Dirty (5 page)

The running man is the death of me. I try to pivot and do the running man facing the wall when the music takes a sharp tempo change and BAM! I lose all footing and fly into the air. Not so funny now as the joke is on me.
Carpet, carpet, carpet!
Oh, Jesus I shouldn’t be praying for carpet in a strip club. All the wrong images assault my vision of shaggy carpets, but they’d feel so soothing on my scraped up knee.

And right before I gracefully face plant on the floor, I wonder exactly what in the fuck Darby put in my flask.

“Nice show,” a deep voice echoes in the hallway.

Fingers dig into my biceps and knees, catching my legs until I’m in a standing position. At first, I am a bit wobbly then every thing appears crystal clear. I blink once and then twice and then probably a fourteenth time to make sure it’s the same blue eyes standing before me. I mean, I seriously just imaginary dry humped these blue eyes.

I raise a finger and try to poke at his eyeball, but the face moves backwards. The dark hall, my dumbass idea of auditioning for Madonna’s back up dancer, and the fucking whiskey Darby put in my flask swirl together.

“Zane.” My lips are dry and stick together when I try to speak his name.

“Ava.” His voice is cool and confident.

“I have to pee like super duper really bad.” I cross my boots at the ankle and squeeze my thighs shut, forcing my faucet off.

“You were just dancing.”

“I think I wiggled my pee down the wrong tube.”

His deep laughter fills the hall and shocks the living shit out of me. If I’m being honest, I just tinkled a bit or was that a bit of other excitement stemming from me.

“Bathroom.” Zane pushes open the swinging door to a one stall empty bathroom.

“Is this the men’s?” I ask and crane my head around to the front of the door.

“Nope, women’s.”

“Why’s it empty?” I ask, crossing my boots once again at the ankles.

“I’m thinking the Ava pee pee dance may have scared a few people away.”

“Was it that bad?” I clench my thighs tighter together.

He only shrugs and offers up a half smile. Yep, the fucker is drop dead sexy just like the men who invade your dreams in the middle of the night and you end up sitting on their face and yelling out dirty, dirty things in your sleep.

“Well, go pee.” He points to the toilet that’s open for the world to see.

“Leave.”

“I don’t want to.”

His words cut through the crisp air, nailing me in the gut.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I’ve wanted to kiss that fucking smirk off your face since you walked in on me in the bathroom and stared at my cock.”

“I did not stare…” I don’t even finish my sentence before his lips are on mine and his hands tangle in my hair. My body goes limp and defenseless as he assaults my mouth lick after lick.

His tongue darts into my mouth, gliding along my teeth and then dips low in the back of my mouth. He absorbs my moans and clutches to me with his fists. I manage to pull back and stick my finger out as if to poke him in the eye and when he flinches, I know it’s real.

“What in the fuck?” he whispers onto my lips, dipping his face back down to mine.

“Making sure you’re real.”

“Why wouldn’t I be real?”

I shrug, growing shy all the sudden.

“Ava.” His deep voice sends chills up my spine and demands attention.

“I, uh, I…”

“You what?” He lifts me to sit on the bathroom counter and takes a step back, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The fucker knows he’s punishing me. Putting me in a timeout corner.

“I was at another club tonight and I closed my eyes and felt you on me.” I fidget with my fingers and fixate my stare on them. “It felt so real, Zane, and now this.”

The sound of his footsteps nearing me again causes me to quake with want and need. I’m no virgin, but no club whore either. I have no idea what in the hell has happened to me or the trance he’s cast over me, but all I know in his presence like this in a tiny space, it’s all too intoxicating.

The heat of his palms cover the top of my exposed thigh. I contain the moan dying to escape me and then feel his palms roam up my thighs until my short skirt covers both of his hands. I look down and study his strong forearms and the way his muscles flex when he dips his fingers underneath my barely there panties.

“I know your type.” His voice breaks the sexy tension in the room. “I can spot you a mile away. Rich little college girls here for the summer with no worries in the world besides what brand name bikini they’re going to lay out in.”

My spine bristles with his harsh statement. “You don’t know shit.”

His fingers dive deeper into my panties until the pad of his finger is rubbing light circles around my clit and he has me melting into him.

“You here with your chicks to celebrate someone’s bachelorette party?”

I bite my lower lip and swallow my pleas and then only nod my head yes.

“I used to eat little girls like you for breakfast.”

The bundle of nerves grows to a painful state before I’m falling over the edge and letting go all over his hand. But damn if the mean and very hot fucker is going to get moans of approval. I keep one palm placed on the counter steadying myself and then in one swift motion, I clutch the back of his head gripping onto his hair and slamming his face to mine.

Anger and lust swirl around in me as my lips meet his. I don’t wait for him to make the first move this time. My lips devour his, soaking up his masculine taste while my tongue darts in his mouth, circling it lazily. I lap every single ounce of his taste I can find before I reach down and cup his hardened cock through his jeans.

I pull back slowly, not wanting our mouths to part. I’m shocked when he stands there frozen. I leave one peck to the center of his lips and then on each corner.

The hold on his cock tightens and I feel him grow even harder under my touch. “I know men like you, Zane. Too big of a pussy to make a commitment and too big of an asshole to tell a lady she’s pretty.”

Slowly, I let my body slide down off the counter until the tip of my boots hit the tiled floor. Zane closes the space between us, planting his palms on the counter behind me, trapping me. He leans in and smells my hair and then brushes the tip of his nose along the sensitive skin on the side of my neck.

“I don’t date and I definitely don’t do what I just did in here. You’re not my type.” He sinks his teeth into the side of my neck and lets out a sexy growl.

“Too bad for you.” I duck under his one arm. “I was going to let you get me off with that giant cock next time.”

I don’t wait for his reaction before turning my back on him and placing my palm around the front of my neck. My sanity fights to slow down my heart rate, but the more I replay the epic game of cat and mouse that ensued in here, it only heightens. The slamming of the bathroom door causes me to flinch and when I whirl around, I’m all alone.

Quickly, I lock the door to the bathroom and pee.
I’ve gone fucking insane. I had to have imagined that, right.
A cool shiver runs up the length of my spine as Zane’s woodsy scent hits me. No way in hell I just imagined that and what in the hell was I thinking letting him get me off?

The really pathetic part hits me when I wash my hands…I wanted more of him. All of him. Those piercing blue eyes staring down at me as he worked his way in and out of me. I’ve seen his dick and now I want it.

I place the back of my hand to my forehead and wonder what in the hell has got into me. I’ve never before in my life reacted to a man like that. Zane, those blue eyes, and harsh voice have me screwed over because I have a feeling that I’ll never be able to get enough of the man.

“Where the hell have you been?” Chloe stands up with her hand on her hips.

“Had to poop?” Darby asks, pulling a seat out for me.

Before my ass cheeks even hit the seat of my chair, Chloe is ripping into me about bringing her to a strip club. I only manage to nod as nothing but Zane soaks into my brain. His smell and stare…holy fuck me.

I interrupt Chloe in mid-sentence. “Hey, have you guys seen Rhett here? You know the guy from the pizza place today?”

They both shake their heads and then give me a prying stare. They wait for an explanation but it never comes because the thumping music, strobe lights, and deafening catcalls overpower them. I relax back in my seat, feeling more fidgety than before and I know it’s because I need more of him right now. That sampler was in no way, shape or form enough to satisfy my appetite for him.

What in the hell is wrong with you, Ava? Mid-life, graduated college crisis. I’ve never been so attracted to a man or spread my legs for one in a public bathroom.

The tall glass of brown liquid in front of me with condensation running down all the sides entrances me. The liquid pools around the base of the glass, reminding me of the way Zane just had me in the bathroom. My insides coo just thinking of his mere presence and scent.

Man, I need to get laid.

The drink flows down easily; the strong taste of Jack Daniels burns all the way down, and relaxes me a bit more. Another one or two go down before the first performer hits the stage. He’s tall, lean, and very good-looking with sexy-ass moves to boot. He’s definitely killing the entertainment aspect as he’s bathed in dollar bills.

I zone out a bit on the next couple of performances and then finally excuse myself to get another drink at the bar and pee, again.

Darby cups her hands around my ear and tries to scream over the noise of the club. “Where are you going?”

I point to the bathroom.

“Hurry back. Lap dances are coming up next.”

I only nod and begin weaving my way through the thick crowd. Our table is front and center near the stage. Waves and waves of women have flocked around the stage and the funny thing is, they all vary in age. I guess hot men and sex never get old.

The cool air of the bathroom hits my flushed cheeks and I’m a bit disappointed when Zane doesn’t interrupt me. I do my business and then wash my hands and log into Facebook on my phone and search his first name and this town, but come up empty handed. He made it clear that he doesn’t date, but hell, I’d take a repeat of our encounter in the bathroom.

A barely dressed waiter follows me back to our table with a tray full of drinks; I tip him and then take my seat right next to the stage.

“Shots!” Darby screams. I fucking swear that girl is like the Energizer bunny.

“To Chloe!” I holler, and raise my glass in the air and knock back the little fucker and then chase it with my Jack and Coke.

The room suddenly spins and the atmosphere of the club finally smacks me in the face. I’m up on my feet cheering and screaming for the next performer with the rest of the sex-crazed women.

A deep voice booms over the speaker system as the stage goes dark. “It’s that time, ladies. The moment you’ve all waited for. He’s here and ready to dance, but the only question is, are you ladies ready for Boss Z?”

The screams are deafening and the dollar bills fly in the air. One by one the lights bordering the stage flicker on.

“I’m not sure if he hears you, ladies.”

The floor vibrates this time with a chorus of screams and more dollar bills fly. An overhead light flips on and the strumming guitar of a popular song begins. Then the high pitch squeal of Axl Rose overpowers the announcer. The main event dancer slowly saunters out onto the stage with his face toward the stage and his flat bill cap covering his features.

My vision remains glued to the man. There’s something about his strut and build that makes the rest of the strippers look very amateur. When the song picks up, he lazily drags the hem of his white V-neck up his chiseled abs and then does a quick three-sixty spin.

It may be the alcohol playing tricks on my eyes or the man just spun, got his shirt off, and turned his ball cap backwards in one simple movement. He plants both of his feet in a wide stance, rocking his hips back and forth while rubbing his hands in a naughty gesture up and down his torso.

Hell, I let my dollar bills from Darby’s purse fly up onto the stage. That gets me a high five and shoulder bump from her. Even Chloe’s up on her feet, enjoying the show.

The dancer makes it rain when his fingers unbutton his lose fitting jeans and then unzips them until his pelvic area is exposed.

“Holy shit!” Darby squeals. “He isn’t wearing underwear.”

Amongst the crazy ruckus it’s as if he hears Darby and finally looks up at the crowd. His piercing blue eyes stab me hard in the gut.

“Holy shit, it’s Zane,” I whisper and lock eyes with him. He keeps eye contact as he keeps dancing to the song.

T
he look
on her face is fucking priceless when she finally sees me. I don’t miss the fact that her gorgeous brown eyes darted down to my cock. I’d been watching her from backstage all night and noticed her uninterested posture and hell, maybe even a twinge of longing.

When she got up to use the bathroom during Rhett’s performance, it took everything for me to stay put and not go take her. It fucking killed me to keep my dick in my pants earlier. Her taste was so fucking sweet and I’d give anything to rip that fucking skirt off and lick her until she screams my name, tattooing her taste on my tongue.

Ross is going to have my ass, but it seems I have no damn self-control around this girl. It’s something I’ve never felt and I know I just need to fuck her sweet pussy and get it out of my system.

My cock has grown to a painful state dancing and maintaining eye contact with her. I clutch the bulge in my pants and give a few hip flexes before sliding on my knees to her side of the stage. I rest back on the palms of my hands and thrust to the beat of the song for a few moments. Then I sit back up on my knees, grabbing her hand in one quick movement.

Her exaggerated breath hits my forearms, making this action so much sweeter. The crowd goes wild as I slide down the back of my jeans with my free hand, showing my bare ass to one side of the club.

I give her a quick wink and then tug her close enough that I can shove her hand down the front of my unzipped pants. Not once do I break our stare. Her petite hand wraps around my dick and slowly begins stroking me from base to tip. The connection is more than I ever thought it would be. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as she quickens her pace.

Ross has a strict rule of no contact when on stage. We can bring girls up and dance around them with our clothes on but no skin-to-skin contact. The crowd may think its part of the show when I throw back my head and groan. I get way too close to the danger zone with her hand down my pants. When her hand reaches the head of my cock, I can feel her swirl her fingertip around a bead of cum.

I catch her wrist and pull it from my pants and bounce back up, giving each section of the club a view of my ass while pulling down the front of my jeans to the wicked zone without exposing anything. Ava doesn’t see me when I watch her lick the tip of her finger clean. The expression on her face as she takes me from her fingers causes my cock to pulse way too uncomfortably in my jeans.

In just a few short moments the song comes to an end, Ross cuts the lights, and the dollars fly onto the stage. I don’t wait for his announcement or a chance for an encore before rushing off the stage. The club is at an all-time high of cheers and roars.

When I enter the dressing room, Rhett has a blonde bent over the bench pounding the fuck out of her while she sucks off Oliver.

“You’re done?” Rhett asks, not missing a beat.

I only nod and race into the bathroom, locking the door behind me, and fighting to catch my breath.

“What has she done to me?” I say out loud in the bathroom.

My hand roams down the front of my jeans until I have my cock clutched in a painful grip. Her brown eyes haunt me as I stroke my dick from base to tip. Her touch and hand felt so much better than mine. I pick up the pace, remembering her sweet floral scent and long brown curls draping over her shoulders.

“Fuck, Ava,” I growl out and stroke my dick faster. The pent up want and need for the gorgeous brunette peaks as my cum sprays all over the tile floor. The feeling of satisfaction never hits me. I’m left hollow and only wanting her.

I bang the back of my head on the door, staring up at the ceiling and realizing just how fucked up I am. I’m a fucking God who wins at life and makes money doing this shit, but right now all I want to do is haul her sweet little ass out to my truck and fuck her senseless into the morning.

A thunderous pounding on the door from the other side distracts me from my spiraling thoughts.

“Zane, lap dance time. Let’s go.”

“Fuck,” I growl, swinging open the door.

“Let’s go, champ.”

Rhett looks behind me at the mess on the floor and only shakes his head. My best friend can read me like a fucking open book, but knows better than to pry. I make quick work of shimmying on some skintight boxers and then putting my jeans back over the top.

Ross gives his normal lecture about lap dances while hyping up the crowd. A sickening feeling washes over me as we stand in line on the stage readying ourselves to go make the real money by dry humping women. I scan the crowd for Ava, but the lighting is way too dark.

Bank notices, hospital bills, saving Grandpa’s place, and eventually paying for a proper burial drift through my thoughts. Both of my parents are locked up for murder, each serving life sentences with no option of parole…I have no one to come and save the day. That’s my job.

The sound of my neck cracking as I jerk from side to side puts my head fully back in the game and I begin scanning the crowd for the high rollers with the Benjamins. Those are the ladies I’ll target and give them the show of their lives. There are plenty of options.

Closer by Nine Inch Nails begins to thump in the club and we all jump off the stage and pick out our prey. Mine is a lady with a canary yellow Gucci bag at her feet. Way older than me, but decked out in designer shit and sporting the look that says she’s in need of a good time.

She spreads her legs for me and I know I made the right choice when all of her friends circle us, stuffing bills in the top of my pants. She rips my shirt off and begins clawing at my chest. I grab each of her wrists and pull them above her head while gently shaking my head from side to side. And of course like any greedy rich bitch, she sticks out her bottom lip to pout. This is when I lay it on thick; grinding on her, rubbing my chest, abs, and cock up against her clothed body.

Her friends howl and keep throwing the money in my direction. A loud ruckus catches my attention, so I turn around giving my customer a close view of my clothed ass. I grab her raised arms and wrap them around my waist placing her hands on the button of my jeans. Her friends cheer, approving of my move.

I snag one of her friends in front of me, raise my hands over my head, and begin air fucking her as my pants are pulled down to my ankles. I feel my ass cheeks being exposed, but keep dancing and letting the money rain down. The cheers become louder and louder. My curiosity peaks and I scour the club to find out what in the hell is going on or who is going down.

When I look over to Ava’s wild table of females, it’s not the bride to be getting the lap dance, but Ava. Oliver has his crotch embedded in her cleavage, dry humping the shit out of it. He then high fives Rhett, who’s on Darby. They both jump up on the chairs, planting their feet on either side of the women’s ass cheeks and continue to dance while practically face fucking the women.

The vein in my neck pops. Anger rushes through my bloodstream watching Oliver touch her. He grips the back of her head, bobbing her face in and out. Ava’s knuckles are turning white. Her grip on the edge of the seat is noticeable as her level of comfort grows out of control, but the fucking rookie doesn’t pick up on it.

Rhett and Darby are one step away from tearing each other’s clothes off and fucking on the club floor. The swarm of older women around me grows needier, beginning to pull and tug on my boxers. I grind back on the woman in her seat and pull down my boxers so my v-line and the top of my pubic bone are exposed.

I check back in on Ava and we make eye contact. The look in her eyes nearly brings me to a stop. It’s indefinable. I’m not sure if it’s disappointment or jealousy. She studies each of my movements as I grind on anything near me and it only takes moments for me to realize its disappointment and sadness. Under her stare, it’s the first time I feel dirty.

She may taste like gourmet and looks like fine china, but I don’t deserve her and never will. It hurts, but I finally break eye contact and figure what the fuck. I’m already in trouble with Ross, so what the fuck!

I pry my hand away from the hip of one of the ladies and pull my boxers all the way down until everything is exposed. A quick glance over to Ava kills me. The same apprehensive expression plasters her face, but this time her eyes focus in on me. It doesn’t take long before she takes in the entire nasty scene playing out before her eyes.

My attention is so absorbed in her dark brown eyes it’s not until I feel lips brushing against the head of my cock that I react, jerking back. Immediately, I zip up my jeans and go back to dancing. A quick survey of the club assures my nerves that the neither bouncers nor Ross saw a thing that just went down.

Their attention is locked in on Ava’s table and the rowdy bunch groping Rhett and Oliver. Rhett’s busy pleasing the crowd and raking in the greens, but Oliver has a different agenda. He’s full up on Ava and she’s resisting to the point of not enjoying the show. My gut somersaults and I’m not sure if she’s disgusted with Oliver or the show I just put on. Without delay, I regret it all when the look of pain and hopelessness takes over Ava.

It’s the same reaction I saw earlier today at the pizza restaurant. The same one that fueled me to go ape shit wild on a stranger and beat the ever-living fuck out of him. I wrap up the dance in a hurry, even though the music still pumps throughout the club and reach Ava in three long strides.

Oliver has made his way back down to the ground, but still has his hand laced in her hair. The fucker pulls her face up to his before I have the chance to pull him off. He’s aggressive as he goes in for a kiss, but misses Ava’s lip because she turns her head.

Security beats me to the punch, pulling Oliver off of her, and Ross works his magic avoiding a hostile situation at all cost. He calls Rhett to the stage and on cue he’s up there humping the stage in his skimpy thong. All eyes are on him.

Oliver disappears with security down the long hallway to the dressing room. The fucker better be fired or I’ll slit a throat. I finally reach Ava. She’s sitting alone at a table with her face buried in the palms of her hands. All of her friends have flocked to the stage to get a taste of Rhett.

“Ava.” I place the palm of my hand on the small of her back.

Her spine stiffens and her chest heaves. It’s not until she looks up at me that I see the tears racing from her eyes.

“Baby.” My arms wrap low around her waist, I lift her in one quick swoop, and cradle her to my chest. Ava’s arms wrap tight around my neck. She burrows her face in my bare chest. The tears stream down my abs and with each step I feel like a bigger dick than ever before.

I weave through the crowd of women who are now mesmerized by Rhett on the stage and exit through the tiny kitchen where the fried bar food is made. No one asks a single question when they stare at me packing out a weeping customer.
What have I done?

The night air chills the perspiration on my skin along with Ava’s tears. The silence is deafening and for once I’m at a loss for words. It’s easier for me to be a dick and hide behind that stone wall I’ve built around myself.

“Put me down.” Ava’s words are jumbled.

“What?” I look down at her face tucked in my chest.

“Please, put me down.” This time her words ring out in the dark alleyway.

I’m gentler with her than I’ve been with anyone in my life as I set her down on the cracked asphalt, making sure she’s grounded before stepping back. Her pale face lights up the dark environment.

“Are you okay?” I run my hands through my dark, damp hair. It’s then I realize I’m standing bare chested in front of her with the button of my jeans undone.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” She turns from me and dry heaves on the side of the building.

“Ava.” I lay my hand on the small of her back trying to comfort.

“Please don’t touch me.”

I back up and give her the time she needs. The back door swings open to the club and Rhett appears with a shit-eating grin.

“Thought you’d be tapping that fine ass out here. Fuck, that show was off the hook. Made more money tonight than I have the entire month.”

He’s oblivious, going on about the show and how entertained his dick is going to be tonight. I pace, my hands on my hips and don’t even know how to react. I’ve never felt this way about a woman. Ever. They’ve been fuck toys that I make money off and I’ve been the fucking king until she walked in tonight.

“Your phone’s been going off like crazy in the dressing room.” Rhett holds out my cellphone with the lit screen and all the notifications going off. “I’m off. Found a hot bitch to tap tonight.”

Rhett disappears back into the club before I have the chance to let him know that he better fucking keep Oliver away from me, so I don’t bash his fucking skull in.

Silence bathes the alleyway for several more moments before Ava stands up and turns to me. Her tears are gone, color has raced back into her cheeks, but I don’t miss the hurt still lingering in her eyes. I wait for her to talk first because in this moment I have no words.

“Is this why you don’t date?” she asks, crossing her arms and shivering in the night air.

I hold my hand out to her instead of answering her question and am shocked when she takes it. I don’t even have a fucking shirt or jacket to offer her, so I pull her into my chest and wrap my arms around her.

“You’re shivering,” is the only explanation I offer up.

“Answer me, Zane. Is this why you don’t date?” Her palm spreads out on my chest and her cheek nuzzles in.

“Part of it.”

“Why…” Ava fights to finish her question.

My gut screams to tell her the truth, but I don’t know if my soul can handle it. Holding her, kissing her, and hell even just looking at her twists me into knots and I know there’s something there. It could be the couch I fuck on the rest of my life and the woman I call my wife. My parents destroyed any hopes of being normal years ago.

“I work construction during the day and do this at night to make money.” I throw my head up to the night sky praying like hell for some help here. “My grandpa raised me and is real sick right now. I’m just doing the best I know.”