His Stripper by Darcy Rose, Isabella Starling
Myles
By the time I pay for our food and lead Hazel back outside, the sun has set. With the sunshine gone, the temperature has dropped, leaving the air chilly. She stops in front of her car but doesn’t make a move to get out her keys.
“Ah… can I ride with you?”
“Sure, hop in.” I open the door for her and watch her get in before I walk around and get in myself. She is quiet as I pull out of the parking lot and head toward the club. Being close to her in this confined space has my head swimming. Her scent fills the car quickly, making me feel light-headed. I actually have to crack my window open to prevent my dick from getting any harder.
Every time I glance over at her, she is wringing her hands in her lap nervously. I’m not sure if she is worried about the job or simply on edge because she is in a car with a man she barely knows. A man who looks like a criminal… and lives up to that image very much so.
Ten minutes later, we pull up in front of Vivid, the strip club my oldest brother, Ace, handed over to me a year ago. On the outside, this is a clean and legitimate strip club. A high-end gentlemen’s club where the girls don’t even get naked all the way, keeping their tiny thongs on at all times.
We keep it that way on purpose because this business is how my family launders money from the not so legitimate businesses.
I usually park around the back, but no customers are here right now, and I wanted her to see the front.
“This is it. What do you think so far?” She looks up at it with wide eyes, taking in the large neon sign. The outside looks more like a nightclub than anything else.
“Nicer than I expected… no offense.”
“None taken.” I chuckle. “Let’s go inside.”
We get out of the car, and I have the crazy urge to take her hand. My palm tingles, beckoning me to reach out and touch her.
I open the heavy front door, and we both walk into the lobby. It’s sleek and stylish, like the rest of the club. Hazel looks around wide-eyed like this is some kind of magical place to her.
“Hey, boss,” Tommy greets from the top of the ladder he is currently standing on.
“Hey, Tommy, didn’t expect you to be here, but I’m glad you are.”
“Yeah? Missed me or something?” He steps off the ladder and throws the old bulb he just switched out in the trash.
“I might have found a new girl.”
Tommy gives Hazel a once-over, an approving grin forming on his lips.
“New girl, eh?” He walks over to us and holds out his hand to Hazel.
“Ah… maybe.” Hazel smiles nervously, putting her tiny hand into Tommy’s ginormous one. I’m a big guy, but Tommy has about three inches in height and sixty pounds of muscle on me, which is why I hired him as a bouncer.
“Tommy is the head of security,” I explain.
“Oh, that makes sense,” she whispers.
“Come on, let me show you around.” I motion for her to follow me as I lead her through the large double doors into the main room. All the lights are turned on right now, and the music is only playing low. There are three stages. A large one in the center and two smaller ones off to the side.
Holly is going over her new routine on the main stage. Gabrielle, Trish, and Samantha are watching and giving her notes. All the girls are fully dressed in workout clothes but are still wearing their high heels since that’s how they will be dancing tonight.
The song ends, and Holly steps off the stage, switching spots with Trish.
“Wow, she was really good,” Hazel points out like she is genuinely fascinated.
“Yes, Holly always takes her routine very seriously. She used to dance ballet.”
Holly must have heard her name because she spins around and waves at me before skipping over to where we stand.
“Hi! New girl?” Holly chirps excitedly, but I know it’s fake. She hates new girls, and if Hazel stays, she’d better watch it around her.
“If she can dance, yes.”
“Well, let’s see what you’ve got,” Holly urges. “You might want to lose the glasses, though. You have contacts?”
“We’ll get her some contacts but not right now. I have things to discuss with her first. Hazel, let’s go to my office and talk about the details,” I lie. I do want Hazel to dance now, but it will be for my eyes only.
I lead her behind the bar and up the stairs to my office. She steps inside hesitantly, and when I shut the door behind us, she jumps back like I’m about to tear her throat out.
“Calm down. I’m not gonna bite.” My words don’t seem to help much. She wraps her arms around herself like she’s cold, but it’s pretty warm up here, so I’m sure she’s just nervous and scared.
Walking over to the small wet bar next to my desk, I pull out two glasses and pour a healthy amount of whiskey in each. When I turn around, Hazel hasn’t moved an inch. Only when I hand her one of the glasses does she seem to snap out of her frozen state.
I watch her take a few tiny sips before I take a seat on the leather couch in the corner. Swirling the amber liquid around in my glass, I look up and down Hazel’s thin body.
“Dance for me,” I order before bringing the glass to my lips.
Hazel takes a large sip of the whiskey, almost emptying the glass completely. She tries to hide her disgust, but she can’t hide her cough from the strong booze. She looks around the room and finds a side table closest to her to put her glass down.
The music from below isn’t loud, but it’s enough for her to dance to. I lean back and stretch out my arms, waiting for her to start. She takes another minute, but I let her take her time.
Looking anywhere besides me, she starts moving her hips to the rhythm of the music. Her arms start to move next. She seductively moves them over her ribs, up her body until they are in the air above her head, and her whole body is moving in sync to the music.
She is better than I thought she would be. This innocent-looking, nerdy girl can dance.
“Start taking your clothes off,” I tell her, and I can almost hear her gulp from across the room. Nevertheless, she reaches for the hem of her shirt and starts pulling it off her body while continuing to sway her hips lightly.
A worn-out white bra comes into view. I’ve never seen anything less sexy, yet my cock still strains against my zipper. After throwing her shirt to the ground, she dips her fingers into the waistband of her leggings and pulls those down her slender legs.
That part is almost impossible to do in a sexy way, but somehow, she even manages that. I take another sip of my booze, hoping the alcohol will magically make my raging boner disappear. That thought is nonexistent when she reaches around her back and unclasps her bra. Her tits spill free, and a groan rumbles in my chest. Fuck me, her tits are perfect. Perky, just the right size, with rosy nipples that are begging to be sucked.
She spins around slowly, and I almost come in my pants. Jesus, what is it about this girl? I’ve seen more women dance naked than I can count, but I don’t remember reacting to anyone like this… ever.
Even though every fiber in my body wants me to push her onto her knees and thrust my cock into her throat, I know I need to do this by the book. Ace will have my balls if I fuck up one of our upfront businesses.
“That’s enough.” I grit my teeth, my words coming out way more harsh than they have to be. “You’ll do. Get dressed.”
Downing the last bit of whiskey from my glass, I get up and place it back on the wet bar. My cock aches with each step I take, but I force the fucker down.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I watch her dress quickly. When she is all covered up again, I motion for her to sit down in front of my desk while I grab an application from the filing cabinet.
I normally hand new employees the paper and a pen, but I’m too curious to know every detail about her to do it that way. Instead, I sit down across from her and keep the application in front of me.
“You get paid by tips only. You don’t dance; you don’t get paid. On average, the girls make six hundred each a night on tips.”
“Six hundred?” She gasps, sitting up a little straighter.
“Yeah, more if you’re good. You have to be here at nine and most nights stay until three in the morning. Monday is the only day we’re closed.”
“I can do that.”
“Great.”
“And I’ll pay you back whatever it costs to fix the car.”
“Don’t worry about that. We can get even later. Right now, we need to fill out this paperwork, and you’ll be good to go. What’s your full name?”
“Hazel Marie Miller,” she says, and I write it down. Next is her birthday and social security number, which she gives to me without a problem.
“Address?”
I wait for her to tell me, but after a few seconds, she still hasn’t said anything. When I look up from the paper, she is staring at me, her eyes brimming with tears.
“What?”
“I don’t have an address in town yet,” she admits, and it finally clicks in my head. She doesn’t have a place to stay.
Putting my pen down, I fold my hands in front of me, trying to hide my excitement. She doesn’t have a place to stay, which means this little temptress is coming home with me.