Chapter 1

WELLS

Today has been a shitshow, and I need a stiff drink. Whipping my Audi into the parking lot of Hidden Gems, I park and get out. Might as well check out the competition while I'm in town and already pissed off. If this place is as good as people claim, it'll only be kicking a guy when he's down. Hell, it can only go up from there, right?

I show my ID at the door and head inside to the main part of the club. The smell of coconut hits me, burning my nose. I'm not sure if it's purposeful, but it's a bit much. Heading deeper inside, I see a bunch of chairs around the main stage with stairs on either side leading to stadium seating with a smaller stage and tables.

Climbing the steps to the right, I sit at an empty one and let my gaze wander. "Hey, baby, what can I get you?" A cute server walks up, wearing a black and gold leotard and stilettos.

"Give me an Old Fashioned light ice," I tell her, sliding my card to her. "Start me a tab if you would."

"Coming right up, doll." She grabs it and heads toward the bar.

The lights flash blue and white as the music dies down. "Ladies and gentlemen, next to the main stage we have Opal!" Succubus by NIGHTMAER pounds through the speakers and the sexiest woman I think I've ever laid eyes on takes the stage.

Her stick straight blonde hair goes down to her mid-back. Her eyes shine brightly from across the stage when the spotlights reflect off them. I can't tell what color they are from where I'm sitting, but I know they are beautiful. She walks to the stage and starts moving to the beat, wearing nothing but a bright red, heart-shaped backless crop top and black leather skirt.

When the chorus hits and the bass picks up, she grabs the pole and starts her combo. Middle of the road as far as pole dancing skill goes, but only someone who also owns clubs would know that. She does an outside step and spins around before transitioning to a pirouette. She finishes with an e pose to a straight leg spin with a butt swivel.

The crowd cheers as she sensually pushes her skirt down, revealing a black latex looking thong. Lying on the stage, she puts her legs in the air and claps her pleasers together twice before flipping to her knees and crawling across the stage. Bills rain down as she unlaces her top and licks her lips.

Her full tits fall free and I clench my glass, my fingers gripping it so tightly my knuckles turn white. My heart races, each beat pulsing through my veins as I watch her. Heat spreads through my body, making my breath quicken. Every move she makes has me captivated, and I shift in my seat, adjusting my hard cock.

I watch my girls dance every day. Hell, I interview and audition some of the best—I'd like to think, and my cock has never even twitched. But at this moment? He's at full mast, pressing against my slacks.

I order another drink while I watch her finish her set, grab her money and clothes, before heading off-stage. This time when my server brings my drink, I have something else I want. "How does one get a private dance here?"

"You just tell me what dancer you want a private with, and I'll escort you to a room and have your girl meet you there. You pay her when she arrives and tip when she's done. Did you have a dancer in mind?"

"Opal," I tell her, taking a sip of my drink.

"Perfect. She's one of our top dancers. If you follow me, I'll get you into a room." She motions for me to come with her, so I grab my Old Fashioned and follow her down the stairs, toward the back behind the stage.

We walk to the left of the stage down a hallway lined with doors that have lights above them. Some are lit up red and some green. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that's the occupied or vacant system they use. We use something similar, but it's all on an iPad each server has with them to take orders.

"This is you. Opal will be right in. She is just freshening up." She pushes the door open, allowing me to enter, and closes it behind me.

While I wait for the captivating woman to join me, I take a seat on the plush velvet emerald sofa and look around. It's dimly lit like the rest of the club, but the walls are cream with glitter in the paint, it looks like. The decor is minimal and everything is gold or emerald.

Three knocks on the door before it opens slowly. The blonde steps in and I inhale deeply, taken aback by how stunning she is now that I can fully appreciate her up close. From my seat, I couldn't see that she had a septum piercing or eyes the color of a four-leaf clover. I also recognize that she's young, probably just old enough to work here.

"Hey, baby. Thanks for requesting a dance. What's your name?" she purrs, closing the door behind her and stepping to the screen beside the door, where I'm assuming they pick their music.

"Wells." God damn, her ass is perfect—full and perky, and ready to take a bite out of.

"What brings you to town, Wells?"

"Business," I tell her, watching as she picks her music and struts toward me, her hips swaying.

Lapdance by N.E.R.D. begins and I chuckle at her choice, given the situation. Opal stands in front of me with her chest leaning in my direction and slowly lowers herself onto my lap. Instinctively, my arms wrap around her waist, cupping her ass cheeks.

She places her arms around my neck while moving her body up and down, grinding against my dick. Looking up at her, she brings her lips close to mine like she's about to connect them, but pulls back at the last second.

My breath hitches and I want more. She pushes away, standing once more between my legs, and begins caressing up and down her body sensually. When she gets back to her skirt, she pushes it down her legs so slowly, it's painful.

In one quick movement, she's back on my lap with my hands cupping her ass. She leans back, her hair almost touching the floor, and her hands slide behind her. When she snaps back up, she pulls her bra off, revealing her full tits and their pretty dusty pink pierced nipples.

Fuck! I'm hard as hell. I'm not small, so I know when she grinds against me, she feels it rubbing her core. I've gotten dozens of lap dances in my thirty-eight years and none of them got me as worked up as Opal.

The song finishes, and she slowly stands, smiling as she grabs her discarded items. "Shit, I forgot to get the dance money beforehand."

"That's alright, sweetheart. I'll give it to you all now." I reach into my back pocket, pull out my wallet, and hand her three hundred-dollar bills. "Keep it."

"That's way too much. The dance is only seventy-five, then a tip," she tells me.

"You were worth every penny, sweetheart." I smirk and pray this stiffy goes down soon, so I can leave the room. I feel like a goddamn teenager.

"You're actually my last dance of the night. At least let me buy you a drink," she offers, fastening her bra behind her back.

"I'll take you up on that offer."

"Meet you at the bar. Give me ten minutes to put normal clothes on, yeah?"