by Savannah May
The meathead at the door like a sentry at a tomb, barely glances at me. Pegging me as just a normal older guy looking for some excitement. He must get bored. I grit my teeth wondering whether he's seen Dusty Rose naked. If he's laid his fat grimy fucking fingers on her tiny body. I almost wanna punch the guy on the nose just thinking about it. No one gets to touch my baby.
It takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the gloom inside the club, along with the stink of old alcohol ingrained in the wooden floor and the flattened carpeting around the stage. The place is more crowded than I'd expected for such a dump and I have to take a table away from the stage.
Probably a lucky call. I don't want Dusty Rose to clock me, watching her strip. But the girl hanging off the pole isn't Dusty Rose although she is gorgeous. No wonder the joint is packed if the talent is all like her. Big round tits and an ass any guy would give up everything to gets his palms around. Any guy except me that is.
There's no one that entices me now, not since Dusty Rose. I guess lying in a cot for almost two years thinking of the same woman day in and day out, will do that to a man. Never seeing her, not so much as hearing a word of how she is only ramped up the longing.
Chapter SIX
Dusty Rose
I see him the instant he walks in. It's like my eyes are drawn directly over the heads of the seated crowd of jerks to land straight on him. His body exerts some powerful magnetic pull over mine. My heart lifts off and refuses to come back down to land, fluttering and jumping in my throat. Sitting there like a cork blocking my breath. He suctioned all the air out of the murky, sweaty club as soon as he arrived. The room feels way too small to contain him.
I put my tray down and cling to the edge of the bar, feeling the prickles of heat shudder through me like an orgasm across my skin. Once that calms down, I'm still breathing way too fast and the throbbing between my legs is intolerable.
It doesn't help that my pussy is barely covered by the small panties we're required to wear. Every time we waitresses lean over to put down a drink, we're flashing ass to all the club patrons. Now that narrow strip of fabric is drenched and wadded between my lips.
“You okay, Star?” Tony asks, examining me from the other side of the bar.
“Fine,” I nod too vigorously. “Bit dizzy.”
“You got that right,” Tony laughs and gets back to pouring.
I peek out at the man exerting a suction force on every cell in my body then whip around again to face the bar. Turning away and shaking the strange silver hair across the side of my face as Killian scans the room like a radar.
He looks like he's come here to kill someone. His face set hard as rock, his diamond-cut jaw flexing with rage. I wonder if he's here to exact some hard revenge on me. I get it. He's got every right to be outraged after what I did. It was my actions that got him sent to jail.
One word from me and it could have been different. But I let people think what they wanted and wrecked his life because he loved me too much. If I could go back and do everything all differently, I would in a flash. But I can't and I'm paying the price. Not as costly as his penalty, but still so damn painful it takes all my concentration just to get out of bed and through the hours of the day.
Surely Killian must understand I was younger then. He needs to know how much I was hurting from love for him and him refusing to make me his. It still smarts like a burn on my skin.
Because if he loved me, nothing in the world could have come between us. He allowed stupid reasons to keep us apart and we've both suffered in agony because of it.
I'm still panting in little breaths, trying to get control of the whirlwind flying through my tummy, my head, my heart at Killian being here. He can only be here for me. To tell me what a horrible little brat I am.
I risk another glance over my shoulder and he's seated at a table now. One of the only ones still remaining. It's packed in here tonight, like always. And he's not in my section. My heart lurches as Vick sashays up to him. I resent her big tits now. Her mature womanly curves turn every man to mush.
“Hi there. I'm Vick and I'll serve you this evening.”
My heart stabs again as I see her lips move and hear the line we're all required to utter, with a provocative little wiggle, in my head.
Killian responds without giving her any attention. Like he's ordering in any old sports bar and I'm so freaking grateful he didn't eyefuck her or douse her big tits in an appreciative grin.
She wends her way back over here to place her orders with Tony. I dash up to her side and tug her arm, more desperate than I've been since Killian was taken away from me.
“Vick, let me have table eight,” I beg. “You can take my jock group. That's ten swapped for one.”
“Good eye,” she laughs. “You can spot a wealthy man across a crowded room. Sorry, Hon, but this one's drinking Scotch single malt and he's the type to spend not save.”
“I know, I know. You can have all his tips as well. I just want to talk to him.”
Her gaze flicks to me, questioning my angle.
“Please Vick. It's really, really important.”
“Sure Hon. Why not? But you hand over all the bills.”
“Of course. Every last dime.”
“You can keep the change,” she cackles as she plunks the tumbler of Scotch on my tray and waddles away to deliver the beers to her other tables.
I can hardly walk across the room to his table, my legs are shaking like it's my first day on a tightrope. Every step closer makes me quiver with impossible need of every variety.
I note how he's leaner now although even more solidly ripped with muscle that makes my craving for one little touch ignite every pore. His hair is thicker, not as perfectly groomed by his top-notch barber. The stubble on his face is rougher, sending twitches through my throbbing clit. And his eyes, his eyes are full of emotion with a few more lines at the corners than before.
He's still the most gorgeous man I've ever set eyes on. And the urge to fall on my knees in front of him changes from to beg for forgiveness, to something way more sinful.
I arrive at the table and he doesn't look up. I'm an invisible server. Or he's assuming I'm Vick. His eyes snap to Carmen, the dancer arriving for her set on stage. A flare of possessiveness hits my tummy and I step between him and the girl riding down a fireman's pole and place his drink on the edge of the table.
I'm so close to him, my hips are inches from his face. My leg brushes his solid thigh and I leave it there. Then I ramp up the pressure and almost collapse into his lap from his rock hard muscle pressing into me. I want him everywhere.
His hands all over me, his carved body pinning me down. He doesn't notice my attempts. Or if he does he's ignoring me. It incites a riot of memories in me. How he doesn't desire my body. How he refuses to give me what I need. And the need right now is so fucking bad.
I shift around him, so I'm standing with his knee between my legs, my inner thigh squeezed into his thick bolt of muscle. Cracks of lightning fly up to my core. If I dropped down just a tiny bit, I'd be riding my aching clit along his thigh.
I clamp his leg between mine and he looks up then, his eyes traveling up my body. Very slowly, taking in every little bit of me. I'm sure he's about to say, 'No thanks, kid'.
“Dusty Rose,” he groans, recognition pouring through his limbs before his gaze ever reaches my face.
I do it then. I put my hand on his shoulder and sink down to sit straddled across his outstretched knee. My stretched pussy spasms as soon as I connect with his hard muscular thigh and a bunch of convulsions fly through me that almost make me slump against his solid torso.
He looks at me in shock, disbelief and something else. Then his eyes travel back down my body to my almost bare tits, the transparent fabric of the bra top in no way disguising the agonized nipple points prodding through. Killian gazing on them only makes them stick out more vividly and he tears his eyes away to find mine.
“Baby,” he grits out.
Chapter
SEVEN
Killian
I look around the dump and I want to beat the living crap out of every last motherfucker in here. All the overfed douches who've been staring at my baby while I've been locked up. Unable to take care of her and protect her from their eyefuck feeding frenzy.
“I'm here to serve you tonight,” the waitress says to me, like she's clearly said it a million times before.
It kills me to imagine Dusty Rose saying those words to some fucker. Her honey dulcet rasp giving him ideas of her raw throat ramming around his wood. The girl's wearing a bra top that in no way covers her heavy big tits and when she flips around to head to the bar, her little skirt flares up giving me a full view of her ass cheeks and more.
Jesus fuck, is Dusty Rose here?
At least the girl humping her hole against the pole on the stage isn't her. But is my baby sashaying around this dump so every ugly loser gets to strip her five nights a week for the price of a beer?
I refuse to believe it. There's no way she'd be in a shit hole like this and if she is, I'm taking her out. She deserves to be a little queen reigning over her own beautiful palace and her king that adores her. Not a slave to desperate slimebag vermin for the sake of a couple dollars.
The thigh that wrapped around mine gave me a jolt of recognition. Not the shape of it which had changed, elongated and lost a little flesh although still softly curved. I was in denial. And checking out the girl walking on stage, ready to get up there and carry her out if it turned out it was my baby. The way Dusty Rose pressed her soft flesh against my rigid muscle gave her away, the insistent pressure, her demands that I take notice.
I did.
I fucking couldn’t have stopped from staring at her perfect little body if my life depended on it. Which in many ways it does. Prison is no life at all. Not when the lives of people I love go to shit because I'm locked away.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I bite, with my jaw flexed into a painful clench.
Dusty Rose is slowly rotating her hips on my leg so that I reflexively glance down and am treated to a view of her pussy lips wrapping around a string thong, glistening and pink, demanding my attention.
“Dusty Rose, get off me. You know you can't be doing this.”
“Says who? I'm doing my job. Didn't you come to see me dance?”
“I came to find you and get you out of here?”
“Why? It's a respectable living.”
A tree trunk of man-flesh walks up close to us and gives Dusty Rose an intimidating glare. I want to get up and thrash the bastard even though he's built like a tank. She immediately starts grinding on my thigh harder and he walks away satisfied. I feel the heat of her pussy lips through my pants and it makes me insane with need to pull them apart and finally taste her.
The music comes to a stop for a change of dancers on stage.
“Give me some money,” Dusty Rose demands.
“What? Fuck. How much do you need?”
“No, I mean tip me. Hurry up.”
“For fucks sake, Dusty Rose.”
This feels so wrong but I do as she says and reach into my pocket for my money clip, pull out a hundred dollar bill and hand it to her.
She makes a face, eyes wide like; 'Puh-lease. Don't pretend you don't know how this works.'
Her eyes swipe over to the bouncer, standing at the bar with his gaze burning into us.
I place the bill under her bra strap, at the center point of her cleavage, being very careful not to brush her gorgeous tits with my knuckles. Because if I get anywhere close to touching her silky skin I'm going to lose it. I have to look down to slip the Benj under the band and can't miss the hard rosy little buds tightening and protruding through the almost transparent fabric.
She smiles with pleasure, at my generosity I assume, removes the Benji and conceals it fuck knows where before reaching behind her back. She tugs at some fastening and the small cups encasing her perfect tits fall away and the beautiful perky hard mounds tumble naked in front of me.
“Oh Jesus, Dusty Rose,” I groan.
I am about to dump my fucking load in my pants. My balls are on fire with the need to spread her legs and ram into her pussy.
“I know, Daddy,” she mewls softly. “At last. After such a long time.”
“Don't fucking call me that. I'm not your Daddy.”
She laughs lightly and undulates up my thighs so her pussy point grazes across the swell of my dick, bulging furiously at my pants zipper. A small patch of glistening juice remains on the dark fabric, a reminder of her consuming desire for me.
“You have to stop this now.”
I'm losing my resolve with every roll of her perfect little clit on my muscle. Her tits lift and bob as she moves in a provocative flow across my thigh and I'm certain I'm going to blow like a fucking geyser, just looking at her.
I drag my eyes away and glare at the fat bastard at the next table watching her tits sway as she writhes. If Dusty Rose wasn't sitting on me, I'd be over there to give him a fucking bitch slap.
“Look at me,” she orders. Forcing my eyes to snap back to her. “I'll get in trouble if you don't watch me like you're enjoying me.”
“Are you fucking kidding? This is insane Dusty Rose.”
“Shhh, it's Star. Why don't you stroke my pussy?”
“Oh fuck.”
“I'm so wet for you, Killian. Wetter than I've ever been, after such a long time apart.”
“Dusty Rose, I came to get you out of here. Why aren't you in school?”
“Bitch kicked me out of the house and refused to pay the fees.”
“That's my fucking house,” I bark. “And she had access to my money. I wanted to pay for your education.”
“Can we stop talking about fucking school. We're way past that now. I want you to touch me. Please. Unless you're mad at me still.”
“I was never mad at you.”
“Then touch me. It's perfectly legal now.”
“It's not. It's still wrong.” Not to mention I'd be sent back down.
I want to fuck her pussy so bad my heart is tearing like a jackhammer. I want to open her soft thighs and finally see her wet pink folds, dripping with her juices for me. I don't think I can withhold the crazy force barreling from my balls through my solid stick.
She smiles like she knows what I'm going through, loving every moment of my torment like always. Holding my eyes pinned to hers, she pinches her hard pink nipple. Her gaze challenges me.
Invites me.
Commands me.
My head is craning toward her, inciting me to lick her tight little pink buds and tug them between my lips.
“Dusty Rose,” I croak out.
“Star,” she repeats.
“Fuck, Star, I can't.”
She arches her back so her tits lift and grazes her beautiful little point across my lips. I have to purse my mouth tight to avoid the intense desire to part them and suck her into my mouth. “I can go back to jail just by being within a hundred yards of you.”
“Not now. I'm all grown up, see?”
The bouncer passes by and glares at us again. We've set off alarm bells with all the chat I guess. Men don't come to strip clubs to talk. And anyway my voice is raw and hoarse.
“Dusty Rose, I'm taking you out of here right now.”
Chapter EIGHT
Dusty Rose
I desperate to get off shift and leave the club. I'm positive Killian will be out there somewhere. Waiting for me. His face looked like he was ready to kill me and I get it. It was probably the last thing he expected to discover me working at a strip club. To have to pay to sit and chat with me, like we used to do for hours.
Well, maybe not quite like the old days. When I would twirl a lock of hair and rest my little hand on his forearm to keep his eyes fixed on me. Now I have to grind on his lap and shake my tits at him. It was the most amazing three minutes of my life and I'm drooling to do it again.
I need more. His hands all over me. His lips aro
und my nipples, sucking the flesh into his hot mouth.
“Your customers need drinks, Star.”
Nero, the club's biggest bouncer stood at Killian's shoulder, staring down at me with a filthy look on his face. It was the first time I bared my tits for a man in the club so he was getting a good eyefuck for free while ordering me around. Asshole. Lucky he was standing behind Killian, otherwise the fury I could feel running through my step-dad’s amazing solid body might have unleashed on him.
Killian stayed until closing. I felt his eyes burning into me constantly as I moved between my tables. He never took his gaze off me and I loved it, finally having my man where I've always wanted him. He had zero interest in the naked woman on the stage or the other, more mature girls with better bodies, experienced at blowing men.
All he can see is me. I don't even bother to wipe the goop off my face or pull on some jeans to cover up my bare thighs. I'm shaking, literally shivering all over with anticipation. We'll go home to his place and finally I'll have him buried inside my pussy, his huge body covering me, holding me under him.
I leave the club to find where he's waiting. He may punish me for all I’ve put him through. I wouldn’t blame him. But I know he would never do it. Killian could never intentionally harm me in any way.
If he can only hear my reasons. I've grown up so much since he went away and I want to explain to him. He has to understand that and give me forgiveness. I'm panting with excitement to see him even though its only been half an hour since the club closed.
I rushed through my clean up chores while my body quivered with lust for his face that close to me again, to hear his raspy voice, the sexiest in the whole world. It still makes me wet just thinking about that raw needy tone coming out of his full lips.
He's not outside the door or anywhere in the parking lot. I dash across to my car looking this way and that but I don’t see him or his Porsche at all. The bolt of disappointment in my chest is terrible.
He's walked out on me again. When I need to see him more than I need to breathe. I have to speak to him and explain. It's the one thing I want in my life. The only thing that can give me any peace.