by Sarah Bale
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Daisy and the Dead- Chapter One
Virgin Wars- Chapter One
Hard Lessons
Sarah Bale
Copyright © 2017 by Sarah Bale
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Book Genesis
Cover Images by nelka7812 (depositphoto.com)
First Printing: August 2017
Hard Lessons / Sarah Bale. -- 1st ed
Created with Vellum
To Katie – for always helping me brainstorm.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Also by Sarah Bale:
Daisy and the Dead- Chapter One
Virgin Wars- Chapter One
About the Author
The Men of Bangers are charming, attentive, and unapologetic in their love of women. Most of all they crave fulfilling your darkest, most forbidden fantasies… for a price. But what will it take to bring these bad boys to their knees?
Meet Diesel:
I get hard for one thing and one thing only.
Power.
My name is Diesel and I’ll rock your world… if you submit to me.
When SHE walks into my club giving me that look that’s driven me crazy since high school, all bets are off.
I never let a woman get the best of me and it’s time to show Ms. Bliss who is boss.
** Warning: This is a fast paced book that will make you squirm in your seat. The conclusion to the series ends in a HEA that will leave you satisfied. **
Chapter 1
“Diesel, you’re needed for a VIP dance. Said she’s been waiting all night.”
I nod at the waiter and Ridge smirks at me.
“Is it your clingy one?”
“Yeah.”
“How long has she been waiting?”
I glance at my watch. “Maybe an hour? Fuck. Not long enough.”
“Is she still being stingy with her money?”
“Yeah.”
It’s starting to piss me off, too. She thinks we have something special. Maybe we did – when she tipped well. But now… Now I’d rather sit backstage and hide from her.
Ridge’s phone dings and he grins. “My night’s getting better.”
“The bachelorette?”
“She might not be one for much longer.” He slaps me on the back as he walks out.
They’ve seen each other a lot in the last month, so it won’t surprise me if she ends things with her fiancé.
I sit for a moment longer before cursing. Might as well get this over with. And, depending on the amount of cash she drops, this might be our last fucking encounter.
I step onto the main floor with a smile on my face.
I see her right away, but act like I don’t. I stop at a different table and say hello to one of the other regulars. This particular lady is waiting for Rod. To each their own. She understands club etiquette, though, and tips me while we chat. Then I move on to my client.
She sips her drink, glaring at me.
“Hey, sugar,” I say.
I plant a wet kiss on her cheek, which I know she hates. She wipes it away.
“I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”
Ugh. She’s about to do her fucking pouty face, I know it. Yup. Here it comes.
Her bottom lip sticks out unnaturally and she squints her eyes. I’m sure in her mind she looks adorable. She looks like a scrunched up asshole. Not even kidding.
“I’d never forget about you, sugar. Just busy tonight.” I hold out my hand. “Ready?”
She takes it and lets me lead her across the club. It’s early enough that most of the other women are regulars, so she preens as if she’s something special. If she decides to stick around when it gets busy her preening will go back to pouting. She can’t stand competition, but won’t drop the money to buy me off the floor. Not that I want her to anymore.
We reach the VIP room and I lead her to an open spot. Her dances are predictable because that’s how she likes them, which works out for me. Body roll, thrust, hand brushing against her nipple, earlobe bite, and back to more thrusting.
“Oh Diesel, I’ve missed you.”
She moans and licks my neck at the same time.
“I’ve missed you, too. Want to see how much?”
She nods and I take her hand, letting her cup my package. Her hand slips into my shorts and I let her stroke my dick until I start to get hard. She’s never bought a private session with me, so she has no idea how big I am. Maybe I’ll let her see tonight. Maybe that will be enough to get the tips rolling in again.
I thrust against her hand and make my own sound of approval. But then her hand goes limp and she pulls away.
“What’s wrong, sugar?”
I rub my nose against hers and let our lips brush.
“I…”
She doesn’t finish. Instead, she pulls out the money for the dance and hands it to me.
Without waiting, she rushes from the VIP room. I follow her, but she’s already going through the front door.
“What the fuck?”
One of the guys dancing on a side table by the door smirks at me. Great. I’m sure this incident will spread and I’ll hear about it from my boss. One of the big rules at Bangers is to keep the customers happy.
Running my hands through my hair, I head to the bar. Might as well chill until I’m up on stage. I’m almost there when Mario stops me.
“Your ex is here, asking for a dance.”
Maybe this night won’t be shit after all. We broke up on good terms, which is actually possible when you’ve both found new people to fuck. I spot her light locks with pink streaks across the room. She sees me, too, and comes over.
I kiss her on the mouth. “What are you doing on this side of the tracks?”
She works at a club in the hip part of town, so our paths rarely cross, which is fine by me.
“I missed my best guy.”
Bullshit.
“Uh oh. Sounds like someone is newly single.”
I call it like I see it.
She slaps my arm. “Dick.” A second later, “But you’re right.”
I knew it.
“Tell me how I can help.”
I wiggle my eyebrows, already knowing.
“I want a private dance.”
I hold out my hand at the same time Mario comes up.
“There’s a divorce party coming in at midnight and you were specifically requested.”
I nod. “Understood.” To my ex I say, “Let’s go, sugar.”
We reach my room and I unlock the door. This is the first time she’s been here since the owner painted all the rooms black. He was going for a ‘seductive’ look. To me – it’s cheesy.
She looks around and says, “Whoa. You’re one step away from a dungeon in here.”
We were always on the same page and some things never change.
“You know how much I like whips and chains.”
/>
Her eyes are bright. “Oh, I know. In fact, that’s why I’m here. I’ve been a bad girl.”
I wouldn’t call myself a Dom, but I dabble in bondage here and there. But tonight she needs to be told what to do and role-play a little.
“Get naked. Now.”
She unzips the romper she’s wearing and lets it slide down her slim frame. I go to the chest at the foot of the bed and pick out a riding crop. I tap it against my thigh.
“So, you’ve been a bad girl? Tell Daddy how bad you’ve been.”
She’s always gotten off on Daddy/baby play. It’s not my thing, but since she’s paying I’ll go along with it.
“So bad, Daddy. I let my coworker finger me and I liked it. I need to be spanked.”
I run the tip of the crop against her nipples.
“Oh, baby, you know that’s against the rules. Now show Daddy how bad you’ve been.”
She hops onto the bed and opens her legs. She’s already wet, which doesn’t surprise me. I, on the other hand, am going to need some help if she wants to fuck.
She touches herself and moans. Okay. This is getting better.
“See, Daddy? See how bad I am? I can’t stop breaking the rules and now I’m touching myself even though you haven’t said I could.”
“Yes, Daddy sees.”
She toys with her clit and slides her fingers through her folds. My dick twitches and I reach into my fullback, stroking my length. She watches me, eyes darkening in lust.
“Oh, Daddy, see how wet you make me? I’m dripping.”
She pulls her finger back to prove her point. I grunt as I pump my dick faster.
“I see, baby. You’re just a filthy slut, aren’t you?”
She pants as she thrusts against her hand. “I am, Daddy. I like it when you watch.”
“Does my baby just want me to watch or does she want my cock?”
Her tits shake as she comes, my words sending her over the edge.
“Oh, Daddy. I didn’t mean to come before you said I could.”
“You bad girl.”
I stop jacking off and swat her thigh with the crop.
“Daddy! Please don’t!”
I swat her again, knowing it only stings a little.
“You were a bad girl. You got off while my cock is still hard. What are you going to do about it?”
She climbs off the bed and kneels in front of me. My dick is freed a moment later and she takes me into her mouth. This is one area she’s always been talented in. Her head moves back and forth and I groan. God. Damn.
When my balls tighten, I wrap my hand around her ponytail.
“Baby, if you want Daddy to fuck you tonight then you need to stop. Otherwise I’m going to come in your mouth. But, I bet my little cum-whore likes that idea.”
Her cheeks hollow as she takes me deeper. I urge her on until I shoot my load into her mouth. Her throat contracts around my cock as she swallows every last drop. When I’m done, I pull out and some semen dribbles down her chin.
I glance at my watch. Shit. It’s almost time for the party to arrive. She saves me from awkward good-byes knowing I’m busy. She reaches down and grabs her romper, slipping in on.
“Diesel, you always know how to make me feel good.”
I reach out, wiping her chin. “Ditto.”
She grabs my digit and slips it into her mouth. “I’ll see you around.”
“Maybe. Depends if you earn it.”
She pouts, but I know she’ll be back again. We leave my room and she pays me before we reach the main floor. We part ways and I head backstage. Sometimes my job is the best.
Chapter 2
Ridge and Rod are looking at next weeks schedule when I go backstage.
“This is getting fucking old,” Rod mutters.
Ridge agrees, which is rare. “This new manager has got to go.” He turns to me. “We’re supposed to work a bridal show next week. What sense does that make?”
Brides aren’t generally our biggest customer base.
Rod smirks. “From what I hear bachelorettes like it here.”
He’s talking about the woman Ridge is banging. I can’t help but laugh.
“That different.” Ridge crosses his arms.
“Sure.” Rod chuckles as he walks away.
“It is different.”
For some reason I don’t doubt him. Ever since she came into the club he’s been… happier. And he hasn’t been fighting others for the private gigs.
I shrug. “Whatever man. You know Rod loves getting under your skin.”
“Yeah. Prick.” He glances at me. “How’s the ex?”
Word travels fast around the club.
“She’s single. Wanted me to boss her around a bit. She’s one that appreciates a little power play.”
“Think she wants to get back together?”
I groan. “I hope not. It’s exhausting being with someone whose kink isn’t mine.”
“Wouldn’t know anything about that, but I’ll take your word.”
I roll my eyes and head to the showers. Though we didn’t have sex, I still want to wash away her scent from my body. Ridge tosses me a water bottle when I join him at the lockers a few moments later.
“Mario said the divorce party is running late. Wants you to do your skit before they get here.”
I nod. “Better grab the vest.”
My most popular routine is the called ‘sexy special agent’. I basically wear a black tactical vest and generic camouflage pants. The main appeal is that I spin around on a rope that hangs from the ceiling. It took a while to get the hang of, but it’s pretty fun.
Ridge texts on his phone while I change and the dude can’t hide his shit-eating grin. Must be nice to end up with the girl of your dreams.
I shake my head and go to the curtains, waiting for Rod to get off. His crowd is decent tonight, which is surprising. Lately he’s been struggling to get cash, relying on the hot seat to have a big group cheering her on to get his money.
He finishes, but looks pissed as he walks past me.
“Someone is throwing fake money.”
I glance at the pile of money being gathered. Sure enough I see several fake bills, like from a popular board game, in the mix. Shit. Sometimes women think they’re being funny or cute when they do things like that. What they don’t understand is this is our job. If they mess with our money we don’t get paid.
The stage is finally cleared and the lights dim. I’m one of the few guys who won’t use a hot seat. I don’t want to sound cocky – but – I don’t need a hot seat to draw women to the stage. My name alone is enough.
The song cues. It’s slow and seductive. It screams sex. I like it. Women love it. Everyone wins. I step onto the stage and they scream. It. Never. Gets. Old.
I smile as I saunter toward the rope hanging from the ceiling. It puts me in the center of the stage so when I spin I won’t hit anyone. I grab the rope with one hand and do a slow thrust before I start spinning. Each move is calculated and matches the tempo of the music. The lights flash and everything is a blur.
I pause long enough to strip out of the vest. An eager woman near the stage helps me tear away my camouflage pants and then I’m back to the rope, spinning and dancing.
And then I see a woman in the audience that takes my breath away. She’s standing away from the stage with her hands clasped together. A nervous gesture. I should know. I saw it often in the past. Usually right before she gave me detention.
Ms. Fucking Bliss.
I catch the look of shock on her pretty face. She definitely recognizes me. Good.
I spin on the rope again and the women near the stage gasp as I twirl past them. Some reach out and their hands scrape against my skin. Others toss money into the air and it falls around me. When I come to a stop I seductively thrust against the air and catch her gaze. I drop to the floor and hump the stage while pushing myself closer to the crowd at the same time.
The money rains down on me and I can’t he
lp but grin. This is the life.
My skit comes to an end and I wave before walking offstage. I don’t see Ms. Bliss. I have a few minutes before I’m needed at the divorce party. Should I say hello to her or wait?
Mario comes up to me. “You need to shower. Your group is here and waiting for entertainment.”
Well, that takes care of that dilemma. I jump into an empty shower stall and wash off. When I step out I bump into Rod, who is grabbing an ice pack from the freezer.
“How much ended up being fake?”
He shrugs. “Maybe twenty. Mario knows and is looking for the woman.”
I feel bad for the dude.
“Want to help out with a party?”
“What kind?”
“Divorce.”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Not my thing. I like ‘em younger than that.”
For being one of the oldest guys around he really does gravitate toward the young girls. Makes me wonder what kind of issues he has. I shudder at the thought.
I put on a fullback and spray cologne before heading to the main floor. I’m all smiles as I enter the VIP area.
“Hello my lovely ladies.”
The women literally sigh. I’ve been told I’m a pretty boy, so I get this kind of reaction a lot.
An older woman in her fifties motions me over. “You’re just what I need tonight!”
Laughing, I say, “Who is the beautiful lady who is now single and ready to mingle?”
First rule of any party: find the guest of honor and make her feel like a fucking princess. Otherwise it’ll affect your money. She’ll get pissed and then her friends will get angry, too.
The older woman replies, “That would be Heavenly. She’s in the bathroom. Never could handle her liquor.”
Interesting name.
“Well, we should all take a shot while we wait for her to return.”
The more the ladies drink the more money will flow throughout the club. They all cheer and we take a shot together. As we drink it’s hard not to notice the large age variety amongst the women.