Deal With The Stripper
1377 Words
“Didn’t think you’d actually call.”
I didn’t know what to expect after I pressed the call button.
I definitely didn’t expect him to pick up on the very first ring, like he had been waiting on my call. I didn’t have to say a word or introduce myself, he knew it was me
Hearing his voice again, so smooth and confident, shouldn't have hit me hard.
It was deep, calm, teasing and felt like he’d whispered it directly against my skin.
“Hi,” I managed. I sounded breathless. Pathetic.
I heard his deep chuckle over the phone. “Why do you sound nervous?”
I ignored the question and went straight to why I called him. “I need a favor. Can I see you today?"
“Mmm.” His tone was lazy, and it made my n*****s contract. “Miss me already? You need another dance or…..something more.”
All I could imagine as he spoke was him talking me through as he slipped inside of me.
I shifted in my seat, furious at my skin for tingling just because he had spoken. My thighs pressed together even before I realized
If I continued at this rate, I would need to carry extra panties with me
I shut my eyes, gripping the desk before I said something I’d regret.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I hissed, my tone sharp even as my body betrayed me. “I have a proposition for you. It’s business.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart. What kind of proposition does a woman like you have for a man like me?”
Sweetheart? God, that word had no right sounding that good.
“I’ll tell you when we meet,” I said, pushing myself away from the desk, trying to sound detached. “Somewhere quiet. I’ll text you the address and time.”
“I’ll be there.”
I didn’t give him the chance to say anything else, I hung up immediately.
I stared at my phone, my pulse racing and every nerve in my body humming
******************************************
I arrived first, on the rooftop of one of my hotels.
Sixty-five stories up, running a billion-dollar empire… and one man with a sinful mouth still had me acting like a nervous intern.
Fantastic.
I’ve always had everything under control, this was just a business meeting. I could handle it.
The elevator dinged, and I mentally prepared myself to meet him again, but all my preparedness watered down the minute he got out of the elevator, approaching me
He was dressed in a fitted black shirt, slacks and a pair of loafers.
He smiled as he sat across from me, his gaze still as lethal as ever. “You look tense. Didn’t expect me to wear clothes? I could take them off for you. It all depends on what you want.”
My mind instantly had flashbacks and I choked. On air.
My hand went to my chest, trying to play it off. My entire face was on fire.
I sat up straighter, fixing my expression into something professional, the same look I used when closing mergers.
“That’s not why I called you here.”
He looked at me as though he could read everything I was thinking. “Of course not. Strictly business. My mistake.” He winked.
My fingers twitched against the table, but I didn’t look away. “My proposal would pay you more than your little dances and before you even think of saying anything ridiculous, it’s not sexual.”
“That’s a shame-“
“I need you to act as my boyfriend for a week,” I interrupted him sharply before I chickened out, or he said anything that would tear down my stretched composure.
His right brow lifted and his smirk softened, turning curious.
“My sister is getting married,” I straightened, forcing myself to sound businesslike. “To my ex- fiancé. It’s in three days and I can’t afford to attend alone.”
He leaned back, looking over the city before his gaze fell on me again. “So, you want me to pretend you’re mine for a week?”
His damn choice of words. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Alright then, I’ll play your boyfriend.” His smirk returned, slow and certain. “But I get to name my price.”
I crossed my arms, surprised but grateful that he agreed so easily. “Money isn’t an issue. How much is it going to cost?”
I dipped my hand in my purse, ready to write him a fifty percent down payment of whatever amount he named.
“Who said anything about money?”
I raised a brow, “What?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze dipping to my lips before finding my eyes again. “A favor. That’s my price. That’s how much my services are going to cost.”
I frowned. “A favor?”
He smiled like he knew something I didn’t. “Mhm. I’ll play your perfect doting boyfriend, but when I ask for a favor later… you’ll owe me one. No questions asked.”
“You’re joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
He didn’t. And worse, I could tell he was enjoying this.
I forced out a laugh that sounded a little too thin. “You’re ridiculous. You can’t expect me to agree to—”
“Then don’t.” He shrugged, standing up casually,
He adjusted his cuffs. “I’m sure you’ve got a whole lineup of men willing to play your perfect boyfriend.”
The words hit a little too close. I didn’t have a lineup of men.
He started to turn, and before I could stop myself, the word tore out of me. “Wait.”
He paused, his back still to me.
I exhaled, swallowing my pride. “Fine. You’ll get your favor.”
I didn’t even recognize my own voice. Since when did I sound like a woman giving in?
He turned then, his smirk deepening, victory glinting in his eyes. “Good girl.”
My jaw tightened. “Don’t call me that,”
“Noted,” he said, clearly not noting it at all as he reclaimed his seat.
I cleared my throat, forcing authority back into my voice. “We’ll attend the wedding events and the wedding events, then you’ll disappear from my life. That’s it. One week. We’re leaving in two days.”
He nodded slowly, his expression unreadable “One week,” he echoed. Then, softer, “alright then, just don’t forget you owe me a favor, Raina.”
My name again.
That same casual way he’d said it before in that dim room, right before he left his card.
“How did you know my name? I don’t remember telling you.”
His gaze flickered, and I noticed a bit of hesitation before he spoke. “It was written on the card you filled for the private dance.”
Katrina or Cassie must have written it down.
“Since you know my name, don’t you think we should be even?” I tried not to sound eager to know his name.
He didn’t answer. He just stood up again, his hand brushing the edge of the table just close enough that my pulse picked up. “Send me the details. Time, place, dress code. I’ll play the part perfectly.”
He started walking towards the elevator and I tried not to focus on his ass, but my mind wouldn’t cooperate.
I watched him press the elevator button and when the doors slid open, he walked in.
Was he not going to at least tell me his name?
Before the doors slid shut, he turned back and gave me that easy, devastating smile again. “It’s Hansen. Kenneth Hansen.”
Before I could even respond, the doors slid shut
My body still felt warm where his eyes had lingered.
I straightened my blouse, forcing my pulse to slow, my mind replaying our conversation
Why would he pick a favor over money?
Something told me the favor Kenneth Hansen would cash in wouldn’t be one I’d be able to write a check for
- Writer
