She purses her lips. “How so?”
Shrugging, I reach for her eyelash and secure it in place. “I don’t know, like, I guess I was expecting some crazy explosion of emotions, you know?” I finish and she blinks a few times, then smiles.
“Kayla, you’ve always kept your feelings close to the chest.” She shrugs. “It’s just what works for you.” She licks her lips and shakes her head. “And maybe it’s that it’s time to move on and you’re less conflicted because you know that on some level. You feel this. Or, you will, when you’re ready. Especially the part where you’re moving away from me. That shit’s going to hurt like hell.”
I laugh and place my hands on her shoulders. “I’m definitely going to miss you.”
She leans forward and kisses me, then pulls back. “Don’t make me cry, babe.”
Scarlet stands and I follow, then we both pull our wigs on. Mine is tall and impossibly white like chalk, and hers is long and straight and black as night. We’re complete opposites right now, in contrasting colors; devil and angel.
We step up the stairs and stand behind the black curtain. As the speakers start spilling the opening bars of an amazing old nineties song by a band no one but me and like, five other people have heard of, I lift up my colossal hoop skirt and Scar wiggles between my legs. She play-bites my inner thigh and almost gets a stiletto to the face.
I let the skirt fall back down and settle around my feet, swishing it back and forth as we get ready to walk out onto the stage together. She’s positioned so her face is practically smooshed into my ass crack, her hands gripping each leg tightly right above the knee, and as I take one slow step, she follows immediately, so we move as one unit. I’m sure if you removed the ruffled skirt, there’s nothing about this that’s graceful, but the audience is none the wiser. We look like one person as we step onto the stage.
For this routine, since I’m walking in five inch heels with a fully grown woman between my legs, the curtains open up before us and Des steps up beside me to help me walk out. She’s dressed as a colonial soldier, complete with her long braids tucked up into a hat.
The crowd roars when the spotlights find us at the back of the stage.
Des holds my hand up in the air and we slowly make our way to the center of the stage, then she releases me and bows before exiting.
I spread my white lace fan open and wave it toward myself, then slowly take a few more steps, smiling and winking at the crowd, bending over gracefully to give them ample view of my chest and the way it spills out of the top of my corset.
And they eat it up, following my every move.
For this routine, I sell them grace and beauty, simplicity in my sexuality; Scar’s part brings the sex. Raw, and dark, and borderline terrifying.
When we’ve reached the point in the song when the second vocalist begins the darker lyrics, I strip off my white corset, then reach down and slowly lift up the edge of my skirt. Scar emerges, looking like a sex demon in all that black, crawling across the floor like she’s ready to suck the life force out of everyone in the audience, and those in the crowd who have seen this act before cheer right along with those who have not. Because this routine is a freaking hit.
She eventually makes her way back to me, then undresses me until I’m in nothing but a tiny white thong, and we finish the song together, dancing along the edges of the stage. She gets a little more touchy feely with me than usual, and I let her, giving both my hyper sexual best friend and our hungry audience one amazing final routine.
When the music stops and Scar releases my breasts, my nipples throb in the absence of her fingers. She looks down at them, then up at me, smiling wickedly.
“Careful, babe, I might think you’re finally into girls,” she yells over the sound of the crowd.
She might be an actual sex demon.
Laughing, I shake my head, then grab her hand so we can take a bow.
Confetti and balloons burst from the ceiling and, one by one, the other girls make their way to the stage. Some have more balloons in their hands, while some carry bouquets of flowers. The telltale pop of a bottle of champagne opening only precedes the spray of bubbly by a split second. As Des douses us in champagne, Scar leans forward to lap at my chest... always looking for more ways to thrill the audience.
The DJ announces one last time that this is my final night, and as he thanks me on behalf of management and staff for my loyalty and all the work I’ve put into this club, Scar throws her arms around me in a tight embrace. The rest of the girls follow until we’re one big mess of arms and bodies and so much love.
Tears well in my eyes and I laugh as it finally hits me. I wasn’t feeling anything earlier because I wasn’t allowing myself to. I’m going to miss the hell out of this family I’ve created, and pretending that didn’t hurt was easier than acknowledging how very much I’ve come to love this place and these people.
Chapter Ten
Atlas
She collapses in a heap of just-fucked euphoria beneath me, so I slowly climb back and put my feet on the floor, then admire her ass while I slide the rubber off my cock. There’s a puddle of wetness beneath her on the bed. I smile, looking her over. My fingertips left faint red marks in each hip; my mouth left the faint mark of teeth in her shoulder.
No wonder Dave was excited when he realized she was working tonight. He knew I’d be all over this chick.
And I was.
But now it’s time for her to go.
I grab a t-shirt from the pile on the floor and clean myself off, then climb up the bed and thank that sweet ass with a quick squeeze and a kiss on each cheek. If I keep my hands on this thing too long, I’ll have to fuck her all over again, and frankly, I’m ready to get out of this room.
I jump off the bed and head for the shower to rinse off. “I’ll make sure Dave gets the money for that extra bit you threw in there.” I shut the door and turn on the shower. Anal is always extra and not something I usually do.
But what can I say? Gotta give the ladies what they want.
Beg for.
Regardless, I’m done with the hired help for the day.
She knocks on the door just as I step behind the glass. I ignore her and stand beneath the stream of hot water. She’ll get the hint.
“Atlas.” Her voice is not coming from the other side of the door.
My eyes fly open. Does she know who the fuck I am? You don’t just walk into my bathroom without an invitation. I bring my head forward and stare her down.
But she doesn’t even flinch.
She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow, then steps into the long shower, stopping about three feet away. The steam coils up around her legs, and I follow its ascent, settling my gaze on her pussy. I neglected that thing, didn’t I?
I should be mad at her audacity, but her body was made for fucking, and she knows it.
I think she also knows that I’m just the guy for the job.
“My ride won’t be here for another twenty minutes at least.” She takes a step forward, then turns to sit on the tiled bench that sticks out from the wall. She holds my gaze as she turns toward me, spreading her legs wide. I reach for the shampoo and start washing my hair—fuck the fact that I did this just over an hour ago; I want to prolong this show as long as possible and if that means washing my hair twice, so be it.
She slides her fingers up and down over her lips, then slowly plunges two fingers inside. My dick starts to swell in response. She massages her breasts as she finger-fucks herself, holding my gaze the whole time.
I rinse the shampoo from my hair, then reach down with a sudsy hand and grab onto my cock. Her eyes follow my hand, fluttering closed as I start to stroke myself.
She opens her eyes again and watches me stroke my hard cock, fingering herself faster and harder, her mouth open slightly on breaths that grow more ragged as the moments tick by. Watching each other masturbate is great and all, but I already know how hungry she is for my cock, so I walk toward her. She slides her fingers
out of her pussy, then sucks the juices from them before wrapping her hand around my cock and guiding it into her mouth.
She takes the whole thing once again, ignoring the way her body wants to gag and pushing through it to take me deeper. She grips my ass with her hands, and I grip her head as I fuck her face.
I don’t usually let them taste me, but I’m going to finish in her mouth.
My leg twitches and my knees start to weaken and as I tense, I grip her head and hold it still so I can shoot my load down her fucking throat. She moans, sucking it down, and I pump one final time to get it all out, then pull my dick from her mouth and swipe my thumb across her lips. Watching the movement of her throat as she swallows my load, I nod toward her pussy. “Now you.”
She grins, then adjusts herself so she’s spread open for me, but I shake my head.
“I just want to watch.”
She frowns, but obeys, rubbing her fingers over her clit. My dick starts to rise again as I watch her strum her clit. It starts to swell beneath her fingers and I almost break my own rule. Dave’s girls are cleaner than most, but I don’t taste the goods.
When I can take it no longer, I kneel on the shower floor in front of her and slide two fingers inside her swollen hole, pumping hard and fast as I lean forward and pull her tit into my mouth. She grips my hair with one hand, massaging her clit with the other, harder, faster, quicker. As her pussy starts to clench around my fingers, I reach my other hand up to massage the tit in my mouth, then suck her nipple hard, grazing it with my teeth. I curl my fingers inside her and she screams out in pleasurable pain, convulsing around my hand in an orgasm that might have just rocked the entire hotel.
And fuck me, man, because my dick is hard again and I don’t think I’ll ever get out of this goddamn hotel room tonight.
She finally opens her eyes, looking at me lazily before looking down at my cock.
A wicked grin pulls at her lips, then she reaches for me, stroking me with one hand as she massages my balls with the other. “We’re going to be here all night, if we keep taking turns like this.”
Okay, so, maybe I’m not quite done with the hired help for the day.
I haven’t come all over her tits yet.
Chapter Eleven
Kayla
There’s a party bus waiting for us when we leave the club. Because of course there is.
I look at Scarlet and raise my eyebrows. “This is your idea of low-key?”
She smiles, nodding. “Babe, there is nothing low-key about a DUI.”
“Jesus, Scar, they do have Ubers and taxis here, you know.” I shake my head and follow her to the bus. There’s no point in arguing now.
Des, Staci, and Lexi are already on the bus. When I step inside, Des hands me a glass of champagne.
I look at it warily, then glance at the seemingly unlimited supply in the built-in coolers on either side of the bus. I look back at Des, eyebrows raised.
She smiles sheepishly. “I know, girl, you don’t drink,” she says, but still pushes the glass toward me. Very contradicting.
Scarlet steps into the bus behind me, then grabs the flute from Des and presses it into my hand. She meets my gaze, a determined glint in her eyes. “Drink. Relax. You promised, remember?”
Inhaling a deep breath, I nod, then take a sip of bubbly. “You two are really good at peer pressure.”
“Thank you.” Scar thanks me like I just paid her a compliment.
I tip the glass back and drink the champagne down in one long gulp.
“Yay! There’s my girl!” Scar jumps up and down, then moves to the back of the bus to join Brandon. He’s brought a few friends with him, but thankfully, no sign of Chad. I’m probably judging him a bit too harshly, but whatever. Not like I’ll ever see the guy again anyway.
When we’ve all loaded in, there are twelve of us total. Me, Scar, Brandon, three of his friends, Des, Staci, Lexi... and a few other girls from the club whose actual real names I don’t even know. Brandon’s friends already have girls on their laps. Hopefully this means that I’m in the clear and haven’t likely been promised to anyone.
Scar means well, but—
“Kayla!” She shouts from the back. “Come sit with me.” She climbs onto Brandon’s lap, then pats the tiny space between him and one of his friends. I finish my glass of champagne and move to stand, but Des grabs my empty flute and fills it before I can protest.
She grins innocently and I shake my head.
The bus driver lurches out onto Paradise Road, and when we hit a bump, I lose my balance, toppling forward into Brandon’s friend’s lap.
Bus – 1. Kayla – 0.
Everyone scrambles to help me up, and Des chastises our driver up front. My just-filled champagne flute is empty, and I’m now covered in bubbly.
What a way to start the night.
Shaking my head, I freeze when Scarlet leans forward, pulls my sweater down, and proceeds to lap the champagne from my cleavage. Everyone cheers and I know I’m in for a wild ride tonight.
She looks up and wipes her lips, looking at me through her eyelashes. “You better start drinking, babe.” She leans forward so she can whisper. “It will make me molesting you all night a whole lot more tolerable.” She laughs, bounces my boob with her fingertips, then sits back down on Brandon’s lap.
His friend stands and offers me a stack of cocktail napkins. “You okay?”
I meet his gaze and smile. “Yes, thanks.”
“Okay, everyone,” Destiny calls, “we have twenty minutes until we reach our first stop of the night—”
There are multiple stops? I bite back a groan.
“—so if y’all could move to the sides of the bus, I’d like my girl Kincaid to sit right there in the center.” She points to the very middle of the back of the bus, where Scarlet is making out with Brandon.
The music stops.
Des clears her throat loudly. “Excuse me, Miss Scarlet?” One hand on her hip and the other on the stereo’s volume control, Des stares pointedly at Scarlet and Brandon, who eventually catch on and stop kissing long enough to relocate to the seats along the side, then resume making out. “Okay then. Kayla, darling, have a seat.” She motions toward the back of the bus. “And can someone fill my girl’s glass up, or what?”
Staci jumps up to retrieve a bottle of bubbly, then fills my glass and sits back down with her girlfriends and Brandon’s two friends. It would appear that Brandon and Scar have one whole side of the bus to themselves.
“Now,” Des begins, pulling my attention back to the front of the bus, “I’ve been in this industry for a long time, and I’ll tell you what, it isn’t often that someone comes into an audition and leaves such a... lasting impression.”
All the girls cheer, except me.
No, I groan, shaking my head as I cover my face with my hands. I should have known my friends would make sure my last night is just as ridiculous as my first. I look up at Destiny through my fingers.
She winks at me, then messes with the stereo until the most strippery song of all stripper songs starts blasting through the speakers.
Everyone cheers again, basking in my humiliation.
“What did Kayla bring to her audition, you guys?”
“Her mama’s mix tape!” Lexi yells.
I shoot her a glare and she sticks out her tongue.
When I handed the DJ my CD that night and he outright laughed, I should have known. I should have walked away and never looked back.
“That’s right, everyone, our girl here auditioned with a classic.” She strolls back to me, stepping out of her pencil skirt so she’s in nothing but a thong and a tight little crop top. “She walked in there thinking she’d picked the one and only song they’d never seen anyone dance to before.” Des stops in front of me, her lips twitching on a smile, then turns around and places a hand on each knee, spreading my legs so she can dance between them. She rubs her butt back and forth in my lap a few times, then looks over her shoulder at me. “She brought
them the most popular song from the year she was born.”
Everyone laughs, and I just shake my head. I can’t help it. I’ve always loved the nineties. My mom made sure of that.
“So there she goes,” Des continues. “Climbing up on that stage like she’s about to give them the show of their lives.” She turns toward me, brushing her breasts in my face. “And what did they do?”
I bark out a laugh and hang my head. “They turned off the music.”
“What? We can’t hear you.”
I look up and shake my head at her. “You suck.”
Des laughs, then presses her breasts against my face. “They turned off the music.” She leans back so I can breathe again. “And then what?” She stands, throwing her leg up on the seat and continuing her lap dance.
“They told me to come back when I had something they hadn’t seen seven times a day for the past fifteen years.”
“That’s right!” She laughs. “Mama’s mixtape!”
My girlfriends all whoop and holler, laughing it up like they haven’t all heard this story a thousand times. I just shake my head, laughing. Maybe this will be the final time we all get a good laugh on my behalf. Trent Reznor’s voice breaks through the cheers, and Des whispers along to the words, telling me how she’d like to ‘fuck me like an animal’.
What? It’s a classic.
And to be clear, my mom did not listen to Nine Inch Nails. She’s more of a Jewel fan.
Des finishes the song on the pole—no one works a pole like Destiny—coming close to landing a kick in one of Brandon’s friend’s faces, then slides down into the splits at my feet.
“The end of this story is the best part.” The music fades to silence and Des looks around, making sure everyone’s paying attention. “When Kayla flipped off the manager and told him he’d be lucky if anyone ever fucked him like an animal, she earned herself a spot on our stage, and rightfully so.”
Everyone laughs, and I join in, thinking back to that first horribly awkward day. Collette had gotten me the introduction, even though I’d never danced a day in my life, and I’d blown it all to hell with what was apparently the most clichéd song I could have picked, and a big ‘fuck you’ to the boss.
Claiming Atlas (Completely Rocked Book 1) Page 5