Enforcer's Price

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Enforcer's Price Page 15

by Sarah Hawthorne


  “That’s just it—I’m done with blow jobs and dances.” I wiped at the mud of makeup now caked to my cheeks. “I would be cheating on him.”

  Turning a trick with another guy felt like cheating on Colt. Or maybe I felt like I was just betraying the memory of what we had together? Both, probably. I was betraying him and me. Like somehow every time I had sex from this point forward, I would compare it to that night and die just a little.

  I had just experienced grown-up sex for the first time in my life. It’s crazy to think that you can be a virgin and a hooker, but I was. I’d never felt that level of lust, arousal, whatever before. My pussy had fucking wept all over my couch so that I could still smell it when I sat down. I realized something: I’d never really had an orgasm before that night. Yeah, I’d gotten off, but a life-changing, earth-shattering orgasm? Colt was my first.

  I pulled myself together and headed for the bathroom. I needed to get cleaned up—a group of businessmen had just walked in and they would want their drinks. I may not be able to give blow jobs, but I could sling beers and martinis.

  After taking their orders, I went back behind the bar to start mixing.

  “So, things must not have worked out with your man. I mean, if you’re working here and all.” Asia, the hooker Colt had fucked under my nose, was right next to me, overpouring a whiskey sour for one of her regulars.

  I handed her a jigger. “He’s never been my man.”

  She shrugged. “I think he is. He couldn’t get it up, ya know? He blamed it on too much whiskey, but it was his head. He was thinking about you. Anyway, he let me crash in his bed.”

  I put a lime garnish on my vodka soda and looked at her. The same tangled brown hair, pinched nose. What was her angle? God, I hoped she was lying, because if she was telling the truth, it would hurt more.

  “Why are you saying this?”

  “Look, you don’t have to believe me, but I thought you’d like to know. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? He paid me a lot to keep it quiet.”

  Asia grabbed her tray and went back over to her table. One man, suit jacket, tie. He smiled up at her as she set down his drink. It was affectionate, almost intimate the way they looked at each other. Was Asia acting? Was she just using him or did she really love him? It was impossible to tell.

  I loaded my drinks onto a tray and went back to my table. Time to make some tips.

  Chapter Thirty

  Colt

  The strip joint’s parking lot was gonna kill my damn tires. Potholes filled with gallons of rain and huge chunks of gravel were surefire ways to pop holes in your tread. Damn. The asphalt wasn’t the only thing in disrepair. The neon sign was missing a few letters—Jiges or something. It was your typical squat, windowless building.

  I hung my helmet on the handlebars. The last place I wanted to be was surrounded by a bunch of strippers. Thanks to my time with Krista, I would always be wondering which one of them had kids at home, or who was really trying to make it through school. Krista made me see so much more.

  All I wanted to do tonight was find her and give her back her money. Unfortunately, I had nowhere to look. After shaking down Robby, I rode straight over to her place. She wasn’t home. Figuring she was still at the club, I went there. Nothing. I waited for her at the bar until Skeeter found me. He called up Rip and Russ and the three of them dragged me to the strip joint.

  “Hurry up, man, the ladies ain’t gonna wait all night.” Skeeter grinned.

  I parked my bike with the other guys and we headed inside. Fake red velvet carpeting was everywhere—the floor, the walls. The parts of the walls that weren’t carpeted had dark, smoky mirrors.

  Skeeter, Rip, Russ and I sat down at a table and ordered a round of whiskey. There were three stages, but two were dark. I guess Tuesdays weren’t exactly popular nights. The lights darkened and a redhead in a massive beehive wig and glasses walked out on the stage. The DJ turned on something from Motown and she started to do her walk about the pole. The woman was hot, there was no denying it, but the only one I wanted was Krista. I needed some air.

  I leaned over to get up, but a heavy hand on my shoulder held me in place.

  “Hi, boys. Any special requests this evening? I aim to please.”

  A thin blonde woman pulled up a chair and sat down next to me. She wore a short blue sequined dress. The neckline dropped so low that I was surprised her belly button didn’t show. She was a little older than most strippers I’d met, but somehow her age didn’t mar her beauty.

  She tossed her blond hair over one shoulder. “So, Skeeter, why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”

  Skeeter squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable that she had outed him as a regular, but he made the introductions. The woman was Janice. She had to be the one who called Tate on my first night here. Krista’s neighbor.

  Janice trailed a finger down my neck. “See anything you like?”

  She looked over to a dark booth with three college students. A waitress serving drinks bent over so far her tits almost fell out of her lace-up top. Holy shit. I recognized those breasts, those amazing, bouncy breasts. The waitress was Krista.

  She laughed and flirted with the group of kids. Her top threatened to give way every time she dipped to serve a drink. I wanted to grab her drink tray and bash every one of the bastards over the head, and then maybe cover her up in a big, thick blanket.

  “I thought you might like her.” Janice’s voice was hot against my ear, and she moved her palm from my chest down to my crotch.

  When she closed her fingers around my cock, I protested, “Move your hand.”

  I couldn’t believe I was telling a woman to stop grabbing my dick, but I was hard from watching Krista work. Her gorgeous ass swung from side to side as she went back for another round.

  Janice moved to the chair next to me and rubbed my dick again. “You know, she only serves. Nothing in the champagne room, but for you, I can ask her if she wants to make an exception.”

  My options were limited. I could meet her at her apartment after work, but that required a lot of willpower not to drag her back into bed. Or I could wait until she got off work and talk to her in a back alley. Compared to my immediate choices, the back room of a strip club didn’t sound so bad. At least there would be no haunting memories from the time before, when I had been a colossal asshole.

  “You want her natural, baby? Or do you have a deep, dark fantasy?”

  “My only fantasy is for you to get your hand off my cock, lady.” I moved her hand away and tore my eyes off Krista. “Look, I just want to talk to her, in private. Okay? Nothing else.”

  Janice grinned. She was a predator, a jaguar in the jungle, and I was the baby monkey with an injured leg. Easy pickings.

  Hips swinging, Janice strutted across the dance floor and whispered something in Krista’s ear. They disappeared behind a curtain in the back. I wondered if I should follow or wait for them to return. There were a couple nasty-looking bouncers at the door and I figured they wouldn’t take kindly to me following the girls behind a curtain, so I stayed put.

  The guys ordered a round of lap dances, and three girls came over and started their grind jobs. I sat with my eyes fixed on the backstage door, waiting for either Krista or the jaguar to come back.

  “You want me to bring two doubles this time, baby?” The waitress was asking about my drink. Shit, how many did I drink already? Nerves always made me lose track.

  “No more whiskey, okay? Just some water.”

  She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. No one ever ordered water at strip clubs.

  What the hell was going on backstage? I downed two bottles of water before the jaguar came back.

  “She’ll do a private dance in room two.” She grinned, showing off a perfect set of manflesh-eating teeth. “Why don’t you come with me?”
/>   Janice settled me in a small room lined with the red carpet. There was a big chair in the middle. Lots of armrests and knobs for the girls to hold on to while they danced. Shit.

  A huge bouncer stood by the door. He wasn’t tall, but he was wide, his skin dark brown. We sized each other up. The best time of his life was when he played ball in high school, defensive line, probably. He looked tough, but he’d gone soft since his glory days and wouldn’t be much help if a girl actually got attacked. One hit to the knees to put him on the ground and a hold around his neck to cut off what little airflow he had was all it would take. I nodded to him respectfully to let him know I wouldn’t be trouble, and I sat in the chair.

  Someone whispered in the hall. It was like two people were trying to have an argument at low decibels. Then, the door opened and Krista was pushed through. She whispered something that sounded a lot like “fuck you” to the person in the hall, but then she turned back and faced me.

  All expression drained from her face as she recognized me. Damn. This was a very bad idea.

  “Look, you don’t need to give me a lap dance.” I held up both of my hands. “I’m just here to talk.” I stood up from the chair. It was seemed wrong to tell my girl I was sorry while sitting in a lap dance throne.

  The bouncer took a few steps away from his post by the door. “This room ain’t for conversation. No dance, no room. If she ain’t gonna dance, then you gotta go back out on the floor.”

  Krista looked between the two of us and put her hand on the black guy’s arm. “Okay, I’ll give him a dance. Can you just wait outside, Danny?”

  The bouncer shook his head. “You know the rules.”

  Danny the washed-up linebacker watching my girl give me a dance in the club where she worked was my own definition of hell.

  “No.” I moved toward the door, careful not to touch her. I didn’t want bad blood with Danny. “I’ll just talk to you after your shift. Okay?”

  Krista grabbed my cut as I headed toward the door. “Look, I’m sure what you have to say won’t take long. And, well, I’m not very good at this. So let’s just make it fast, okay?”

  She gave me a little push back toward the chair. I knew this was going to go bad, I fucking knew it, but I needed to talk to her. I sat.

  She stood in front of me and rubbed her hands up and down her body. As far as stripper moves go, it was pretty tame. But Krista had a fantastic body and, well, it was Krista. My hard-on was back with a vengeance. I tried desperately to remember why I was there.

  “You had something to say?” She stopped rubbing and looked at me. I was supposed to be talking.

  “Um, right. I wanted to say I’m sorry for the other day.”

  She had changed outfits and wasn’t wearing her bustier anymore. Now she had on a black dress, but with the fancy old-fashioned thigh highs with back seams. Placing one foot right in front of my crotch, she leaned over and started to roll one of her stockings down. She caressed her own leg as she went. I wondered if it turned her on.

  “You’d better start talking or this comes to an end real fast.” She whispered it, but I could hear her anger.

  I swallowed. Shit. Her nipples were peeking over the neckline of her dress.

  “I’m sorry I treated you like shit when I found out you were a hooker and you didn’t deserve it.”

  She stepped back and straightened, as if she needed to put distance between us. That was the last thing I wanted. I reached out and touched her hand.

  Danny’s voice boomed in the background. “Hands. First warning.”

  Shit. I dropped her hand and grabbed the armrest, trying to show that I was complying.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Danny settled on his stool and nodded to Krista. “Finish this up.”

  She put a knee on either side of my hips. Fuck. She was so close, if I leaned in, I could kiss her. I’d never seen her so intense, staring at me with big, scared eyes. I kept my hands in check and she started to grind. Slowly, she slid her black dress up and over her head until there was nothing between us but her black thong.

  Her pussy slid against my cock and my brain started to short-circuit. I couldn’t get sidetracked. I had to tell her.

  “Once I heard that you were a whore, I had blinders on. I didn’t see anything else except the job. You’re more than that. You’re a good person and a good mom. I was a big fucking asshole and I’m sorry as hell.”

  She leaned over and I felt her wet cheek against mine. “Thank you.”

  Then she slid against my dick and I nearly lost myself. If we kept going like this, the bouncer was gonna haul me out. I had to end this. I was here to talk and that was it.

  I raised my hands and touched her hips. Just a light caress, but it was enough.

  The lights came on and the whole world changed.

  Krista straightened and stepped away. She tugged her dress back into place. “Is that all you have to say?”

  Her makeup was smeared; black tracks ran down her cheeks.

  I reached out to wipe away her tears. There was a lot more to say. I love you. This is crazy, we just met a few days ago, but I think I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

  I opened my mouth to say it all, but Danny grabbed Krista’s arm. “No touching. This is over.”

  Danny escorted Krista out of the room and locked the door. He left me to cool my heels in the god-awful lap dance room while I pounded on the door. “Let me out!”

  After a few minutes, the bouncer came back and apologized. “Sorry, man. I gotta let the girls go backstage first before letting you out. Make sure you don’t grab her in the hall and shit.” He shrugged.

  Then he hustled me out the back door to the parking lot. I was glad to be out of there. The cold air was sharp in my lungs after the stifling room I was locked in.

  Two uniformed officers stepped out of the darkness, walking straight toward me. Shit. I put my hands out in front of me to show that I had no weapons, but one cop grabbed my shoulder and slammed me into the side of the building. They had me spread eagle and handcuffed in less than ten seconds.

  “The elusive Berdoo,” one of them growled as he stuffed me into the squad car that was parked in the shadows. “We’ve been looking for you for a while. Seems you assaulted a man in an apartment complex a few days ago. Funny, someone from Demon Horde shows up in our town and an innocent person gets hurt.”

  Fuck. Robby.

  I wanted to say something, defend myself. But I had been arrested enough times to know that would get me nowhere. Best to keep your mouth shut and let your lawyer do the talking.

  * * *

  I cooperated through booking and fingerprinting. Pacing the holding cell, I barely thought about the bullshit assault charge. I needed to get to Krista, needed to tell her I loved her. I had done a shit-ass job of it tonight. I couldn’t even get the words out.

  The more I paced, the smaller the cell became. I could feel the sweat sliding down between my shoulder blades. I needed to talk to Krista. Too many times I had said the wrong thing, or not said anything at all. She had to be waiting for me and I wasn’t gonna fucking show up.

  I’d lost track of time, but it was well past lunch when a man walked up to my cell. He wore a rumpled shirt and a cheap tie. Either a public defender or a plainclothes cop of some kind. He said nothing, just waited until the corridor was clear.

  “I got a call from Tate.” He took out a set of keys. Cop then, not a lawyer. “Lucky they put you on this side where nothing is electronic yet.”

  I crossed over to door and waited for him to open it. “Do I owe you anything?”

  The man shook his head. “Naw, Tate took care of it. Look, I got the charges dropped, but California is going to be notified that you were up here. You probably got a few days before they process the paperwork, but leaving the state i
s a parole violation.”

  Shit. I nodded. At least I was out.

  I needed to find Krista.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Krista

  Colt apologized last night, and it was nice to hear. But there was no discussion of a future. No dates or dinner. There wasn’t even a “see ya later.” I stayed up half the night at my apartment, waiting for him to come by, but he didn’t. All night long, I imagined promises, flowers, romantic kisses. Around six in the morning, I gave up and went to bed. The dream was over.

  I needed money fast, and waitressing at Jiggles wouldn’t get me the kind of cash I needed in time to pay my landlord. I needed a big influx of cash, now. I sighed. There was only one way to do that—turning tricks.

  I dropped Becky at Señora Lopez’s apartment and headed over to the club.

  After three hours of walking around in my damn high heels, I was tired and still broke. I’d slutted up in my white bustier, platform shoes and little nurse’s cap, but not a single guy had grabbed my ass all evening. Damn. No one wanted to hire me. It’s hard not to notice when an entire room full of men gives you the cold shoulder. I’m sure they all thought Colt would bust things up and they would end up with a nice case of blue balls just like Russ did.

  I decided to take a break, check my makeup and get out of these shoes for a minute. I trudged up the stairs in my heels. Once the guys were in chapel, I would head over to Jiggles. Maybe my slumlord would accept a partial payment instead of throwing me out completely.

  “Hey.” Rip nodded to me in the hall.

  I smiled. “Hi, Rip.” I traced a finger down his chest. “You want a date tonight?”

  Rip’s eyes widened. “What? Are you kidding?” He looked downstairs and back up at me. “Holy shit, Krista. Did you ask any of the guys downstairs if they wanted a date?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. It’s my job and I need to make rent.”

  Rip grabbed my arm. “They all turned you down because you belong to Colt.”

 

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