Doc - A Club Alias Novel - Page 67

It’s that look of possession, combined with the sudden sense of power that it’s my body making him lose control, that causes me to clench around him, and my eyes roll back in my head.

And for the first time with a man inside me, I explode, screaming his name out to the ceiling, my whole body convulsing, and I feel his cock swell within me as he thrusts into me one more time, slamming my hips down on him as he jerks inside my walls that grip him like a fist, never wanting to let him go. I feel the warmth as he fills me with his seed, doing exactly as I begged and washing away everything that was there before him, cleansing me there. Cleansing my soul.

I collapse on his chest, hearing his heart thunder beneath my ear, and smile knowing I did that to him. That we did that together. I feel mine thrashing against his abs, and I know in that moment, it’s finally healed.Chapter 16Doc“Told ya,” Astrid tells me, holding her phone in front of my face a few days later, while I stand at the kitchen counter, and I see the Google page she has pulled up. “Strip club.”

I take the phone from her hand and click on the link, and the site that comes up is that of a high-class strip club that requires a log-in to look past the pictures of the establishment.

“I looked up the address on the card Crystal gave me the other day, but we’ve been too… busy with other things every night, and I forgot to tell you until she reminded me today in class. She said their other girl quit last week; I guess she’s moving or something. And they’re looking to hire someone stat, because apparently they need full-faces of stage makeup and no one is really good at it themselves.”

The “busy” my woman is referring to is the fact that I’ve made love to her every night since the first time we did it. She’s insatiable, wonderous of all the new feelings her body is experiencing, and I’m only too happy to provide them.

“Have you talked to her about the job, as far as the pay and the hours?” I ask, knowing that if it’s a strip club, it would mean she would work at night. And I’m selfish of my time with her.

“Yes,” she replies. “I would work two hours a night before the club actually opens, and I would make forty dollars per face. There’s normally about ten girls who dance during the week and about twenty on the weekends. They’re going to try to find a second makeup artist so I wouldn’t have to work every night and we could alternate schedules.”

I’m still leery of the situation, how it came about. It just seems odd to me that she would have asked Astrid if she needed a job before she ever knew she was a makeup artist.

“I thought it through, and I really want to take the job. Although it would take time away from you, it’s only two hours a night, and that’s just too much money for me to give up when I’m trying to save for school.” She pauses to take a sip of water from her bottle. “And it’s not like I’m stripping or anything.” The thought makes me growl, but she ignores me. “I’m doing what I love, actually using my skills as a makeup artist. And then I’ll be home before they even turn the music on and throw the first dollar bill.”

I hand her the phone back with a sigh, knowing I can’t really argue with her logic, and if I were to take out my feelings about having to share her during the time I usually get with her after work, then I would agree this is an amazing opportunity.

“Fine, but I get to go with you the first time to scope out the place,” I tell her, and she crosses her arms and cocks her hip.

“I think not, Neil,” she snaps, and I lift a brow. “One, do you really think I want you going into a strip club, where girls will be in next to nothing while I do their faces? Especially after the way a group of those exact women were eye-fucking you at that first barre class?”

“Goddess, you do realize I’m part owner of a club that, not only do the women walk around in next to nothing, but they’re also permitted to wear nothing at all… not to mention while being fucked behind closed curtains or in front of everyone, right?” I smirk.

“That’s different.”

I scoff. “How?”

“Because those women like, belong to someone. They have Doms who like… keep them on a leash to keep them from going up to you. Literally and figuratively,” she says with conviction, but as the words leave her mouth, she doesn’t seem too sure.

Tags: K.D. Robichaux Romance
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