by Kaylee, Katy
Paris moaned softly. She began grinding her hips and I reached for the bar of soap. After soaping my hands, I put them to her breasts and rubbed in slow, languid circles that made her pant with desire. Her nipples were stiff and puckered and I pulled her under the spray, washing her clean and dipping my head to suck on her clean breasts.
The response was instant. Paris bucked and arched her back, shoving her tits against my face. As I kissed and sucked at her nipples, I soaped my hands once again and put them between her legs, washing her small patch of auburn pubic hair. I let my hand stray dangerously close to her pussy but I didn’t touch her, not yet. Paris whimpered and moaned deep in her throat as she pushed her groin towards me, obviously wanting more. After rinsing her under the water, I dropped to my knees until I was eye-length with her gorgeous pink pussy. Paris looked down at me and steadied herself with a hand on the top of my head as she spread her legs, exposing a deliciously wet cunt. I teased her, licking her inner thighs and gently nipping at the sensitive skin until Paris began to tremble and shake. She was so wet that I could smell her even over the scent of the soap and it was driving me crazy.
I leaned closer and put my mouth to her pussy lips, sucking and biting and licking. Paris tangled her hand in my hand and spread her thighs, stepping apart and exposing her hard little clit. She smelled and tasted so good that I groaned into her pussy as I flicked my tongue over her most sensitive spot. I wanted to keep at it, keep eating her until she squirted all over my face, but in that moment I needed her, needed her in a way that I never had before. I got to my feet and kissed Paris deeply, letting her lick my face clean of her juices. She put her arms around my shoulders and I walked her backward, pressed her against the cool, tiled wall of the shower. Paris was curvy, but she wasn’t heavy, and lifting her in my arms practically took no strength at all. As if reading my mind, she wrapped her long legs around my waist and I felt my cock slip deep inside her perfect, tight pussy.
“You’re so wet for me,” I growled in her ear, pressing her harder against the wall and bucking my hips. Every thrust, every stroke of my cock in her felt better than the last and soon we were moving together in a perfect rhythm. My lust flowed faster and faster and we kissed, Paris moaning into my mouth as my cock slammed inside of her, buried to the hilt in her cunt.
Paris arched her back, shoving her wet, soapy tits against my chest and the sensation of her hard little nipples rubbing my body was torture. I groaned, thrusting deep and filling her. I could feel her clit rubbing eagerly against my body with every thrust. Having all of her in my arms like that, soaking wet and driven mad with pleasure, was the most erotic experience of my life and I knew it wouldn’t be long until I came hard and filled her with my seed.
“Harrison,” Paris whimpered in my ear before taking my earlobe into her mouth and sucking furiously. Her hot little tongue and mouth felt so fucking good that I shuddered and bucked my hips, grunting and grinding against her. I couldn’t fight the urge to fill her, thrust deep in her, claim her.
Make her mine.
Forever.
Paris began to shudder and she threw her head back against the tile wall as a powerful orgasm began to churn through her body. I felt her pussy clench my cock as each wave of delicious pleasure overtook her body. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she shrieked and moaned, crying out and calling my name, over and over again as she trembled and shook.
Seeing her do that, hearing the raw passion and emotion in her voice, was too much for me and I came, hard. My cock twitched and trembled, gushing inside of Paris’s lovely body. We howled and moaned together, kissing wetly and sloppily, our tongues finding each other as the feeling grew hotter and hotter.
When it was over, I took a deep, shuddering breath. The water had turned from hot to lukewarm and I slowly let Paris down to the ground before turning it off and standing in silence with her. My muscles ached from the effort of holding Paris in the air while fucking her, and I was trembling.
This wasn’t right.
Paris stepped out of the shower and gave me a shy smile as she reached for a towel and began drying off that lovely, stunning body of hers. I swallowed hard and looked away. Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist to cover my nakedness.
I couldn’t keep doing this. It wasn’t just that it wasn’t sustainable, but it was immoral. Paris was a young woman, too young to truly know what she wanted. And now that the cloud of lust was ebbing in my brain, I was beginning to see the situation for what it was.
Disgusting. I was so pathetic – I couldn’t resist temptation. As soon as she’d stepped into the bathroom, I should have told her to leave. But there had been a look in her eyes, a hungry, vulnerable gleam that had bewitched me even more than the sight of her naked, pale curves. Of course, I was attracted to her body. There wasn’t a single red-blooded American male who could have looked at Paris without wanting her. Her gorgeous red hair, her green eyes, and those curves ... just the sight of her was enough to set me on fire.
But it wasn’t just that. My attraction to Paris went far deeper than just surface level. Ever since I’d first met her, ten years ago, I’d seen that she was a queen - sweet, and smart young woman. She was so pure and innocent ... even while making love, she was transparent and open and unfettered. There was no artifice when it came to Paris. She didn’t play games, and she wasn’t cruel.
I was fucking in love with her, and it was wrong.
If we kept this up, I was so afraid that she would lose that innocence. I was afraid that if she knew truly the kind of work I did, it would ruin everything for her. I wouldn’t be her hero anymore – she’d look at me and see a broken, damaged man. She had put me on a pedestal for so long and shamefully, I’d always accepted it.
But now that we were sleeping together, it had to end. She still looked at me the same way that she had on the day we’d met, when she’d run into my arms and cried and held me tightly. Thinking about that day killed me. She hadn’t even known me – for all she had been aware of, I could have been another asshole like the drug dealer who had locked her up.
No. She had trusted me, she had given herself to me. She’d put her face in my neck and whispered her thanks and clung so tightly to me that my partner at the time had jokingly called her a spider monkey.
I’d thought that she’d grow out of her admiration for me. After all, she deserved far better than a used up old man. She deserved someone her own age, who could devote his entire life to her and worship her the way she deserved to be worshipped.
She deserved someone who could maintain her innocence and purity and faith in the world. For everything that Paris had been through, she had no reason to be as forgiving and sweet and kind as she was. She should have been hardened and cynical.
I couldn’t risk changing that. If I did something to make Paris see the world for what it truly was – grimy and gritty and full of horrors – I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
I had to put an end to this, and not just for my own good but also for hers. Paris would be better off without me. Not to mention, if Hollie ever found out, it would kill her. Paris couldn’t stand to lose Hollie, her best friend. Hollie had been her constant companion and her rock, and I would die before seeing that fade.
I knew it would hurt like hell. I loved Paris, deeply. And even knowing that it was for her own good wouldn’t help things.
There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to be hurting over this for the rest of my life.
I cleared my throat. Paris turned to me, still clad in a towel. Her damp auburn hair was clinging to her face and her cheeks were flushed with post-coital bliss. Her green eyes were wide as she searched my face.
“You can’t stay here anymore,” I told her gruffly.
Paris’s jaw dropped.
“I want you out,” I said, narrowing my eyes and clenching my towel around my waist with one fist.
Paris’s chin began to wobble and I watched her eyes fill with tears.
There was a sharp pain in my chest, like a knife, and for a moment I wondered if I was going into cardiac arrest.
Then I realized it was only because my heart was breaking.
“And I want you to quit dancing at The Pink Diamond,” I told her sharply. “And stay away from it. Do you understand?”
An angry, wounded look came over Paris’s lovely features and she clutched the towel tighter around her curvy body. The white cotton wasn’t quite large enough to conceal her features and I had to force my eyes away from the peek of creamy skin at her thighs.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Paris said. Her voice was soft but indignant, and there was fire in her emerald eyes.
“I can,” I said. “And I will. That club is dangerous in ways you haven’t even considered, and you have no business using your body earn…not…not like that.”
Paris narrowed her eyes at me. “I can’t quit,” she said. “I need the money.”
I couldn’t take the look in her eyes. If my chest had ached before, now it felt even worse. I felt nauseous and sick and weak, like I was going to collapse in a pile of my own vomit.
“I don’t care,” I said finally. It wasn’t true, but I couldn’t stand seeing her look at me like that, like a wounded puppy.
“You’re out of my house tomorrow,” I snapped. “And if I see you around that stupid fucking club, I’ll make sure you get fired faster than you can blink.”
Paris’s face went white and bloodless, like she’d been slapped. I could tell that her heart was breaking. She was blinking back tears and swallowing and after staring at me for a long, torturous moment, she gripped her towel tighter than ever and pushed out of the bathroom. She ran past me and slammed my bedroom door in her wake.
Every cell in my body wanted to run after her, to tell her that I was sorry. To take her into my arms and stroke her hair and soothe her crying and beg for her forgiveness. Tell her that I didn’t mean it – tell her that I had been nothing but a complete heel, an asshole, and that I didn’t deserve her.
But I couldn’t. Doing that would undo everything that I had just done, and I couldn’t have her around.
This was for her own good. I just hoped that someday, she’d be smart and wise enough to realize why I’d done what I’d done. I didn’t care if she ever forgave me. I just wanted her to understand that I’d only had her best interests in mind.
Leaving the bathroom, I threw myself on my bed. I fiercely regretted everything that had just happened, but I told myself that I’d get through it.
After all, I always did.
I was just going to have to play the villain once again, just as I’d done when Krista had left. I hadn’t ever wanted Hollie to find out how selfish and callous her mother had been, so I’d let my ex-wife blame everything on me. I’d been strong enough to pull through that and rebuild my life then. I’d been younger, tougher, and fiercely protective of my daughter.
But now, I was not sure that I could ever survive the knowledge that I finally disappointed Paris Malone.
14
Paris – Sunday
I could hardly drive – other cars kept honking and swerving around me. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t stop the hot tears from falling down my face.
I’d managed to ruin everything, but I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t expected that to happen when I’d joined Harrison in the shower. At first, it had been perfect. He’d looked at me with desire and love in his eyes and we’d joined together perfectly. It hadn’t just been sex, and it hadn’t just been raw fucking, either.
It had been making love, and I had never felt so happy as I did when Harrison had kissed me back.
We’d been getting closer. At least, I thought we had. Maybe, though, I’d been wrong all along. Maybe I’d only been seeing the things that I’d wanted to see, and I’d ignored all of the red flags and signs of danger.
I’d been wrong about something, that was for sure. When Harrison had thrown me out of his house, it had broken my heart. I’d never thought that I’d hear those words from his mouth, but he’d been as clear as day.
He didn’t want me, and maybe he never had from the beginning.
Maybe he wanted me gone because of what he had going on with Madison Maxx. Maybe I was nothing more than a side-piece, a cheap little thing to fuck while Madison was working. Maybe he had thought that I was too stupid to want anything more than his body.
Because I did want more than his body.
I wanted all of him: his mind, his heart, his emotions.
At least, I thought that I did.
It was hard for me to believe these horrible things about the man whom I’d worshipped for ten years. Harrison had been my savior and my saint, my champion and my rescuer. In my mind, there was no man on earth who could live up to his heroism. I’d been in love with him for so long that I felt like I had blinders on when it came to Harrison Hendricks.
Try as I might, I couldn’t think of any other reason why he would kick me out in such a heartless way. After he’d come deep inside of me, it was like a switch had flipped in his brain. It had to just be sex for him. If he truly loved and cared for me, there was no way he would have thrown me out like that.
It had to be because of Madison. If it wasn’t for her, there was no way Harrison would have ordered me to quit stripping at The Pink Diamond. He knew how badly I needed the money.
Was he just trying to punish me?
The idea was enough to make me cry even harder. By the time I pulled up at the club, I was a mess. I sat in my car and tried to take deep breaths and soothe my puffy eyes. At least I hadn’t been wearing any makeup, but it was fairly obvious that I’d just been sobbing my eyes out.
Anger began to fill me as I went over the events of the day in my head. Harrison thought he could control me, that I was still some dumb little girl in need of rescuing.
But I wasn’t. I was an adult woman, someone who could take care of herself.
Pressing my lips together in a firm line, I took a deep breath and left my car. The club was starting to fill up for the evening and instead of going to the dressing room to change, I made my way to Angel’s office and knocked on the door.
“It’s open,” Angel yelled.
When I opened the door, he was sitting at his desk with his feet kicked up and his phone in his hands. He looked at me and grinned.
“Hey, doll,” Angel said. “Feeling any better?”
I nodded, forcing a smile on my face. “Yes, much,” I lied. “Thanks so much for not minding that I took yesterday off.”
Angel nodded. “Anything to keep my girls happy,” he said. He flashed me another wide grin. “What can I do for you?”
I sat down in the chair across from his desk. “Actually,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m here to talk about what you mentioned yesterday. You said there was a way for me to start making a lot more money, right?”
Angel’s smile grew even wider and he nodded.
“Of course, doll,” he said. “You know, a lot of girls come here and they don’t realize something.” He paused, and I wasn’t sure whether or not he had been asking me a rhetorical question.
“I don’t understand,” I said slowly.
Angel nodded. He was obviously pleased to be having this conversation with me, and I wondered how many women had been sitting in my very spot, listening to his words.
“Dancing, doll, well that’s just the stepping stone,” Angel continued. He put his phone down and raised an eyebrow at me. “The real money, you know, is in private events.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but I nodded all the same.
“You’re new, sure, but I’ve seen you move,” Angel said. “Those men, they were really hot for you. Tonight, there’s a party happening and I bet you could walk away with a grand.”
I blinked at him. “A thousand dollars?” I repeated, feeling stupid.
Angel nodded. “If you tag along, I can all but guarantee it,” he said.
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br /> The amount was shocking. A thousand dollars? I’d made about seventy-five dollars dancing the other night, and I’d heard that girls could clear a couple hundred from doing lap dances all night.
But a thousand? This sounded too good to be true, and I felt the seeds of doubt beginning to creep in.
“It’s just for dancing?” I asked, unable to keep the skepticism from my voice.
Angel nodded. “You’ll have a good time,” he said. “Trust me, a lot of girls prefer doing this to dancing up on stage. You’re not under all those hot lights, hurting your knees while crawling around. These parties are always in really nice hotels. There’s food, and champagne, and a lot of rich men.”
It sounded seedy – somehow, even more seedy than dancing at the club did because of the trappings of wealth.
“And, you’ll make a boatload of cash,” Angel said. He grinned at me. “You’re gorgeous and you got a great body. You could probably clear even more than a thousand, easy.”
I didn’t really have the option to refuse. I needed cash, fast ... especially now that I needed to find a new place to stay.
“Okay,” I told him. “Sure. That sounds great.”
“Good,” Angel said. He smirked at me, then scribbled something down on a piece of paper. “Be there in an hour,” he said, passing me the address of a luxury hotel in Lincoln Park. “And make sure you look gorgeous,” he added.
An hour later, I held my breath as I walked into the lobby of The Pinnacle with Livvie and a couple of other dancers from the club. Madison wasn’t with us – thinking about her made me jealous and angry. I wondered if she was back at the club, dancing for Harrison.
But I couldn’t think about him, not now. I had to paste on a bright smile and shake my body and earn as much money as I possibly could.
Upstairs, Livvie led the way into a large suite. Angel was there, with three other men. The three other men were all wearing cowboy hats and ruddy suntans, but their clothing looked expensive. They looked nice enough, but they were all huge and suddenly I felt a flash of pity. I couldn’t imagine being so overweight that I’d have to pay someone to pretend to have a good time with me.