One of the things that troubled me about working here, minus the ninety- nine percent chance of having to have sex with whoever wanted me, was the whole mafia aspect of the club.
Chicago has a fair amount of mafia influence. Things I shouldn’t know but do. After my not so wonderful Cartel experience I can spot guys like him and know exactly what they’re like from the get-go.
I’m unnerved by his intense stare, but I expect it. What I don’t know is what he’s going to do next. Men like him are unpredictable and volatile. They change like the wind and you never know what you’re gonna get from one moment to the next.
He puts out his cigar on the ashtray on the little table beside him and lifts a document. He holds it up and I realize it’s a contract. My contract. I can see my name. I signed that contract three weeks ago. Three months after the marketing firm I worked for went bust and desperate times truly hit me.
“So… it turns out that Lilly St. James who ran her piece of shit car into the back of my Bugatti is the same Lilly St. James who works for me,” he states in that deep baritone that commands attention.
I don’t wish to remember the thing that gave me the push to take the job. Things keep pushing me a long, but when a disgusting perv sees you and your baby hungry in the park, and offers to give you ten bucks to suck his cock, so you can feed your child, you will take whatever job you can get.
That’s what got me here along with the threat of Lev’s thugs harassing me for the ten grand I owe. It was enough. I saw the job listing online and I applied.
“It turns out I am. I didn’t mean to run into your car,” I apologize again.
Christian smiles at me and the smile too is disarming. The dimple in his right cheek softens his hard appearance and his eyes hold a sheen of purpose that quickly disappears when as smile fades.
“Age twenty-six, holds a bachelor of fine arts from Julliard, worked in LA for two years with the American Contemporary Ballet. Nothing for the last four years and now you’re here in my club, as the angel in my show.”
I gaze at him, not quite knowing what to say. He didn’t ask a question and honestly, hearing the impressive nature of my resume, makes me feel sick because I want so badly to be that Lilly St. James again.
I would give anything. The only thing I would never change is the existence of my child.
That devilish smile comes back to his face. “Now the question on my mind is this, what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?”
“I’m working,” I answer. And he gives me a deep chuckle.
“You are aware that you won’t just be floating around in that crystal ball… right?”
“Yes… I’m aware.”
He steps away from the balcony and moves closer. I swallow past the lump that’s formed in my throat and will my heart to calm its wild beat.
“You don’t look like the party girl, or the frivolous type. Yet you’re willing to do anything.”
“Yes…”
“Why?”
This feels like the same conversation I had with Louise. Except she was more concerned for my welfare. This guy is curious, like he wants to see what my limits are.
“I needed the job,” I answer simple. What other answer can there be. I haven’t seen much of the other staff yet, but I know what they have to do. There are private waitresses and all sorts of different people here who make the fantasy. I doubt that the bulk of them would do it because they love having sex with random strangers.
Then again maybe they do, and I’m just being the naïve princess, lost to the understanding of how the world truly works.
“Do you know what the word anything means at The Dark Odyssey, Lilly St. James?” he asks taking another step closer.
I want to stand my ground and show him I’m not afraid. I want to show him I can be professional about this, but my legs move on their own accord and I step back.
Smiling, he takes another intimidating step and leers at me. Another step from the two of us in a dance of power and I stop near the wall.
He touches the edge of my face and looms before me. “Answer the question
Angel. I definitely tell you suit the part; I almost feel like the devil I am to dirty you up.”
Dirty me up… what is he going to do to me?
“I know what anything means. You’re talking to me like you don’t want me to do the job,” I answer trying to keep the quiver out of my voice. I pray it’s not that. I wonder if it is. He paid five grand to spend the night with me and here we are talking about the job.
I don’t know what I’d do if he fired me. I was paid for the rehearsals and the training for the last few weeks. I got four thousand dollars for that and I gave two of it to Lev, taking my debt down to ten grand. Ten grand I shouldn’t even owe but I do because of his stupid interest, and terms and conditions for late payments.
“I want you to do the job, I’m just trying you out for size,” he taunts.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I want to be sure I don’t get hit with a harassment suit because you misunderstood the term anything,” he declares.
When a wild flame of desire lights up his eyes, wetness gathers in my core. His gaze drops to my breasts and he openly stares. I don’t have to ask what he’s thinking, or what he’ll want to do next.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
“Strip. Take it all off, I want the first taste.”
My breath stills and I try to calm my heart again so it doesn’t leap right out of my chest.
This is it.
This is it now. I’m going to have to do whatever he wants me to.
Swallowing hard I think of why I’m doing this.
I’m almost where I need to be. This is just for three months of my life and tonight is one night down.
I slip off the first strap of the negligee and the other. It doesn’t take much for it to float down my legs. It’s flimsy and designed for exactly this. My breasts bobble when I step out of the negligee and lean further down to slip off my panties.
His eyes never leave me. I’m under his watchful stare the whole time. I slip off my little ballerina pumps and lift my gaze gingerly to meet his as his eyes drink me in.
It’s been awhile since I stood naked in front of a man, and the last time was terrible. The man I called my husband was so awful to me that now he exists in the darkest parts of my nightmares.
Those four years of nothingness on my resume speak of four lifetimes. Marriage, abuse, having a child I now have to look after on my own after the death of my husband Miguel Diaz, the Columbian Cartel king.
He saw me as a thing. Looked at me as such too. I look at this man though and I’m surprised, stunned even by the glimmer in his eyes as he stares back at me. It doesn’t match the hardness in his personality.
There’s something about the way he looks at me that almost has me at ease, which is crazy.
Almost though. That hardness comes back to his eyes and the devil with it.
I’m almost scared to swallow and I pray that unlike Miguel, he’ll be gentler with me.
Christian walks closer and runs a finger over my stomach and up to stroke over my left nipple. Arousal grips me when he circles around the hard peak and I slow my breathing when he lowers and takes the nipple into his mouth.
I bite down on my bottom lip trying my hardest not to be turned on, but I am. He sucks hard then pushes me against the wall so he can suckle on my right breast.