Beautiful Liar

by Natasha Knight

  Too intuitive. I loved her, but how could I tell her what had happened, what he’d done to Janey? I couldn’t. It was too awful. “I’m okay. Thanks, though. I really am sure he was just passing through. Did you say coffee break?” I asked, changing the subject, her keen eyes studying me far too closely.

  She nodded. “You’d tell me if you were in trouble, wouldn’t you, Mac?”

  Tears warmed my eyes. I nodded my lie. Just like when I’d asked her to pay me in cash, she smiled and patted my hand. We walked toward the café, talking about nothing in particular. We drank our coffee, and then Mrs. Donnelly left. I locked up the shop and sat at the café, waiting until I’d calmed down enough not to scare the shit out of Janey. My hands still shook as I dialed her number. It went to voice mail, and I hung up. Within a few minutes, my phone rang.

  “Hey, missed your call. I had two bags of groceries and Sadie in my arms!”

  “It’s okay.” How was I going to tell her about Bill? About what he’d said? How could I do that without freaking her out?

  “What’s up? You don’t usually call around this time.”

  Tears streaked down my face. How would I be able to protect her and Sadie? Would Bill hurt them? Would he try to take Sadie away? No, that wasn’t a concern. It couldn’t be. He’d go to prison if anyone found out. The only reason he wasn’t there rotting now was Janey. She still somehow believed that what had happened was in some way her fault. But he could make their lives a living hell, and if he’d touched Janey, what was to stop him…

  No! I couldn’t think about that. He could not be allowed to be in their lives. He could never know Sadie.

  I couldn’t tell her about him being here, not yet. And at least if he was here, she and Sadie were safe.

  “I just wanted to tell you that I may be late sending you more money.” I made it up as I went along, just wanting the reassurance of hearing her voice. I realized though as I said the words that they may be true. Why else would Bill have come out here but for money? There was no other reason.

  “Oh, Mac, you’ve done so much already. We’re fine right now, and I have that job interview tomorrow, so keep your fingers crossed. It’s at the day care, so Sadie could come with me.”

  “Well, it’ll just be late. Even with the job, it’s expensive bringing up a little girl on your own.”

  “I’m not on my own. I’ve got you and Aunt Alice.”

  “I know.”

  “You sure you’re okay, Mac?”

  I wiped my face. “I’m fine. I’d better get back to work. Give Sadie and Aunt Alice a kiss for me, okay?”

  “I will. I’d love to see you sometime, sis.”

  “Me too.”

  That night, I left for my shift at the club at a little after eleven. I entered from the back entrance, said hello to Jack, and headed into the dressing room. Angie sat at her makeup mirror, gluing on false eyelashes.

  “Hey, Angie.”

  “Hey, Hon. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine, I guess.”

  “Hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you look tired.”

  “I feel tired.”

  “Want me to cover some of your shift?”

  “No. I need the money. But thanks.”

  There was a round of clapping from the main room. “That’s my cue. Jackie’s done. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “See you.”

  Angie left. I sat down and opened the locked drawer where I kept my makeup. I started with the contacts. I removed my glasses and popped the brown lenses in to hide my eyes. I then put on my makeup, making a point of tucking the red lipstick into my pocket to bring home. I changed into my outfit for the first set, a sexy white lace ensemble along with over-the-knee socks and high-heeled Mary Jane’s. Binding my hair in a tight bun, I put some finishing touches on my makeup and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t hate dancing. At least not behind this mask. It was as though it wasn’t me up there. When the music came on, I just closed my eyes and zoned out. In a way, it provided a release.

  At the next round of cheering, I slipped some long gloves on and headed out to the stage. I knew as soon as I stood in the wings that he was out there. I knew it like I had known the other night, when something felt different. Slater sat in the audience, and he would watch me dance.

  The thought made me nervous and excited all at once.

  Angie’s set ended, and the curtains closed. I took my position, and a few minutes later, my music started and the curtain slowly parted. Although it wasn’t easy to see, I searched the crowd as I began my dance. It took a few minutes. I wondered if he knew I was looking for him. There. There he was, just peeking out of the shadows of the farthest table.

  My heartbeat picked up, and my gaze never moved from that spot, even though he’d settled back into the darkness. I danced for him, strangely liking the idea of his eyes on me, remembering the feel of his tongue on my breasts, on my sex, sucking my clit. Remembered how I’d come with images of him kneeling behind me, fucking his palm as he looked at me, submissive before him, exposed to him.

  The catcalls grew louder tonight than any other night, and by the time my dance was over, I was sweating, out of breath, and I longed for release. I’d never felt so needy before.

  “Mac.”

  It was Jack. He stood waiting for me just as I came off the stage.

  “Hi, Jack,” I wanted to get to the bathroom and get myself off. I didn’t want to talk to Jack right now.

  “You were good, really good.”

  “Thanks.” I tried to shove past him, but he caught my arm.

  “I know you don’t do the private rooms, but I thought I’d ask.”

  I started to shake my head and open my mouth, but he continued.

  “Five grand.”

  Five thousand dollars? Déjà vu. My magic number.

  “He’s a big guy, tattoos, looks kind of rough, but I’ll be watching. You give me the signal, and I will be in there hauling his ass out before you know it.”

  I doubted that. Slater was twice as big as Jack. But was it Slater? Why would he pay five thousand dollars for something he could demand from me anytime he pleased?

  I shook my head. “Jack…”

  “It’s five thousand dollars. Twenty minutes of your time. A private dance. I’ll be real honest and tell you you’d be stupid not to take it.”

  He was right. Of the five, I’d keep four grand and he’d get one. That would go a very long way. Twenty minutes. If I didn’t want him to touch me, he wouldn’t. It was the rule, just that most girls bent that one for the money.

  “Which room?” I asked.

  Jack smiled. “Five.”

  Taking a deep breath, I went toward room five. What if it wasn’t Slater? What if it was some other guy? Would I still dance for him? No, it had to be Slater. It would be a hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t.

  Knocking once on the door, I stood up straighter and pushed it open. The room was dark except for the disco ball that hung from the ceiling casting colorful lights throughout the small space. A bench took up the back, and a small pedestal had been erected just before it, just to get the important bits up at eye level. Shame heated my face. Slater sat back, sipping a drink, looking relaxed, although not quite as cocky as usual. He scanned my body.

  I went inside and closed the door behind me.

  “I like watching you dance,” he said, his words slower than normal.

  I studied him, saw the darkness in his tired eyes. “Is that why you paid five grand for twenty minutes?” I knew Jack would be watching, but he couldn’t hear us.

  “I have no fucking idea.” He finished his drink. “Make it worth my money, MacKayla.”

  He leaned back in his seat, and I wondered how much he’d been drinking.

  “Ticktock.”

  He pointed to a spot just before him. Why was this so much more embarrassing than doing it onstage with a roomful of people, even if I did know he’d been part of the audience?

  And w
hy was it so much more arousing?

  I climbed onto the pedestal and started to move to the music.

  “We’re being watched,” I said by way of warning.

  “I don’t give a fuck.”

  His eyes grew lustful, heated as they searched my near-naked body. The only thing I had on was the thong I’d kept on throughout my show.

  “Feel how hard my cock is, MacKayla.”

  I moved from the pedestal and climbed onto the bench to put my knees on either side of Slater’s legs. Being this close, I could smell him, his scent making me want to touch his face with mine, making me want to kiss him, strip off his jeans, slide myself onto his cock.

  He must have read my mind because he brought his chin to my face, the short shadow of a beard scratching my skin. When he opened his mouth to kiss mine, the faint scent of whisky lingered on his breath. But he didn’t kiss me. Not exactly. His eyes open, he licked my lower lip, then took it between his teeth and tugged before sucking it. Moisture soaked my thong, and when he released me, I moved my hips, losing the rhythm for a beat, and brought my clit to the erection threatening to rip right through his jeans.

  “That’s what you do to me,” he said, his hands coming to my hips.

  “No hands, Slater.” He took them off me and put them on either side of him on the bench. I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his, my power over him in that moment intoxicating.

  “I want to make you come.”

  I rose to stand on the bench, still straddling him, my cunt near his face, his dark eyes near black from arousal.

  “Do you?” I reached down to pull the crotch of my string over and showed him the seam of my sex, just for an instant, just long enough to touch it to his mouth, his nose, before covering it again. He was going to be the one to leave here wanting tonight. I stepped off the bench he sat on and continued to dance on the pedestal.

  “Turn around and show me your ass.”

  Fuck.

  I turned around, still dancing, and slowly bent over.

  “No, not enough. I want…everything.”

  “Didn’t you see it all last night?” I taunted as I reached back to slide the string aside, giving him a full view of my wet cunt.

  “Fuck, MacKayla.”

  It was more groan than anything else, and I arched my back, liking this power over him, even while my own clit throbbed.

  “More.”

  I glanced back, watching his face, knowing what he wanted. I pulled the string wider and bent deeper, moving my hips side to side, showing him everything.

  I wanted him. I wanted him bad, but Jack would be watching. Hell, he probably already had his cock in his hand.

  Releasing the string, I straightened, turning. Slater leaned a little to the side.

  “I want to fuck you so fucking bad, MacKayla. I should be repelled by you. I should fucking hate you. Thing is, I thought I did. But fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting you.”

  “Wanting to punish me?” I asked, leaning forward with my hands on his thighs, watching him as he blinked too slowly.

  He shook his head. “Just wanting you.”

  The thin watch at my wrist vibrated. “Time’s up.”

  He made a sound and closed his eyes.

  “How much did you drink, Slater?”

  He didn’t answer my question. “Fuck, MacKayla. I want to hate you, but all I can think about is how good my cock would feel inside your cunt.”

  “Shit.”

  I signaled toward the camera. Jack took a few minutes, during which time I did not want to know what he was doing.

  “Easiest five grand you ever made, right?” Jack asked when he finally entered, looking at Slater, who sat all but passed out.

  “Four. Help me get him into my car, will you? I know him.”

  “I knew there had to be something for him to pay that much. I’m sorry. I know you like to keep a low profile.”

  “Just help me get him into my car.”

  “I’ll have one of the guys give me a hand. You go get changed.”

  I watched as Jack’s gaze slid over my body and blushed. I shook my head. After all this time, I still blushed.

  “Thanks.”

  “You got it. Hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Me too,” I muttered to myself as I headed to the dressing room to change.

  Ten minutes later, I merged onto the highway with Slater strapped into the passenger seat beside me.

  “Where’s my bike?”

  “You’re in no condition to drive any sort of motor vehicle, Slater.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You can barely keep your eyes open.” I glanced at him to find him watching me.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “Because I couldn’t leave you passed out at a strip club, now could I?”

  “Why?”

  “Because it wouldn’t be right to walk away.” I said, unsure, but took the leap. “And when you’re sober, I need to talk to you.”

  He studied me, and I wondered if he was too drunk to understand. He rubbed his face, his eyes, then focused forward. “I talked to my little girl. Well, not mine, but…”

  “What do you mean, not yours?” I forced myself to keep my gaze looking out the front window, but the way his voice sounded, tortured, I felt it in my own heart.

  “They’re taking her to Disney World.”

  I didn’t speak. Maybe he hadn’t heard my question. And what could I say?

  “I only talked to her for a minute before she ran off, distracted by something else.”

  His voice broke, and tears filled my eyes.

  “Fuck, I need a drink,” he said, reaching into his jacket pocket for a flask I hadn’t seen earlier. “You don’t know the day I’ve had.”

  “I won’t be able to get you inside if you can’t walk.”

  “Last thing I want to be right now is sober.”

  We drove in silence the rest of the way, me biting my lip, anxious. Slater had closed his eyes by the time we got back to the neighborhood. I parked in front of his house and sighed when he didn’t open them once I’d parked and killed the engine. He was a big guy. There was no way I’d be able to haul him up to his house.

  I opened the passenger-side door. He blinked a few times.

  “We’re here.”

  He didn’t seem to register what I’d said. I reached over him to unfasten his seat belt. His hand came to rest on my low back, then moved to my ass.

  I didn’t move for a full minute, then cleared my throat and clicked to release the seat belt.

  “Where are your keys?”

  He stepped out of the car and looked at me, all evidence of intoxication having vanished from his face. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a set of keys.

  “Let’s get you inside.” I didn’t want to leave him out here like this. There was something in his eyes, in his silence. He needed me.

  We walked up the porch steps. He unlocked the front door, pushed it open, and gestured for me to enter.

  I hesitated, my heartbeat picking up, remembering what he’d said about owning my nights.

  “I don’t want to be alone tonight, MacKayla,” he said, as if reading my mind. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “You haven’t hurt me, Slater. God knows you have the right, but you haven’t done it.”

  He motioned again for me to enter, and I did, wondering if I’d chosen wisely when he locked the door behind us.

  “Upstairs.”

  I obeyed without a word, and he followed, his steps heavy behind mine. With a hand at my back, he guided me toward the bedroom, not bothering to turn on the light when we got there. Instead, as soon as we stepped through the door, his arm circled my middle and he pulled me to him, turning me around to face him. Not a word passed between us. Using the light of the streetlamp streaming into the room, I looked at him, at his eyes. His gaze searched my face, seeking something I wasn’t sure I could give. He kissed m
e, his mouth crushing mine, his lips soft, the kiss rough. He wound a hand into my hair while the other pressed at the space between my shoulder blades, holding me. I opened to him, moaning when his tongue entered my mouth. He walked me backward toward the bed, not breaking our kiss until the backs of my knees hit the mattress and I fell onto it, sitting. He remained standing, pulling his shirt over his head and baring his chest to my gaze. Both arms were covered in tattoos, some dark, some full of vibrant color. I stared, unable to peel my gaze away from his muscled chest to the six-pack abs, knowing much of the muscle had been put on during the last three years. He hadn’t been this big or bulked up before, and his collection of ink hadn’t been nearly as extensive as it was now.

  He unzipped his jeans and pushed them off so he stood before me in a pair of tight black boxer briefs, his erection thick behind the fabric. I stared. He climbed up onto the bed, first one knee, hauling me up and back before straddling me, his gaze hungry. I reached for him, wanting to kiss him again, to taste his mouth, to feel him close to me, because close was where I was safe.

  “You like dancing, stripping, don’t you? You like having all those men look at you? Wanting you?”

  Without giving me a chance to process what he’d said, he tugged first my hoodie, then the T-shirt I had on beneath it, over my head. I sat upright, and he kissed me again, his hands deftly moving to undo my jeans.

  “You liked showing me your cunt tonight, didn’t you? Like you have every other time I’ve asked.”

  “Slater…”

  “It’s true, don’t deny it.”

  Slater lifted my hips so he could tug my jeans down my hips and off my legs. He looked at me for a moment before climbing back on top of me, his mouth closing over mine again, his hands working to unhook the back of my bra.

  “But you don’t let anyone see your cunt besides me,” he said, as if affirming it to himself, talking to himself.

  He tugged the bra off and pushed me to lie down before taking hold of my panties and stripping them down my thighs. Then he stood there looking at me, at my eyes, my breasts, my belly, and finally, my sex.