End of the Innocence

by Alessandra Torre

  ♦♦♦

  Six years later, and she was still checking her phone for his damn call. The irony was not lost on her, and she slammed the locker door shut with more vigor than was necessary. She used to think it was fated, her leaving the escort game to go into stripping, her journey ending at this club, Saffire’s gold-encrusted elegance that would later become the property of Brad De Luca. Now, with the club ownership change, it seemed like a cruel joke from whoever was upstairs, life a jerky puppeteer game that had contorted her directly into the hands of Miss Virtuous. She envisioned the young brunette deftly manipulating the puppeteer handles, and her face twisted in anger.

  Chapter 23

  We pulled up to Saffire, the door opened by a muscular bouncer with a welcoming smile. “Ma’am.” He nodded, extending his hand and helping me from the car. Brad appeared and shook his hand, his appearance causing the man’s grin to widen exponentially.

  “Mr. D. Good to see you, sir. Janine is inside, should I radio her?”

  “No, we’ll find her. Good to see you, John.” He clapped the man on the back, and we made our way through the doors, stepping into the dark club.

  Janine found us, striding up with quick efficiency before we even passed through the lobby. She gave Brad a warm hug and turned to me with a smile, extending a hand and shaking mine with a firm grip.

  “Brad’s told me a lot about you. Welcome. Would you like a tour?”

  I nodded, glancing at Brad, who softly placed a hand on my back, assuring me of his presence. Then we moved, Janine starting a steady dialogue that wouldn’t pause for forty-five minutes.

  ♥♥♥

  Alexis watched them move, a tight group of three, the girl’s assets displayed in a dress that screamed expensive. She was softer than Alexis, her chest still natural, a delicate look to her frame. But she had the ass, and that had always been Brad’s weakness. She watched with narrowed eyes as the threesome stepped through the backstage doors, disappearing from view. A rough hand on her back had her looking down, into the needy eyes of the businessman she straddled. Smiling down, she ground against his crotch, her need for approval stronger now, more than ever.

  ♥♥♥

  I liked Janine. She was businesslike to the point of being unfriendly, skipping over any fun facts on the tour and rattling off figures, percentages, and problems, a mix of pride and concern in her words. We ended the tour in an upper-level VIP room, seated at a private alcove that looked down upon the club. Janine killed power to a small video camera that looked into the space, and we sat down around a cocktail table.

  “When will the changeover take place?” she asked, leaning forward and meeting both of our eyes.

  “I’ve already transferred the stock certificates. Scott Burge, an attorney from my firm, will send over an operating agreement for you to sign. You should receive that this week. Once that is complete, I will be completely out.”

  She glanced at me guardedly, hesitating before speaking. “Julia, I’ve never been very good with tact, so I’ll come right out with this. Brad and Evelyn have left me alone, occasionally visiting the club and having monthly conference calls to discuss finances. I’m not used to having a boss, and that isn’t something I am particularly interested in.”

  Brad started to speak, and I silenced him, touching his arm lightly. “I plan on having the same level of involvement as Brad. I am not familiar with Saffire and have little to no experience in the business world. Brad says you are an excellent operator, and I trust his judgment. Assuming we continue or improve the current level of revenue, I see no reason to get involved in your business.”

  Her features relaxed noticeably. “I would appreciate that. Do you have any other questions I can answer while you are here?”

  I couldn’t think of anything she had missed during the last hour. I shook my head and glanced at Brad to see if he had any thoughts.

  He leaned forward, speaking, “I think we’re good, Janine. I’ll join in on the call next week with Julia, so we can touch base then. Look for that package from our firm.”

  She nodded, moving quickly to her feet, her eyes already roaming the club. “If that’s all, I’d like to get back downstairs.”

  “We’ll stay here and chat for a bit,” Brad said, throwing an arm over the back of my chair.

  “Just turn back on the security cam when you’re done.” She gave us both smiles and left, moving at a quick pace, speaking into a mouthpiece as she moved.

  I let out a breath, turning to Brad with a smile. “She’s nice.”

  He scoffed. “Did you expect her to be a bitch to her new boss?”

  My mouth turned up slightly. “I thought we just clarified that I’m not her boss.”

  “I never treated her like an employee, despite the majority ownership I held. I’m sure you will follow suit.”

  “You know I will.”

  Then his eyes changed, from friendly to dark, and I knew, before he even lifted a hand, what was coming.

  Chapter 24

  I felt the tug on my chair as Brad pulled me close to him. He captured my face in his hands, his eyes examining my features. “I love you so much,” he murmured, his eyes moving over and focusing on my lips before he tugged me to him, taking ownership of my mouth with a few soft swipes of his tongue. I opened my lips further, deepening the contact, my hands stealing into his hair. I broke the kiss, pushing my chair back and standing, moving closer to him and spreading his knees with my legs. He slid deeper in the chair, reclining back against the soft leather, gazing up at me with a latent dominance of the nothing-but-trouble variety. I grinned playfully down at him, and slid one strap, then the other, of my dress down, dragging the fabric until my bare breasts were exposed, lit softly by the blue-gray lights of the room.

  He groaned softly, a guttural sound, and stared into my eyes, tightening his knees against my legs. “Come here.”

  I shook my head and knelt, running my hands softly up his dress pants, past his muscular thighs, until I reached his belt. He watched me, his eyes darkening and he leaned forward suddenly, snagging my chin and pulling it up, his eyes grabbing me possessively before kissing me hard, a deep kiss that reclaimed his power before he released me, leaning back and watching me.

  “Do you always have to be in control, Mr. De Luca?” I purred the words, unbuckling his belt with one motion, then rubbed my hand over the zipper line, feeling the outline of his cock underneath the fabric, the shape of him hardening under my fingers. He didn’t answer, his eyes locked on mine, dark orbs of sexuality. I suddenly needed to see him, needed to have his bare skin in my hand, to feel the throb of what was mine. I looked away from his eyes, focusing, and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Then, he was in my hand, an impossibly thick, hard shaft, the skin hot beneath my palm. I stroked it, the firm grip eliciting an intake of Brad’s breath.

  “Put it in your mouth.” The order came through in a drugged tone, desire glowing at me from under heavy eyelids.

  I shook my head, increasing the speed of my stroke as I watched him. He frowned slightly, lifting his hips a bit, bringing the nine inches of insanity closer to my face. I spoke, my tone a mixture of dominance and bite. “What is your plan with the girl?”

  He sat up slightly, his eyes opening more, and watching me carefully. “What girl?”

  “The stripper. The one you fucked last time you were here.”

  “I thought that didn’t bother you.”

  I hissed. “It didn’t bother me last time. Things are different now. Are you going to talk to her?”

  “I feel like this is a test of some sort ...” he mumbled. His breath hitched a bit as I squeezed his cock, loving the feel of complete stiffness in my hands. “What is you want, Julia?”

  I ran my tongue lightly, teasingly, over the top of his head, taking it into my mouth for one brief moment before I pulled off, my hands never pausing in their movement, a quick pace that traveled his entire length with every stroke. “I want you to handle it,” I said firmly. �
��I want her to understand that you will never have sex with her again.”

  “Never?” I released him, the sudden departure causing his eyes to open and a frown to settle over his features. “I’m joking. Don’t stop.”

  I resumed my movement, my free hand gathering his heavy balls in my hand, squeezing him softly as I stroked his length with a firm hand.

  “Come here,” he said, sitting up and pulling on my arms.

  “No.” I fixed him with my sternest look, my hand increasing in speed.

  “Julia, come here. I want to talk to you about this without being tongue-tied by your hands on my cock.” He pulled harder, his strong arms lifting me easily onto his lap, despite my best attempt at resistance.

  Sitting on his lap created a new set of problems. Mainly him, standing at attention against my thighs. I sat sideways on his lap and spread my knees slightly, my hand stealing in between my legs to grab him.

  He relented, shifting slightly so I would have better access and turned my face to his. His eyes were troubled, turbulent storms of concern. For her. I tried to squash the irritation that rose within me at that realization. “Julia, you’ve lived a very different life from Alexis. Her relationship with me gives her some financial security.”

  Whoa. I released his cock and spoke quickly, anger vibrating through my voice. “Your relationship?”

  “Don’t get bent out of shape at my choice of words. There are things you need to understand, and if you are going to get worked up, I’m not going to be able to explain it to you.”

  I bit back a retort and waited.

  “Despite your emotionally-distant mother and your tiny college budget, you’ve lived a charmed life compared to Alexis. She’s been on her own since she was seventeen. When I first met her, she was working as a prostitute.” He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his hand stealing behind my neck. “She earns a salary here, one that gives her some semblance of security. She will see our marriage, my departure from her, as an end to that security. She won’t understand that my commitment to you doesn’t mean an abandonment of her. It will take time, will take her seeing the financial stability continuing, with your name on the paychecks, for her to understand and be okay with it.”

  I thought for a moment, trying to organize my thoughts. “I don’t want her to think, if her salary continues, that it is because you have emotional feelings for her.” An unavoidable thought wormed into my mind. “Do you have emotional feelings for her?”

  He hesitated, a reaction that lit a fire in my psyche. He saw the heat in my eyes and raised a hand. “Wait, let me try to communicate this properly.”

  I waited, my mouth set.

  “You know the story my father told you ... about the dog.”

  I nodded silently.

  “I didn’t love that dog. I had played with it one day, and if I had never seen it again, I wouldn’t have had a second thought about it. But I admired its strength, I felt compassion for its struggle. Sex, for Alexis, is nothing. She has no emotional ties to it. We have fucked, throughout the last five years, out of joint enjoyment. What Alexis yearns for, and needs, is security. I feel compassion for Alexis. I care for her in the sense that I want what is best for her. I felt that I couldn’t ignore or stand by when she needed help. I know that she cannot strip forever. I have encouraged her to go to college, had hoped that the small amount she receives in salary will help her to explore other options. You will be my wife; you are my future. I will never jeopardize our relationship in an attempt to comfort Alexis. But please don’t ask me to hurt her. Saffire is yours now. If you want to fire her, or cut off her salary, or sell the club altogether, that is your prerogative. But I don’t believe that you are the type of woman to treat her in that manner. I will speak to her, and make sure she understands that I am forever and exclusively committed to you. But I’d also like to assure her that I still value her as an individual, and that you will support her job at Saffire as long as she wants to work here.”

  I leaned back against his chest, my tension releasing slightly as I processed his words. His hand ran lightly up my thigh, gently, slowly moving toward the silk wisp of fabric that comprised my panties. “Are you trying to distract me, Mr. De Luca?” I breathed, my body tightening in anticipation as his second hand joined in, stealing up my stomach until it hit the exposed skin that was my breasts.

  “Never,” he said, his fingers caressing the silk of my panties, sliding over and over the triangle of fabric, my clit awaking underneath his touch, under the slow, perfect swipes of his fingers. I shifted, tilting my pelvis upward and pushed his hand down, letting out a soft moan when his fingers hit the place where my panties became practically non-existent. He stroked that spot, leaving the thong in place, his thumb strumming a steady rhythm over my clit as his fingers stroked my wetness. I moaned again, pushing on his hand, waiting, needing more. My eyes found his cock, heavy and thick against my leg, and I panted at the sight of glistening moisture at its hard tip.

  “You’re not going to get this subject to go away with sex,” I mumbled, as my mind threw out all reasonable thought processes and prepared to fully enter De Luca worship mode.

  “I believe,” he whispered in my ear, “that you were the one who brought sex into this conversation.”

  Then his finger moved, a strong motion that pushed aside my thong and thrust into my sex. I gasped, throwing back my head and pushed greedily down on his hand. A second finger joined the first, and they moved in perfect succession, fully inside and crooking inside of me, delicious swipes that had my eyes rolling back in ecstatic delirium. I reached out my hands, gripping his legs and squeezing, needing some type of grounding solidity to bring me back to reason.

  His arms held me still, one wrapped around my pelvis and ending at the wet burial between my legs, the other holding my back tightly against his chest, the forearm hard against my stomach, the hand traveling from breast to breast, squeezing, teasing, and worshipping my tender skin.

  I was coming, my core contracting around his fingers, my body arching against him. “Brad,” I gasped, “I need ...”

  He knew what I needed, and tightened his arms, holding me still, his upper hand turning whisper soft on my nipples as he increased the magic of his lower hand, his fingers taking me over the this-can’t-be-fucking-happening mountain, and I fell, in a beautiful, free cascade, a full-body explosion of perfection that had me screaming his name, my words disappearing in the loud club music, my screams turning to moans, until I finally settled on a bed of Brad, my body spent and drunk against his, his fingers maintaining movement inside of me, taking me to a perfect, delirious ending until I collapsed.

  Chapter 25

  We stayed in that moment, his fingers inside of me, my body heavy on his for a minute. Then, his hands and arms moved, my body curling as they brought me into a fetal position sideways in his lap. I leaned my head back against his arm, my eyes closed and mouth curving into a smile, loving the strength and security in his grip.

  I didn’t, couldn’t, begrudge any woman who wanted Brad. I wanted him for everything—his strength, his weakness, his sexuality, his humor, his ego, his temper, and his security. Maybe she didn’t want him. Maybe she gave two shits what Brad De Luca did with his life, maybe she just wanted the salary she got from Saffire, Inc. But I couldn’t imagine any woman having, enjoying, and spending any amount of time with Brad and not being head over heels. It was impossible.

  I understood what Brad was asking of me. But he was a man. He didn’t realize. Everything he told me about her, her struggle, her life—he had intended the words to endear me to her. But they had only made me more wary. For as much as any woman wanted a man, they wanted a Prince Charming even more. For me, Brad was my soul mate. For her, he was a new life wrapped in that love. A way out of her current one.

  He didn’t want to be cruel. But what is crueler? A slow, painful extinguishing of hope? Or truth—that bitch of life who smacks you into reality?

  I knew what I’d want. A q
uick rip of the Band-Aid, Brad to look square in my face, and to explain reality. Right. Who the hell was I kidding? It would devastate me, knock all the life out of my heart in one painful burst. I was not the one. It would be a blow I might not recover from. The question was, how would Alexis recover? I worried she wasn’t the meek type, the one who’d wallow away on the couch in misery, scarfing down pizzas and rocky road ice cream. No, her recovery was probably of the plotting, sharpen-her-teeth-with-a-knife, stab-you-in-the-back-in-a-dark-alley type. And that scared the hell outta me.

  It would do me no good to talk to her. Any news coming from me would be dismissed as skewed, delusional. It would have to come from him. And he seemed reluctant to rip off the damned Band-Aid.

  ♦♦♦

  Alexis glanced up, her eyes on the curved wall of the upstairs VIP section. They were up there, the video feed off, enclosed in a bubble of privacy—their own little secret world. She knew what they were doing. Brad De Luca didn’t chit-chat, didn’t make polite conversation over martinis and cheese platters. Brad fucked: long, hard, and perfectly. Just the thought of it made her thighs clench tightly around the thirty year old toothpick she was straddling.

  Memories flooded through her mind. Brad, whispering words of sex as he fucked her against the wall. Brad, bending her over an upstairs VIP table, his hands and mouth worshipping her from behind before he took her with slow, gentle strokes that increased in speed until she came. Brad, her soul submitting to his dark eyes as she danced for him, the club closed, the shock of his hands as he suddenly stood before her, skimming rough hands over smooth skin, his mouth following his hands. And then she was laid back, hard stage against her back, his mouth, hands, and cock making the night, her worries, her life, disappear in a blur of orgasms and sex.

  Soft hands surprised her, taking her out of the memories and she glanced down, seeing pale fingers excitedly traveling up her tight stomach. She shook her head with a smile, pulling the client’s hands off her and holding them together above his head, the action causing her breasts to hover inches from his face. She ground softly against him, glancing down and trying to think about anything but Brad De Luca.