When she was done, she carried the mug to the table and sat down. Paris blew on the hot surface of her coffee and refused to meet my eyes.
“Dad, I asked if you wanted me and Paris to make dinner for you,” Hollie said. “You’re like, falling asleep on your feet over there.”
I blinked at her. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” I said. “That’s nice of you, really, but I need to go down to the station for a while.”
Hollie narrowed her eyes and looked at the clock. “I meant later,” she said. “You know,” she added slyly. “Like around the time most people eat dinner. Not at ten in the morning.”
God, I was fucking scattered. And being within two feet of Paris again wasn’t helping. She was freshly showered, with damp strand of auburn hair brushing the shoulders of her floral robe. I could smell her body wash, and that was enough to bring back the musky, sweet scent of her pussy. I could feel my cock throb to life in my pants, and I cursed the man who had invented scented body wash.
If I didn’t get out of there immediately, I was going to lose it.
“Yeah, uh, sure, honey,” I said to Hollie as I got to my feet. “I’m going downtown. You need anything?”
“No,” Hollie said. She was still giving me a strange look and I pasted a fake smile on my face in a desperate attempt to convince my daughter that all was normal. Thankfully, Hollie smiled back. I grabbed my badge and keys from the hall table, and then headed out into the bright sunshine.
It was hot outside and I almost instantly broke into a sweat. I hated summer in Chicago – it was always sticky and humid and unfair, considering we already had to deal with shit winters. The city had always been a temperamental bitch, but it was home. I’d been in the area for nearly my entire life, and I had no intention of leaving now. Back when Krista and I were still together, she used to joke about retiring to a lake house in Michigan or Wisconsin.
Now, I knew that would never happen.
I climbed in my car and drove down to the station, hoping to take my mind off Paris with work. It wasn’t healthy for her to occupy as much space in my mind as she did. In all honesty, I thought that finally sleeping with her would take her off my mind for good, but it hadn’t done shit.
If anything, my desire for her was even greater than it had been before. If Paris hadn’t told me that it was her first time, I never would have known. She made love like an expert, like a porn star.
It was completely at odds with her big, innocent eyes.
But I had fucking loved it, and I couldn’t deny that.
I thought about her all the way down to police headquarters, then tried hard to shove her out of my mind. I parked in the garage, then went inside and found my partner, Steve. He was sitting in a room in the basement with the digital forensic team, poring over stacks of printed paper. He didn’t even look up until I rapped him on the shoulder.
“What did you find?” I asked, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to him.
Steve frowned. “A list of payoffs,” he said, narrowing his eyes and turning his focus back to the sheet of paper in his hands. “With the amounts cleared by the exchanges.”
“Nice,” I said, nodding slowly.
“But we didn’t find the key for the names of the people involved,” Steve said. He put the piece of paper back down on the table and turned to me. “They’re all referred to by a color.”
“Jesus,” I said. “What is this, Reservoir Dogs?”
Steve didn’t laugh. “Unless we find that key, we aren’t gonna be able to identify shit,” he said. “There won’t be a way to link them to the evidence, and without that, we can’t organize a sting.”
“We’re running out of time,” I told him. An image of Paris, clad in that obscene pink bikini raced through my mind.
“Why?” Steve narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s going on?”
I sighed and turned away, feeling the guilt burn me like a brand.
“I know one of the dancers,” I admitted.
“Well, yeah,” Steve said. “Your fake girlfriend, remember?”
I sighed. “No,” I said. “Someone else. One of the new dancers is a friend of Hollie’s.”
Steve’s eyes widened for a second, showing more emotion than I’d seen him express in at least a year.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “She could jeopardize the whole operation.”
“I know,” I reply sharply.
“We’ve got to find a way to keep her clear of things,” Steve said. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Unless you think she’s tied up in the drug ring.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “She’s an innocent.”
“Is there any way you could convince her to quit?” Steve asked flatly. “Pull some fatherly bullshit, tell her there’s something else she should be doing?”
“I tried that already,” I told him. “I don’t think it took.”
“We can figure something out,” Steve said. “Maybe get her fired.”
I frowned. I didn’t like the idea of meddling in Paris’s life – any more than I already had, at least.
“Give me another shot at trying to talk her out of it,” I said. “I’ve known her for a long time.”
Steve gave me a strange look, but didn’t say anything for a moment. When he spoke, I was surprised to hear that it wasn’t about Paris.
“You need to press Madison,” Steve said. “See if you can find out anything else about Mr. Green and Mr. Orange.”
I nodded.
“It’s about that time, isn’t it?” Steve asked. He checked his watch. “They’ll be open soon.”
“I’ll get going,” I said. Then, in a dry voice, I added: “Wish me luck.”
Steve merely smirked.
As I left the station and headed for The Pink Diamond, my head was a mess. I had to find a way to talk Paris into quitting.
The only question was, how the fuck was I going to do it?
10
Paris – Saturday
Standing in the dressing room at The Pink Diamond, I felt even shakier than I had before my first dance. I peered out the one-way glass into the club. It was a mirror on the other side, and it never failed to amaze me how many guys didn’t think it would be a trick. I was looking for Harrison, but he was nowhere to be seen.
My heart sank. I knew it sounded crazy, but a part of me thought that the only reason I made it through the night before was because of him, because of our connection.
Could I really do it again – take my clothes off for those random, gross guys as they threw money at me? I bit my lip so hard that seconds later, I tasted blood. Everything seemed even seedier tonight than it had the n
ight before, and I swallowed hard.
I have to do this, I thought. I have to make enough money to go back to school, to live Hollie’s dream and my own.
Madison’s music started blasting through the speakers and I leaned against the wall. I was wearing a sequined bra with a matching thong and my whole body was trembling nervously. Somehow, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something awful was going to happen.
Where is he, I thought anxiously, peering out the one-way glass again and scanning the club. It was early in the day, early afternoon, and I figured maybe Harrison only showed up at night.
I knew I didn’t have long before Madison’s signature song ended and I’d have to go out on stage again. As I took a deep breath, I heard the door open and close behind me. When I turned, my jaw dropped.
Harrison was standing there. He did a quick check of the room, then locked the door behind him. As he stalked over to me, my heart began to race in my chest. He was so close that I could have touched him, but I could hardly move. I wondered if he was going to lecture me again, or worse, act like the night before had never even happened.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
Harrison didn’t reply, and my pulse quickened.
“Shouldn’t you be out front?” I asked, cocking my head to the side and raising an eyebrow at him. “You know. Where your girlfriend is.”
Harrison remained silent, and I swallowed hard. I didn’t have it in me to fight with him – not again, not now when I was about to go on stage and strip out of my stupid, sparkly lingerie. If I started crying, I could only imagine how that would go.
“I really don’t have time for this,” I said as I gestured between Harrison and myself. “Whatever this is, anyway.” I stepped forward, so close that I could smell his cologne, and tried to step past him. But Harrison wouldn’t let me by. He grabbed my arms with both hands and held me firmly in place. A warm feeling began to spread through me and even though I knew it was wrong, I couldn’t stop it.
“What do you do want?” I asked softly.
A parade of emotions spread over Harrison’s face.
“I want you out of here,” Harrison said.
I frowned. “You know, you’re technically the one in the wrong place. Men aren’t allowed in here.”
Harrison sighed in exasperation. “Come on, Paris,” he said. “You’re better than this. You know it just as well as I do.”
His words made me feel sick to my stomach. Was I better than this? I was nothing special. Just a girl raised in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Chicago. My parents were addict trash.
If anything, I was about right where I deserved to be.
“You should go,” I said. I was unable to tear my eyes from Harrison’s gaze. “If you don’t leave now, you’re going to miss Madison’s dance entirely.”
Harrison didn’t let me go. He pulled me closer, leaning in until his face was mere inches from mine.
“I won’t let you go,” Harrison growled. “I’m not letting you get back on that stage.”
“You don’t own me,” I replied hotly. “In fact, if I remember clearly, I’m nothing more than a mistake to you,” I said, spitting the word like it was corrosive poison.
Harrison shook his head. “No, Paris,” he said. “No. You’re so much more to me than just that.”
Before I could reply, his mouth was on mine, kissing me hotly. Arousal spread through my body like wildfire and I melted into Harrison’s arms, melted against his strong frame. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body to his without even thinking about it. Being with him was like second nature, and soon my tongue was dancing with his, tasting him. Harrison nibbled at my lower lip and I moaned softly and wriggled my body. Pushed against his hard torso, my breasts tingled and my nipples stiffened. Just kissing him was enough to make me wet, and when Harrison shoved one of his broad thighs between my bare legs, I gasped as pleasure raced through my body.
I couldn’t help myself. Surrendering to him was the only thing I could do. What had happened last night had done nothing to diminish my passion for Harrison, and my body was aching with lust for him.
“I want you,” Harrison growled. He tangled a hand in my hair and kept my face pressed close to his as our kiss grew more intense. My heart was thudding so fast that I worried for a moment it would burst. When he broke the kiss, he stared at me with his intense blue gaze. Poring into his eyes, I felt like I could disappear there.
“Do you want me, Paris?” Harrison growled.
All I could do was nod.
11
Harrison – Saturday
She was mine. She was in my arms, panting and clawing and scratching at me. She was kissing me with that ripe mouth of hers, dancing her tongue along the inside of my mouth. She was moaning and pressing her round, natural tits against my chest and begging me to fuck her.
God, I wanted her so bad that I knew in that moment I’d never be able to stay away from Paris Malone.
I ran my hands over her body, drinking her in with my fingers, eager to touch every inch of her perfect, porcelain skin. My hands roamed and strayed over her curves, squeezing her ass until she moaned loudly into my mouth. Without breaking our passionate kiss, I walked her backwards and we collapsed onto a velvet sofa together in a tangle of limbs. Paris was underneath me, panting and straining, her legs already spread. She was wearing a sequin-covered bra that pushed her tits into an obscenely high cleavage and a thong, which perfectly divided the cleft of her ass into two perfect globes. I’d never been much of a man for lingerie, but seeing her like that made me throbbing and hard.
“Mmmn,” Paris moaned. I flipped her over, until she was on her stomach, and she spread her legs and arched her back. Her perfect, firm ass was sticking high in the air and I could already smell the fragrant musk of her pussy. As I reached between her legs and rubbed her through her thong, Paris whimpered and moaned. She twisted her hips, bucking and thrusting her ass towards me.
Begging me to take her.
I reached beneath her chest and cupped one of her tits in my hand, rubbing and squeezing and pinching her nipple until she was howling with pleasure into the seat of the couch. My own cock was throbbing so hard that I thought I would burst with lust, and my balls were aching with my seed. I wanted to fill her with my cock, thrust and bury myself deep inside of her wet, velvety pussy until I gave her my seed.
Paris raised herself on all fours, then looked at me over her shoulder. She licked her lips as we made eye contact, then turned around and her fingers flew to my shirt. She unbuttoned it with rapid haste, pulling the cotton away from my body and throwing it to the side. I groaned as Paris dipped her head to my chest, licking and sucking and moving her hands over my bare skin. It felt so good that I threw my head back and screwed my eyes closed. She moved her hands lower and lower, fumbling with my pants and yanking them down until they were pooled around my bent knees. Paris rubbed my hard dick through my boxers, then yanked them down and my cock bobbed free. She dropped to her hands and knees and started sucking me, flicking her tongue against the tender underside of the head. It felt so good that I saw stars. Hot pleasure raced through my veins like lava and I tangled a hand in Paris’s hair, thrusting into her mouth until I was nearly buried down her throat.
Paris pulled away. She looked up at me, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, and then licking her lips. She was breathing hard and her tits were heaving with each breath. Without taking her eyes from mine, Paris pulled her top down and her breasts spilled out. Her pink nipples were magnificently hard and I leaned closer and flicked my tongue over them, one at a time, until Paris cried out with desire. I reached for her thong and pulled it down her round hips, exposing her gorgeous pink pussy. I could see she was soaking wet and the smell was intoxicating. Pushing her onto her back, I crawled between her legs and leaned over her body. My hands went right to her breasts and began massaging them, rolling her nipples between my fingers until she squirmed and whined and moaned. I rubbed m
y thigh between her legs, hard, until she was grinding her wet pussy against it. Knowing how much she wanted me – that she couldn’t even control herself – made me even hotter.
I gently pushed Paris to the side and lay down on the couch, on my back. She knew what to do, and crawled on top of me, staring down at me as the heat of her pussy teased my hard cock.
“I want to ride you,” Paris said in a breathy whisper. Her cheeks were damp and flushed scarlet as she took my cock in one hand and held it steady as she lowered herself down against my body. As I entered her soaking cunt, I arched my back and groaned. Paris didn’t ease herself down – she impaled herself on my manhood, hard, and began to frantically rock her hips against my body. Her tits were bouncing with every motion and I pinched and played with her nipples as she rode my cock.
“You feel so fucking good,” I groaned, unable to stop myself. Every motion, every movement was only sending me into a paroxysm of desire. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I came, and I slipped my hand between our bodies and began to rub Paris’s clit.
She shrieked and moaned, writhing and undulating her hips on my cock as she ground against my touch. Throwing her head back, Paris bit her lip and shook as I flicked her clit with my fingers. She was so wet that I could feel her juices flowing down my hips every time she rose her body, and I shuddered knowing that I was the one who had brought her to such a state.
“Yeah, baby,” I growled. “Fucking come for me, baby!”
As if on command, Paris’s whole body began to shake. She trembled and gasped as her orgasm took over and I watched her face, staring as her expression changed into one of heavenly pleasure. Her pussy clenched my cock and it sent me over the edge. Clenching Paris by her ample hips and digging my fingers into her, I thrust up, as hard as I could. My cock sprayed seed deep inside of her and we rocked together in an animalistic, sensual rhythm.