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1072 Words
CHAPTER FOUR
DAMIEN
The camera click freezes the air between us.
Simone was still trembling beneath me, her legs loose around my waist as sweat cooled on her skin. But my body went cold as I slowly turned my head.
A woman was stranding near the door I swear I locked. She was young, blonde with a pretty smile.
Fuck.
"Nice angle," she said, holding up the polaroid. "The way her back arches is very artistic."
I pull out of Simone without any rush or shame. I tuck myself c**k back into my pants without bothering to zip. Simone tries to pick her robe, but I put a hand on her thigh to stop her.
"Elena," I say.
Her smile widens. "You remember my name. I'm flattered."
Elena Styles was an investigative journalist. Two months ago, she wanted an exclusive on my business, but I said no. She asked for dinner again, I said no again. And when she sent nudes to my work email, I had IT block her domain.
And now she's standing here with a photo of my c**k inside a stripper.
"How did you get in here?" I asked flatly.
"The bouncer likes me." She twirls the polaroid. "Any man would fall for a cute blonde. And this ass."
Simone shifts beside me, her eyes bouncing between us. She eyes are bored as her hands rest on her bare knee like she's watching reality TV.
"What do you want, Elena?"
"The same thing I've always wanted." She steps closer, heels clicking on the hardwood as she took in my unbuckled pants. "A story."
I stand, towering over her by six inches. "There's no story."
"Oh, I disagree." She waves the polaroid in my face. The image had developed now—Simone's face half-hidden, but my profile is clear. "Damien Adams, tech philanthropist, f***s a stripper raw in a strip club. He calls himself daddy and begs her to cum." She tilts her head. "Your shareholders would love that."
I remained unfazed. "This is illegal, whatever you publish would be taken down."
"Who said anything about publishing?" She steps back, tucks the Polaroid into her tiny clutch purse. "You know where to find me."
Her eyes flick to Simone as she backs toward the door, still smiling. "Goodnight, Damien. Sweet dreams, Blue."
She slips out the door and the moment she was out, Simone laughs.
"You have a stalker ex?"
"She's not an ex." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "She's a reporter who wants me to f**k her so bad."
Simone stretches out on the couch, stretching her toes and using it to stroke my c**k. "So she's bitter and has a camera. Fun."
I sit down next to her, suddenly exhausted. "Aren't you worried? She has your face on that photo.."
Simone turns her head and looks at me with those half-lidded eyes. "Damien, honey. I'm a stripper."
"I know."
"My dignity left my body the first time a bachelor party paid me to snort a line off a glass table and they f****d me afterwards."
"That's not—"
"My nudes are already on three different subreddits… my ex posted them years ago." She shrugs. "Some reporter with a grudge? That's Tuesday."
I stare at her.
"You're not freaked out at all?"
"I'm freaked out that you stopped f*****g me." She sits up, reaching for my belt. "Now where were we?"
I grab her wrist.
"Simone."
"Blue."
"Seriously."
She sighs, dramatic, rolls her eyes. "Fine. You want me to be worried? Okay. I'm worried she's hot." She pauses. "That black dress? The heels? She knew she was coming to seduce you, not just threaten you."
"You're jealous of the woman blackmailing me?"
"I'm saying," Simone swings a leg over my lap, straddles me again, "if she's going to be in our business, maybe we should give her something to really photograph."
I raise an eyebrow, holding back a groan as she grinded on my hips. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying." She leans in, lips brushing my ear. "She's hot, you're hot, and I'm already naked. Threesome?"
I lauhed. "Jesus Christ, you're insane."
"You paid me for insane." She grinds down against my zipper. "Now are you going to f**k me again or keep talking about the reporter?"
I slap her left n****e, making her gasp.
"Ow—"
"I'll f**k that wet little p***y when I want to." I slap the other one, a moan slipping past her mouth. "Get dressed."
"I don't want to get dressed."
I sighed, reaching for my pocket. I pulled out a few bills and have it go her.
Simone blinks, shocked. "Twenty thousand?"
I raised my eyebrows. "What? You're cheaper than that?"
I reach for my wallet on the side table and pulled out a stack of hundreds. I count twelve bills then hand them to her. "For the studio. You said you're saving for a dance studio, right?"
She stares at the money with raised eyebrows then looks back to me.
"I told you that two hours ago."
"I listen."
I leave her surprised and sexually satisfied.
I got to my apartment at 2am. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, I pour two fingers and pull out my phone. Unblocking Elena's number, I called her.
She picked in an instant.
"Damien,” she purrs. "I thought you'd call sooner."
"You want a story?" I sat down on my designated sofa. "Then come get it. Tomorrow, 9 PM. No camera."
"And the little stripper?"
"She has no business with us."
"That's not what she said."
My eyebrows dipped. "What?"
"I heard her, Damien… the threesome comment." Elena'sow laugh rang into my ears."She's a firecracker, I like her."
"Elena."
"Here's what's going to happen." Her voice drops into a low tone. “I'll come over tomorrow night and you’ll f**k me like you f****d her. Hard, raw and fast. And you’re gonna treat me like a bad girl because I have been very bad."
I take a slow sip of whiskey, my lips twitching into a smile. "And if I say no?"
"No? You don't want to disappoint your grandfather do you?"
My jaw tightens. "You're a bitch."
"Yes," she purrs again. "And you're going to f**k this b***h tomorrow night."
She hangs up and my phone pings with a message. I click it open and it's the pictures she took. She out the upload on a 32 hours upload.
- Writer
