Remembering what we were here for, I reached up and undid his belt before popping the buttons on his jeans. His hips pressed into my hand when I palmed him through the rough material.

When my hand dipped inside and found him hot and hard, he groaned into my mouth and pressed me even deeper into the wall.

Either he was really happy to see me or this guy had the uncanny ability to go from zero to sixty in no time flat.

My feminine wiles took a bow, believing it was them that had him so turned on.

I pushed him off me, wanting to take control and knowing what my ultimate purpose was in having him in my room. He stood in the center of the room with his nostrils flaring and his chest heaving. The hungry look he gave me had my stomach flip-flopping.

“Take your top off,” he demanded. “I want to see your tits.”

I shrugged and reached behind my back to unclasp my bra. It didn’t really matter to me if he wanted me topless. It was his time and money after all.

Sinking to my knees in front of him—grateful for the area rug over the hardwood floors—I looked up at him through my lashes and licked my lips.

“Oh God,” he groaned when I reached inside his jeans and this time pulled his cock free. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t the smallest one I had ever seen either. I guess you could say he was average sized and bent slightly to the left.

Keeping my gaze on his, I licked him from root to tip, stopping to curl my tongue around the head. I repeated my actions, teasing him with my tongue when I knew he really wanted inside my mouth.

When my lips closed around the head and I sucked him down into the back of my throat, he let out a guttural sound of satisfaction. My left hand held him firmly at the base while my right cupped his balls, rolling them between my fingers. His hands threaded through my hair as I worked him in and out of my mouth.

“Fuck. That mouth,” he murmured as his fingers traced where my lips were stretched around his cock.

When his balls grew tight and drew up slightly, I applied more suction and moved my hand up and down, adding to his pleasure. Within minutes, I was rewarded when he groaned his warning. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

I pulled my mouth back and watched as he thrust into my hand, pumping his seed all over my exposed breasts. A stray shot hit my chin, making me want to laugh at how pornographic it was, but I didn’t think that would be kosher.

A glance down at his softening cock had me pleased thanks to the red ring of lipstick I left behind. With a shaky hand, Peyton smoothed the hair from my face and gave me a panty-melting smile. It would seem he liked the visual as well. Or maybe it was the act itself that had him looking so relaxed and happy. Didn’t really matter either way.

Peyton went into the bathroom and washed up after me. I slipped my bra back on and fixed my makeup in a small mirror that hung on the wall while I waited for him. Setting my lipstick down, I turned to him when he came back into the room.

“You have skills,” he praised before putting a fifty-dollar bill in my palm. “I’ll be sure to ask for you again.”

“Thanks,” I said with a blush on my cheeks.

Second client down and I was doing okay. Dare I even say I felt empowered by the way both men had succumbed to me? It was a heady thought and one I’d have to explore later.

Five hours later, my feet were killing me and I was ready to go home. There was nothing glamorous about standing in stilettos for eight hours wearing underwear that looked good but weren’t practical to move around in.

When Peyton and I emerged from the back, Ghost was back at his perch. If I wasn’t mistaken, his jaw tightened and he gave us a disapproving glare before barking into his earpiece. I shrugged it off and said goodnight to my client before heading back up on the platform to dance.

While I flirted with several potential suitors, none had hired me for any services, which was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that I didn’t need to perform any further sexual acts. A curse in that not having more clients meant not having more money. Sure, the men often left tips for the dancers to split, but that wasn’t very much in the grand scheme of things. Especially compared to the big payout I’d gotten from my time with Marx.

Candy was sitting at the bar having what she said was her customary cocktail to end the evening when I came out with a blue dress on and my purse in hand.

“How’d it go?” She waved me over and signaled for Cheech to get me a soda.

“Good. Only one client tonight, though,” I said dejectedly.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she comforted me. “It takes time for it. There were quite a few of us on tonight and not lot of clients who tend to do more than drink and leave tips. Tomorrow will be better. You’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right,” I told her through a forced smile.

After a couple sips of my soda, I decided to bail, anxious to get home and soak my feet while watching a movie. I put my palms on the bar to stand up and had just said goodbye when I spotted Xavier out of the corner of my eye. He was dressed in his customary suit and had a swanky brunette draped on his arm. She exuded confidence and class, making me feel like a redneck in comparison. I fought the curl of my lip when she laughed at something he said as they disappeared behind the secret door.

“He doesn’t touch the merchandise.” Candy’s words had my head whipping in her direction.

“What?”

“I see the way you’re looking at him. Trust me, we’ve all looked at him like that. Some still do. But I’m telling you now, it will never happen. Best to get over it and move on.” Her tone was sympathetic and made my fist clench. I didn’t need her sympathy. All there was between Xavier and me was some feminine appreciation on my side. No woman in her right mind wouldn’t find him intriguing with his dark looks, bulging muscles, and cool demeanor.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” I assured her. “Besides, the most interaction I’ve had with him is when he came to my house to pay me for the Marx gig. It isn’t like we seek each other out.”

“You’re telling me X came to your house? To pay you?” Her disbelieving look had my arm pausing on its journey to set my purse on my shoulder.

“Yes,” I answered her timidly. The way she was reacting was much the same as the way she had when I’d told her about Marx to begin with. I had a sudden concern that she might get annoyed with me and start treating me like Destiny and Cherry did.

She let out a low whistle and leaned forward so no one could hear any more of our conversation. “Honey, X doesn’t go to any of the girls’ houses. And he sure as shit doesn’t pay us directly.”

“Maybe it’s because it was Marx. I got the feeling they were friendly with one another.”

“That may be true, but Marx or not, I’ve never known X to do anything himself that involved the girls. No, that isn’t right. If one of the girls gets roughed up, then I’ve seen him handle retribution himself.” At my wide eyes and pale face, she said in rush, “Don’t worry. That doesn’t happen a lot. Most of the issues they’ve had have been from boyfriends. X takes treating a woman with respect very seriously.”

My voice trembled when I spoke. I never imagined I’d ever be in danger working here. Everything seemed so organized and secure that the thought had never crossed my mind. “Candy, I have a little girl who needs me.”

“I know, honey. Pretend I never said it. The guys work really hard to keep this place upscale and safe. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” I said, although I wasn’t sure I believed it.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.” She stood from the bar and grasped my hand before letting go, knowing exactly what I needed in that moment.