Dominant Desires by Molly Doyle
CHAPTERONE
The music blares through the surround sound speakers from the front of the strip club. Blue, green, and purple neon lights illuminate the dancers on the raised platforms.
There are naked women in stilettos, dollar bills folded lengthwise through G-strings, and an uncalculatable amount of men residing in booths and chairs surrounding the stages.
There’s a faint scent of warm bodies, cheap cologne, and a beer-stained floor beneath our feet. Making our way toward the back of the building, our deal has already been set in stone. A decent amount of money to last me through the next few weeks has been exchanged for sexual relations.
When we reach the private room, I raise the dim, blue light, creating a seductive ambiance. Shutting the door behind us, the man I’ve met only moments ago approaches me.
Groping my body, he breathes heavily against my neck. I cringe from the stench of hard liquor and tobacco on his breath, somehow managing to fight the urge of shoving him onto his ass.
Somehow.
Truth be told, this has been my occupation for far too long for me to make any rookie mistakes. This is just like any other night at the club where I have no choice but to disregard it.
“Okay,” I snarl, pressing my hands against his chest to establish some distance between us.
Personal space, if he’s ever heard of such a thing. Although, I don’t exactly seem to get much of it with my line of work.
“Where’s the cash?”
He stumbles backward with a scowl. “What?”
Swaying my hips to the side, I force a grin, playing nice. “The money.”
“What money?”
“Don’t play games,” I say, gritting my teeth, watching as he makes himself comfortable on the black, leather sofa. “I’ll need to see the cash first.”
Unbuckling his belt, he chuckles. “You’ll get what you’re worth after, sweetheart.”
“Excuse me?”
“Did I stutter?” he asks, slurring his words. “Just get that sexy ass of yours over here before I change my mind.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Turning on my heel, I bolt out of the room, completely disregarding his shouting from over my shoulder.
Unbelievable.
Entering the changing room after my shift, I’m relieved to find Natalie already getting dressed. After living and working together for the past several years, she’s become more like a sister to me than a best friend.
With her short, blond hair and green eyes, she’s unique in every way. I’m much more average looking with my long, brown hair and light, brown eyes.
“That’s awful, Sasha,” she says, in remarks to what had happened to me earlier. “This is the worst timing.”
“It’s always when rent is due.”
“So, you didn’t make the rest?”
I frown, discouraged. “Close, but not close enough. That drunk bastard just had to ruin it.”
“What a prick!”
“Who’s a prick?” Gabby chimes in, striding into the room. She studies her reflection in the mirror, groaning. “Tonight’s a fucking disaster. I can’t find my hair wax anywhere.”
“Heads up,” I warn.
Tossing her mine, she smiles with gratitude. “Always there when I need you, Sasha.”
“This guy tried pulling his cock out earlier during a private dance,” Natalie explains. “It’s safe to say that Sasha is traumatized.”
“Oh, God,” Gabby dramatically gasps. “You poor thing.”
“He was definitely overserved,” I say. “And repulsive.”
“SOS!” Kelsey exclaims from the hall, entering the dressing room with a limp. “My heel just broke.”
“Yikes,” Gabby says, gesturing to her bag with a nod. “Lucky for you, I always have an extra pair.”
Kelsey winks. “Teamwork makes the dream work, babe.”
“All right,” Natalie laughs. “We’re out of here.”
“Oh, don’t brag,” Kelsey mumbles, slipping into another pair of stilettos. “Hey, I’m craving an Italian sub from Nick’s. Can you guys grab me one?”
In the midst of reapplying her lipstick, Gabby shoots her a glare. “Absolutely not,” she objects. “This room is not smelling like B.O. tonight. I can’t handle that God-awful smell again.”
“Quit your bitching.”
They continue to argue while Natalie and I turn the corner, making our way down the secluded hallway.
“I don’t know, Sash,” she sighs. “Sometimes, I worry.”
“About what?”
“If management ever found out about us prostituting on the side, all hell would break loose.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I say, reassuringly. “You know I won’t let that happen.”
“Yeah, if you say so. Let’s just hope that guy keeps his drunken mouth shut.”
“Any luck for you tonight?”
“No,” she miserably replies. “But my regular is waiting for me.”
Stepping out into the night, we’re greeted by the fumes of New York City. There’s exhaust from buses and trucks, the aroma of fried food in the near distance, and nearby cigarette smoke.
“And guess what?” Natalie smiles, linking her arm through mine. “He says he’s going to take me to a hotel this time.”
“Classy.”
“Right? It’s about time he spoils me,” she says, playfully nudging me with her elbow. “Well, he’s here. Are you going straight home?”
“Of course. Netflix is calling my name.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ll see you later, babe. Don’t wait up for me.”
“You know I will. Stay safe, Nat.”
“As always!”
* * *
The bench iscold against my thighs while I patiently wait for the bus to arrive. Eagerly checking the time on my phone, I release an aggravated breath. It’s more than ten minutes late. Lovely. There’s nothing worse than having to rely on public transportation, but living right in the heart of the city, this is my day and night routine.
Total nightmare.
Several minutes pass before I decide I just can’t take it anymore. My heels click against the pavement with each step as I make my way to the side of the road. Sticking out my arm to hail a cab, something immediately catches my attention.
A sharp, midnight black Ferrari.
Pulling up to the curb, it comes to a stop several feet away. Without thinking about the consequence of my actions, I stride over to the elegant car, eager for a better view.
The windows are heavily tinted, barely allowing any view of the driver. Curiosity gets the best of me. Squinting my eyes, I lean down, trying to get a better look inside. When suddenly, the window rolls down, and I am frozen in place.
Thick, dark lashes surround his frozen irises. His eyes are staggering, like the stars, drawing me in to explore their endless depth. They’re captivating, yet as cold as ice, pooling so deeply into my soul that they send electrical chills down my spine.
Something about this man is urging me to back away, to leave, or to run. It’s warning me to not speak a single word, although it’s so tempting due to how brutally handsome he is.
Not one word has been spoken and I already know I’m in deeper than I could ever imagine.
My gaze drifts down to his full, pink lips, and to his strong, pronounced jawline. Such masculine features.
He tilts his head to the side, observing my every move.
Smooth, Sasha.
Just in time, he lowers his head. Devoting his attention to the screen of his cellphone, I happen to catch a glimpse of a Rolex clasped around his wrist. Along with his expensive ride, he’s also wearing a suit and tie. It’s evident he’s wealthy.
Maybe, he’s friendly. Although, a strong intuition warns me that he’s the opposite.
“Is this your car?” I ask.
“It is.”
That voice.
So seductive, and throaty. My breathing hitches. I can’t help but allow my gaze to take note of his muscular arms and firm chest beneath his suit. My imagination wanders.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, losing my composure.
“Appreciate it.”
“Where are you headed?”
Suddenly, he lifts his head, and our eyes lock.
Oh, wow.
My insides immediately turn to mush. Those piercing, blue orbs are so intense, so sharp, they could cut you like a knife. Mesmerizing, although terrifying, in the most beautiful way.
“The Pierre.”
My eyes widen. “Wow, a five-star hotel,” I say, impressed, yet envious. “The most prestigious hotel in New York—”
“Listen,” he arrogantly interrupts. “I’m in quite a rush—”
“Well, Sir,” I cut him off mid-sentence, turned off by the rudeness of his tone. “I’ll take the hint. Have a nice night.”
Turning away, I head for the sidewalk with my dignity.
Smug bastard.
Beautiful, smug bastard.
“Wait,” he calls out.
My heart leaps into my throat. For a moment, a part of me believes I must be imagining this. Without giving it any thought, I turn and look in his direction.
“Have I offended you?”
I frown, fixing the strap of my purse around my shoulder. “Well, you’re a bit rude.”
“Come here.”
Stunned, to say the least, I wonder if I have heard him correctly.
“Sorry?” I ask.
“Come here.”
Well, then. Striding back to him and his luxurious car, I can’t help slipping into a daze at the passenger window.
“Do you need a ride?”
“The bus should be here soon,” I say, rejecting him.
“Not necessary. Allow me to drive you home.” He gestures to the door with his hand. “Get in.”
“Get in?”
“Yes. I don’t bite,” he purrs, a gleam in his eyes. “That is, unless you want me to.”
A beautiful, smug, devious bastard.
Hesitating to think for a moment, I ponder how I should react. This night has already been hell, and I truly don’t think it could get any worse. Not for anything, but sleeping with this man would certainly be the highlight of these last few months.
Years, even.
Without questioning anything further, I find myself doing as I am told. With the dark, red leather seats and this sophisticated man sitting beside me, everything feels like a fantasy.
He offers his hand. “Jaxon.”
And I can’t help but stare. It’s unbelievable how long his fingers are and how wide his palm is.
“Sasha Pierce.” I shake my head, hating how my last name has somehow slipped.
Accepting his hand, there’s a strong zap.
Damn static.
Releasing me from his firm grasp, he takes in the sight of my patent leather, knee-high boots.
“Are you a stripper?” he asks.
Appalled by his boldness, I silently blink at him.
“Hooker?”
“Please tell me how that’s any of your fucking business,” I press, a wave of embarrassment flooding over me.
“You approached me, Ms. Pierce. It wasn’t the other way around.”
Right.
His brows furrow. “Can you simply answer the question?”
“You’re very demanding.”
“You truly don’t have the slightest idea.”
He’s such a handsome man; yet so demanding and on edge. His personality is far from welcoming and he surely doesn’t make a good first impression. As cliché as it sounds, there’s just something about him. There’s something that draws me to him like a magnet.
His face hardens instantaneously, almost as if he has somehow read my thoughts.
“So, what if I am?”
“Well, then I have an offer.”
I purse my lips, smirking. “Name your price,” I say.
“Thirty thousand dollars.”
