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Worthy (Challenge Series, #3)

Page 7

by Kiru Taye


  “So what do you think we should do?”

  “If he wants to pay for your time, then he’s going to have to book both of us at the same time.”

  Tessa’s eyes widened. Doubling up on a gig wasn’t a new thing for them. Some clients wanted to have two girls so they worked together. And the fact that they were friends with benefits made it all the more easier as the men loved watching them make out together.

  But in those occasions the clients usually suggested two of them. They didn’t impose it on the client as Anuli was suggesting.

  “Are you sure? What if he doesn’t want both of us?”

  “Then he can go jump. But I think he’ll agree especially if he wants you as much as I think he does.” Anuli grinned. “And we can double our money while we’re at it too.”

  “One hundred grand? You think he’ll pay that?”

  “He’s loaded, isn’t he?” Anuli tugged her arm. “Come on. Let’s get in there and get to work.”

  Tessa followed her in to the dimly lit club with the strobe lights flashing over the dance floor and music pumping out of hidden speakers.

  There was no point dwelling on what Anuli was suggesting. Tessa didn’t think Peter would be here anyway. The description of the man by the bouncer didn’t sound like him. And Peter had said that night clubs weren’t his thing. He wouldn’t be here two weekends in a row.

  But even as she scanned the space, her heart thumped hard against her chest in anticipation. She wanted to see Peter again.

  Chapter Eight

  Peter sat on a black leather armchair in a darkened corner that didn’t have any direct light but provided a vantage point to see most of the spacious area of the club. The place wasn’t jam-packed yet. From up here in the VIP mezzanine, he overlooked the entrance.

  Every time someone walked in, his heart rate kicked up a notch as his gaze flicked to the swinging door.

  What was he doing here? The question had been on his mind since he arrived. He didn’t have business in the city this weekend.

  Still at lunchtime, he’d informed his chauffeur to prepare for a trip down to PHC. On arrival at his suite, he’d showered, dressed and ordered dinner.

  While waiting for the food, he’d fielded a call from his mother who’d asked if he could come over this weekend. He’d explained he wasn’t in Enugu and would be back late on Sunday. She’d been happy to wait until next weekend to catch up with him.

  After eating the meal of locally caught giant shrimps and salad, he headed out to Xtasy.

  Senses heightened, his actions seemed borne of compulsion, bordering on obsession. He couldn’t seem to get Tessa out of his mind. Couldn’t quench the need to see her again. To finish what they’d started last weekend right here in this club.

  The moment she arrived, the hairs on his neck stood erect even as his gaze riveted to the long-limbed girl who sashayed into the venue behind another smaller one. The whoosh, whoosh sound of blood in his ears drowned the music. His breath trapped in his lungs.

  She’d come back here.

  He became aware of the strong, rapid beat of his heart. His chest burned, acid corroding his gut.

  She’d come back here in search of men. To sell her body to whomever would pay for minutes, hours or nights with her.

  His fingertips dug into the smooth leather on the padded arm of the chair. Why was he bothered about what she’d come to do?

  He remembered last weekend and the way they’d moved on the dance floor, everything else forgotten, the rest of the world lost to them. It had been ages since he’d connected to anyone—Naaza—in that intimate way.

  The last time he’d dreamt about his late fiancée, she’d urged him to live again. To move on and have fun. The brief moment with Tessa last Friday had been fun. He wanted the connection again.

  The urge had made him drive the almost four-hour trip from Enugu to Port Harcourt City. To see Tessa. To do more than look at her.

  He wanted to touch and taste. To savour and indulge. To evoke and sate.

  Still, a part of him, the sensible part that had been prominent for the past five years warned that he shouldn’t have come. Reminded him of why she was here. Her job.

  Did he really want to get involved with a hooker? A woman with no emotional investment in the act of love-making.

  Every time he’d had sex in the past, he’d poured all of himself into the act of seeking and giving pleasure, mind, body and soul. He’d never held any part of himself back.

  Of course, he’d been in love with the woman with whom he’d shared those intimate moments.

  Could he indulge, without giving his all, without getting emotionally entangled? He’d always been an all or nothing kind of man. In business. With family. With friends. It was partly the reason he’d never sought casual sex before.

  Now staring at Tessa as she manoeuvred around the crowd of revellers, he wondered if he could keep sex between them as just fun. Of course, if he paid for her time...

  Hell! He groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face.

  Did he really want to go there? Pay for her services? What other option was there aside from carrying her caveman-style out of the club and locking her away in his suite?

  Perhaps he should just go back to the hotel and forget this madness.

  What? Leave her for other men? Hell, no! His body tensed and he gritted his teeth as anger lanced through him. He wouldn’t leave this venue without her, one way or the other.

  The muscles around his eyes bunched as heat flushed his face. Leaning forward he grabbed the glass and lifted it to his lips, swallowing down the cool lemonade. He’d chosen the soft drink although most people around him drank alcoholic beverages. But he needed a clear head tonight. He needed to be in control.

  Now, he couldn’t be certain he’d made the right choice. If he was going to sit here and watch Tessa all night he’d need something stronger to dull the emotions she roused within him.

  The tumbler made a dull thump on the wooden surface of the table as he abandoned it and strode to the reinforced transparent glass balustrade so he could get a better view as the two girls walked over to the seating area. They found available seats and settled on them. Tessa’s friend, Anuli—he assumed her to be the same one from last Friday—sashayed towards the bar.

  Peter used the opportunity to observe Tessa.

  Sitting, her short black dress rode up, exposing chocolate thighs and clinging to every dip and swell of her body. The black platform heels she wore made her legs stretch for miles. With dark smoky eye-shadow and deep red lipstick, the length of wavy black hair reaching her hip completed the vampy look.

  She certainly knew had to dress for maximum effect. Every man in the vicinity stared at her.

  Burning sensation spread across his chest and his stomach hardened as his muscles tightened.

  A man in a navy slacks and pink t-shirt with D&G blazoned across the chest approached Tessa. She smiled up at him and invited him to take a seat beside her when she waved her hand to the chair. Soon they were laughing and chatting when the other girl joined them.

  After a while Tessa and the man moved to the dance floor. They started off at a sensible distance but before long the man pulled her close and she was swinging her hips and bumping her butt against his groin to the rhythm of the music.

  Her eyes were closed and Peter wondered what she was picturing. Was she remembering the way they’d danced? A week ago he’d been the one holding her, his crotch nestled against her cushiony bum.

  His cock pulsed to life. Was he really going to stand here and watch her seduce another man in the lead up to having sex?

  Before he could decide, Tessa opened her eyes and looked up in his direction.

  Her eyes widened as their gazes met and he could swear she gasped with the way her luscious lips parted. She stopped moving. The man behind her leaned forward and whispered in her ear. She said something to the man but she didn’t break eye contact with Peter.

  Peter knew he sported a
n intense sullen expression but he couldn't help it. The woman drove him nuts.

  She stood there, staring at him for a few seconds with bulging eyes and open mouth. Was she pleased to see him? He couldn't tell, not from her shocked expression.

  Now that she’d seen him, he expected her to move away from the man holding onto her waist.

  Instead she resumed dancing, while still maintaining her stare on Peter. She wound her hips, rubbing up against the pink t-shirt man who had a big grin on his face and his hands on her hips.

  Fire lit in Peter’s gut, filling him with possessiveness that made his hands clench around the metal pole of the balustrade.

  Tessa taunted him, her intent written all over her face. The way her right eyebrow arched and her lips tilted in a lopsided smirk dared him to do his worst.

  His rational mind told him to ignore her provocation. The green-eyed monster burning across his chest wouldn’t hear the advice.

  Hands in his trouser pockets, he strode across the floor, headed down the broad, winding staircase. He took slow, deliberate steps, keeping his gaze on Tessa, making her wait. His purpose meant to keep her unbalanced and unsure of what he would do next.

  Just before he reached the bottom of the stairs, her moves faltered as if she’d stumbled and she broke eye contact.

  Good. She wasn’t unaffected by his presence.

  Hiding his grin, he kept his face expressionless as he headed in the direction of the dance floor.

  The erratic flash and dim of the strobe lighting made her fade in and out of view. But he knew exactly where she stood as he swerved around the other ravers, making a beeline for Tessa.

  It seemed she’d lost sight of him as she glanced around the space, searching for him, lines appearing on her forehead. The guy behind her had his eyes closed as he rubbed up against her.

  Peter stopped about a foot from Tessa. Her startled gaze fell on him.

  For seconds it seemed everyone else got dimmed and frozen out. They stared at each other, separated by smoky, electrified air.

  Her chest heaved as she breathed fast. Her lips parted and she swiped the bottom one with her tongue.

  His breath hitched. He wanted to lick her, to dip inside her mouth and taste all she had to offer. The base of his spine tingled, his arousal spiking. He took a step, demolishing her personal space.

  “Tessa, come with me,” his voice sounded husky.

  Her eyes narrowed and she tilted her chin up. “As you can see I’m dancing with someone else. You can wait your turn until I’m done with him.”

  She pulled her lips in a saccharin smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Hey, man,” the guy behind her shouted, suddenly awakened to the situation. “Go away. She’s dancing with me.”

  Something inside Peter snapped. A growl rumbled in his chest as his nose flared. His teeth clenched tight making his jaw ache.

  “Get your filthy hands off my girl,” Peter gritted out as he leaned close to the man, injecting menace into his words. “Unless you want to get locked up for soliciting.”

  His breathing came fast as he balled his hands into fists. One thing attending an all-male boarding school taught him was how to brawl. Actually he would attribute that macho skill to Michael. Still, Peter wasn’t afraid of getting his knuckles bloody if necessary.

  The man’s eyes widened and he stepped back, letting go of Tessa. “I didn’t know.”

  Peter used the opportunity and dragged Tessa towards the exit. He pushed through the door leading to the corridor with the bathrooms on one end and the front entrance on the other. The slab swung shut behind them muting the noise of the club.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Peter?” Tessa glared as she tugged her hand free. “You’re messing up my night.”

  He crowded her to the wall, caging her with his arms. “I haven’t even started. How much is he paying to debase you?”

  Flinching, she sucked in a sharp breath.

  Okay. Low blow. But her telling him to ‘wait his turn’ brought out his possessive nature. If he had to drag her out of here kicking and screaming, he would. To hell with playing Mr Nice Guy.

  He didn’t fucking share his woman.

  His woman?

  The notion had him rearing back, giving her space as he rubbed a palm over his face. What the fuck? When did that happen?

  She lifted her chin again and her voice sharpened. “It’s none of your business, Peter. Go to blazes. You don’t own me.”

  “Oh, I do, Tessa.” He took a step towards her. She didn’t back away. “I’ve owned you since last Friday. Right here, in this corridor, I bought you.”

  She opened her mouth. “You—”

  He cut her off. “But I know you. Your transactions involve cash, so I’ll pay for you, your way.”

  She flinched as if he’d slapped her. “What? You want to pay for my time?”

  “Yes.” If this constituted what it took for her to stop coming to this godforsaken club as a call girl, he’d do it.

  Her amber eyes flared with heat. “You can’t afford me.”

  He ignored her insult and inhaled a steady breath. Calm settled over him. He was a business man. Everyone and everything had a price. Including him. His price was simply different from Tessa’s.

  Her price was financial, a commodity he was happy to trade in.

  He held her unwavering gaze. “One Million Naira.”

  “Chicken shit. Not even close.” She turned around and headed for the door leading into the club, her shoes clicking on the hard flooring.

  “Five Million,” he said in a quiet voice that would carry to her. He’d expected the first offer to be rejected. This was Nigeria. Everyone haggled.

  Palms flat on the door, she froze.

  Gotcha! His heart thumped hard at the prospect of her accepting his bid. His hands trembled and he shoved them into his pockets. It had been a long while since he did anything this spontaneous.

  After several seconds, she swivelled and faced him, frown lines on her forehead.

  “Are you drunk? Did you take drugs? This isn’t the Peter Oranye I met last week who walked away from me because I mentioned my job. And yet here you are, willing to pay such a large amount of money for me. I thought you don’t like call girls.”

  “I have nothing against call girls. I just don’t use them.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, I want you.” He waved a hand at her. “And the only way it seems I can have you is to pay for you. You’re selling your body and I’m buying it. A simple arrangement. This way I make sure no one else touches you.”

  She angled her body away and her brow wrinkled. “Why the hell do you care about who touches me? It’s my body.”

  “I want to be the only man who touches you!” The confession spilled out of him.

  It seemed to soften her up and a slow smile curled her lips. She sashayed to him, her hips swaying with each seductive step she took.

  “Well, sir. For Five Million Naira you can touch me as much as you want,” she said in a low sultry tone as she pressed her right hand on his chest just above his heart. “You have a deal.”

  Fuck. She’d agreed to his offer. Adrenaline rushed through him and he became breathless. Finally he would have her to himself. In his penthouse. In his bed.

  She dragged a fingertip down his chest. Even through the silk fabric of his shirt, she burned him, branded his skin. Her lips lifted in a genuine, tantalising smile, as if she she’d just won a tug of war between them. He supposed it had been a battle of sorts.

  “How about we get started?” She grabbed his hand and pulled him through a door.

  It wasn’t until they were inside and he saw the mirror on the wall and the sinks that he realised it was a restroom.

  She shoved him against the wall and went down.

  He grabbed her arms and tugged her up, keeping her a few inches from him. He twisted so they swapped places, Tessa with her back to the wall. “What do you think you’re doing?” />
  She stood stock-still, staring him straight in the eyes. “I’m doing my job. You’re paying a lot of money for my time, so I’m getting started.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have permission to touch me.”

  Her pulse became frantic and skittish where he gripped her wrists. She gave him that look filled with pure temptation.

  “Hang on a minute. You’re not going to play the same thing you did last weekend. If you’re buying my time, I’m working. I presume you’re not married or have a girlfriend. You’re too honest to cheat.” She frowned. “Unless, you’re gay.”

  His jaw tightened. “I’m not gay. I just don’t believe I have to stick my dick into every woman that comes along.”

  She gasped at his words and glared at him. “Well, it’s as well then, isn’t it? Because you probably wouldn’t know what to do with your dick if a woman fell on it?”

  His restraint snapped and his grip on her arm tightened. “What did you say?”

  Tilting her chin up, she glared at him and stood still. But she must have seen something on his face as she licked her lips. “You know exactly what I said?”

  This woman pushed his buttons, turned him from a level-headed man into a feral Neanderthal.

  “You think I don’t know how to use my cock because I haven’t fucked you yet?” He leaned close, making her back flatten against the wall.

  His lips grazed her ear. She shivered and moistened her lip with her tongue. “I...I...” She couldn’t seem to form a word. Her throat rippled as she swallowed.

  “Do you think because I’ve been celibate for a while, that I don’t know how to fuck you?” His voice came out gravelly low, just above a whisper.

  “Do you think I can’t make you come? That I can’t make this beautiful body of yours clench and writhe and beg for me?”

  She gasped and her trembling became more pronounced. “You—you’re just bluffing. No man has ever made me come.”

  He leaned back and tilted his head. “I hear you, Tessa and you should know I’m not a man who walks away from problems.” He leaned close again and whispered against her ear, making sure to blow warm air on her skin. “So challenge accepted.”

 

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