Page 56 of Fragments
Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me.I don’t need the specifics. I just show up each night ready to get torn to shreds, then collect an envelope full of cash at the end of the week. This job fulfills me, sates my need to for release in the form of decent orgasms, and the spectacular pain thatI deserve.
Striding in through the back, I’m immediately hit with the booming bass of music from the main club. I make my way through the corridors toward the changing rooms, nodding at bouncers and elaborate security guards, of which we have many. You’d think it would be comforting, but it’s really not. They’re not here to protectus. They’re here to handle things if they get out of control, which has happened on more than one occasion.
This isn’t an upscale sex club, where safety is usually a top priority. It’supscalebecause of the clients we serve and how much money we make. And yea, it’s got some nice opulent decor. But Club Edge is designed to serve theclientabove all else, and they’re rarely penalized for anything, shy of killing one of us.
And even then, it’s not handled the way you’d hope.
I get changed and leave my stuff in my locker, doing a quick bump of molly off my knuckle before heading in the direction of the stairs. I’m almost there when I stop in my tracks.
He’s here. Go figure.
I’m suddenly very twitchy and far too warm, which is probably mostly the drugs. But every time I see Mr. Kade, I’m simultaneously filled with rage and sorrow.
He’s almost fifty, but he’s aging very well. It really grinds my gears…
The least he could do is be balding and wrinkly, for fuck’s sake.
Butno. Instead, he’s all tall and broad and gorgeous, still always in his expensive suits. The salt and pepper in his hair turning a little more salt over the years. But he looksdamn good…
My chest aches with memories.
I’m watching him from afar as he heads for one of his usual reserved rooms. But my forehead lines when I notice him holding the door for someone. A young man wanders up beside him, and Mr. Kade takes his hand, pulling him along.
So that’s who he has for the night…? I’ve never even seen that kid before.
And frankly, using the termyoung manto describe this person seems generous. He looks like he’s barely seventeen.
I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek.Of course. That’s his type, after all.
“What the hell are you doing just standing around??” Dom barks, startling me. “You’re supposed to be upstairs. Your client is waiting.”
Despite Dom’s scolding, I can’t take my eyes off the kid with his hand clasped by that of my dad’s former colleague. The man who took my virginity.
“Who the hell is that?” I seethe in their direction as Mr. Kade brings his new toy into a private room.
“That is none of your fucking concern,” Dom replies, grumpy asshole he is. “We’ve been over this a hundred times.Heis not your business. He’s not your client, and he never will be.Yourclient is waiting upstairs. Now, get your shit together and go take care of him.”
Now that Mr. Kade and his little friend are out of sight, I slant my face to glare at Dom. He’s a real self-righteous prick. Always has been, though he was certainly a lot nicer to me a year ago, when I first started. When it washimI was taking care of.
Call it his version ofemployment training, I guess.
I started at Club Edge as a bartender, quickly moving onto the role of dancer andhospitality specialist, which is Dom’s way of saying someone pretty to flit around the club, flirting with guys and making them feel special. Basically, I was a human hors d’oeuvre, charming current clients and enticing potential new ones. Themain course, however, is served in private rooms and the upstairs VIP section, which is where I work now.
I climbed the ranks fast, rising to entrée within barely three months. Mostly because Domlovedfucking me, but also because I’m hot, charming, and down for anything. It was the whole reason I started working here in the first place.
It’s the perfect job for me.Getting paid to fuck, while pissing off my parents as an added bonus.
I will say, though, Ilovedbeing a dancer. Having all eyes on me, the captivated gazes of men shimmering ravenous desire. They weredesperatefor me, and Dom was definitely one of them. He used to shove me into his office or a dark corner somewhere in between my sets, yank my tiny leather shorts down and pump me full of cock with his hand over my mouth.
Good times.
Now, he spends our every interaction scolding me about bullshit, and it’s not surprising. Men get bored pretty quickly.I know I do.
Plus, as fun as it was to be a dancer, what I really wanted was to be added to themenu. Specifically, to get into one of those private rooms with Mr. Kade. To be alone with him again, like when I was fifteen and he’d sneak into my bedroom when no one was home. Or when he’d send me to the penthouse suite he has on reserve at The Plaza, and we’d spend all night giving each other stupefying orgasms.
I know it probably seems super cliché to fall for the person who takes your virginity, but it was out of my control. My obsession with Mr. Kade started as a flicker and grew to a roaring wildfire over the few months we spent meeting up in secret.
Until he dropped me, like an ocean’s worth of water, putting out the inferno we’d become.
