Page 14 of Into the Blue
Steph was unclear of what I actually do outside of buying these properties. Everybody outside of the life could speculate. Rumors have some merit to them. Which is by design so as few of my people as possible would go down with me if I ever got caught up in some shit I couldn’t buy my way out of.
And there is very little I couldn’t buy my way out of right now. But the things I couldn’t–it would be a tidal wave crashing indiscriminately over all of us.
She is probably the only person outside of Redd who knew who I really was.And she still thinks I like being at strip clubs.
“Wanna come next time?”
“No. I would not. Tits and ass don’t do it for me.” Then, she thinks on it for a bit. “You know… if they had ladies’ night with like Magic Mike or something—I’d be down.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Not at my club.”
“Well, the answer is no.” She smooths the front of her suit after standing and pulls a stack of folders from her bag. “These are the next. Tell me if you want any of them. My picks are tabbed with red.” She points to the ones she means with a neatly manicured finger. “And Blue?” She waits for me to stop looking over the files. When I do, she says, “If you like this girl, then don’t let her get away.”
I have zero intentions of doing so.
“Heard,” I tell her and she gives me a satisfied nod before her heels click out the door.
As soon as she leaves though, I’m back to my computer. Reading over more of what Redd sent me about the newest dancer at Off Topz. I can feel the smile on my face. The selfie on her application captures the bold confidence I saw without question. Her big hair, like a mane, around a perfect face and juicy lips. I regret not getting a kiss, but I also know it goes against the rules of the club. I’ll taste them soon enough. If they’re anywhere near as sweet as the lipsI didtaste, those rules are protecting more than her.
The rules were just for a private room.Right?
No government names went out the window, as soon as I pulled her file. From the application I can see Rocky “Diamond” Owens was born Racquelle in Atlanta, Georgia. She has a degree… A masters? Fuck me. Beautiful and smart.
This is her third club and she has references…
If she’s got these degrees, why is she still working at the club for me?
There’s a link to her social media and I fall immediately into the rabbit hole of her strong legs and pole dancing.
Video after video of her suspended in the air from a single leg around the pole. She maintains crazy height, sometimes spinning at a pace I could never imagine. In some she’s moving up and down the pole likegravity just doesn’t exist. It’s hypnotizing and some of the videos loop repeatedly before I realize I’ve been watching the same thirty-second clip for five minutes.
My dick is hard as fuck picturing her putting on a show just for me. At the same time, irrational fury assaults me thinking about how many people have gotten the private show I want to keep for myself.
I haven’t seen her do any of this in real life and now I’m considering pulling her from the floor so she only works in the private room for me.
Need to see her soak my fucking knife like she did again. The same knife I’ve ended countless lives with, stained red so often it has its own rep.
I almost went back on my word and shoved my dick deep inside her.Fuck, I wanted to.I didn’t even have any rubbers. That’s how sure I was that I wouldn’t be fucking anyone.
And if I hadn’t stopped when I did, I probably would have tried to fuck her raw. Have my nut seeping out of those fat pussy lips so I could stuff it back inside her with my knife again.
What the fuck am I saying?
Vert comes into the office and the music from today’s video is still playing on repeat. I know he knows how many times it’s played at this point. She captioned it, “warming up for tonight” with a blue heart emoji after it.
A blue fucking heart.
Goddamn.
She’s twirling slowly around the pole with both legs wrapped around and her hands trailing over her fuck-me body. She’s got on another of those shiny, minuscule outfits—tight and tiny.
I’m already itching for my blade to take all of it off.
“We headin’ over there, boss?” Vert finally asks from the doorway. I had forgotten he came in to be completely honest.
“Yea,” I respond.
One night, became two nights, became three nights of watching Diamond twirl around the pole and stroll through the club like she was the one who owned this fucking place—not me.
