The Cat O'Nine Tales: learning to love

CHAPTER 2.

“Lads, I’m buying out this room,” he announced, loudly enough for the rest of the group to hear.

It was then that she realized he had an accent and it took all her willpower not to go weak at the sound of the British lilt as it rolled off his tongue.

“Aww Buchanan, why ya gotta be so selfish?” The blonde haired man with the amber eyes teased.

“You’ll find another,” her client affirmed, referring to the other rooms that were available to rent. None of them were as big, or as nice as the VIP lounge, but they would be sufficient for any activities they had in mind. His gaze returned back to Maxx the moment the last man had left the room in pursuit of other pleasures.

“And then there were two,” she said softly, her voice taking on a raspy tone. Most men loved it when she talked that way, but it was her who was having trouble each time he spoke. His voice, both deep and sensual played her like harp strings and sent sensations shooting up her spine. Her eyes scanned the angled features of his face and she had to admit; he was one of the more attractive men she had ever met. It was always a pleasant surprise when one of the clients turned out to be a cutie. But handsome? Better yet, sexy as hell? She counted herself lucky.

“You seem a bit new to this,” the man told Maxx and she balked silently at the comment, her esteem taking a dive. Arrogant fucker!

“For the right price…” She simpered through a practiced smile, “I can make anything my specialty.” A moment of silence passed between them as he sat there looking up at her posed before him. “So how does $500 sound to you then, hmm?” he questioned with an arched brow, and laid yet another two bills on top of the three already balanced on his thigh.

And there’s the rest of next month’s rent! Maxx thought, forgiving the fact that he seemed to be as arrogant as he was rich. She leaned down so that she could whisper in his ear and placed a hand across the stack of cash in his lap, and let it linger there. From this angle, he had a perfect line of sight down her cleavage and she took her time picking up the bills, letting her thumb stroke the inner part of his thigh. Hard muscle flexed beneath her fingers and she felt another wave of heat wash over her as she found herself trying to imagine the body that lay hidden beneath his suit.

Calm down Maxx. It’s not like you can f**k the clients.

“That. Sounds. Perfect.” She said aloud, drowning out her inappropriate thoughts. The man took her words as consent and pulled her to him until she knelt, facing him, essentially straddled across his lap. “Let’s see what’s under here then, shall we?” He said, an intrigued look taking up residence on his face. Maxx fixed him with a devilish grin and then reached out to guide one of his big hands to her chest.

“You can look—“

“—but don’t touch. Yes, yes I know the rules,” he interrupted sounding almost indignant as if the thought were so distasteful. It was definitely a confidence boost knowing that she actually had some power over him after all. But then that could have just been her libido thinking.

Instead of answering him, she just nodded and waited as he took hold of the laces to her dress and tugged gently, unraveling the bow and loosening the top. As if on cue, her straps fell from her shoulders and each tug on the laces revealed more and more until she sat before him with the dress at her hips and nothing but sheer material separating her dusky n*****s from his gaze.

Maxx knew she had a nice body. It was one of the main reasons Brinda had hired her over other—maybe more experienced—applicants. That and her undeniable talent on the pole. Getting naked had never been one of her insecurities because she knew that it would be met with approval and cash. Lots and lots of cash. However, in this moment, she hadn’t ever felt more vulnerable. She couldn’t quite pin down why. Maybe it was something about the intimacy of the setting. Stripping for an entire room during a show was a lot different than doing private one-on-ones. There was just something about the way this man stared at her in particular. It was like a wolf stalking its prey.

She felt exposed. Both figuratively and literally.

            The man leaned back against the couch, and the motion ground her more securely against his lap. Her hips raised in response to the hard ridge that threatened to burst from his pants. Maxx smiled smugly to herself. His b***r was the one physical giveaway that meant she was doing her job well, and with new confidence she began to move rhythmically up and down. Side to side. He let out a quiet moan and she watched pleased as he appeared to be having trouble keeping his hands to himself. She could see the mental restraint in his eyes as she danced.

            Maxx took the opportunity to run her fingers through the inky-black hair, cropped shorter on the back and sides and left longer up top. It was smooth under her touch and she found herself inhaling deep enough to catch the fresh scent of his cologne.

Okay, better stop while I’m ahead, she thought and released his hair and slid off his thighs. She stood up and pulled apart the last of the laces on her dress until it slipped off her hips and landed on the floor in a pile at her feet.

            The man looked on appreciatively as she stood in nothing but her knee-high stilettoes and a sheer black bodysuit.  

            “What’s your name?” he asked, his grey eyes never wavering.

            “Temptation,” she responded automatically and gripped the pole with one hand and began her second routine.

            “No. Your real name,” the man said again, taking Maxx by surprise and she fixed him with a questioning gaze from where she hung in an upside-down splits.

            “It’s Temptation,” she insisted and lowered herself from the pole, cutting the performance short. The man shook his head and stood up for the first time that night. Maxx realized then just how big he was now that he was standing. He was incredibly tall, and had an athletic build, one that appeared to be crafted from years of playing sports. His lean shoulders tapered to a narrower waist and she could only imagine the definition concealed beneath his waistband. 

            “I’m sorry,” she said meekly, finally breaking out of character. She felt very small in his presence and she reached down to pull her dress back on. “I should go,” she said again and then hurried out of the lounge not daring to look back.

Damnit Maxx, you blew it for sure! Now Brinda really is gonna fire you and replace you with a younger, peppier, sluttier version of yourself! And speak of the devil…

            “Just where do you think you’re going?” Brinda hissed materializing at her side. Maxx rolled her eyes, already resigned to the fact that her job was terminated and ignored her. “Maxx!” Brinda barked. “Why did you leave so early? Did he reject you?!” Maxx stopped in her tracks her jaw dropping open.

            “Does it even matter? For Pete sakes I’m a stripper not a w***e!” She snapped, but kept her voice low enough that none of the other clients could hear. She wasn’t an i***t. Brinda glared.

            “Now you take that back!” She began. “You’re a p***y cat not a…” But Maxx didn’t let her finish. “It’s exactly what I am, Brinda. I strip for people and dance on a pole. But I’m not some s*x robot that you can just pimp out to the highest bidder, Brinda!”  Maxx spat her name out like it was a disease and let out a sharp puff of breath. “Just let me do my job or just fire me like you keep threatening.”

            She couldn’t believe the words had left her mouth, but by then it was too late and Brinda’s face had turned a deep purple. Maxx thought she might explode.

            “That’s it you little—“

            “Brinda!” She was interrupted by, Beth—the girl who had taken over the floor for Maxx so she could do the VIPs. “The man from the VIP lounge just left this for Maxx. It’s her tip,” she clarified and handed Maxx a stack of bills. It was considerably a lot thicker than the $550 dollars she’d forgotten to grab in her haste to leave the room. Her eyes grew wide.

            “This is two-thousand dollars!” She gasped. It was undoubtedly the biggest tip she had ever received from one man and it couldn’t have been more of a surprise. She’d figured after breaking character and running from the lounge, he would more than likely leave upset, and demand a refund or something.

            “And Brinda,” Beth continued. “He wants to see Maxx again instead of Trixie. He said he hopes she’ll be available for him tomorrow night. Same time.”

Another surprise.

            The waitress hoisted her tray and left once the message was delivered, leaving a speechless Maxx to endure Brinda’s wrath. She braced herself for the verbal lashing she knew would come.

            “Why you wonderful little fantasy!”

            “Huh?” Maxx was caught off guard by her manager’s sudden change of mood. Once she thought about it though, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Two-thousand dollars was a huge tip, even for some of the more experienced girls, and you didn’t get to be treated as VIP status without dropping a small fortune or two at the door.

            “I’m giving you the rest of the night off. I’ll see you here at eight o’clock tomorrow night. Don’t be late!” Brinda chirped, all smiles once again.

            “So I’m not fired I take it?” Maxx asked and was met with an innocent laugh.

            “Oh don’t be silly!”