His Price (2 page)

Butterflies shot through my belly, my nerves sparked with electricity.

What the hell? Stop it, Noella! You can't get excited over a customer!

I didn't know where these feelings had boiled up from. He was just another guy, here at the strip club, only to get off in some way. No different than anyone else; that's why they all came here.

“I can't promise I won't try and grab that sweet ass of yours,” he said, biting his lower lip.

“Those are the rules. I can go find someone else. There are plenty of men here to choose from.”

He pulled a large roll of money from his pocket. “I have a lot of time on my hands, do you have the time for me?”

“Look, Buddy, money talks to some of these girls and they don't give a fuck what you do to them. I can go get one of them right now if that's what you're looking for. But I just dance, that's it. I'm not a whore.” Folding my arms over my chest, one leg shot out to the side.

His stare fell from my face to my leg, eyes walking over the bare skin, tongue running across his bottom lip. “Fair enough, then dance already,” he said, jerking his head up to the ceiling.

If this guy even tries to lay a finger on me, he's going to end up with my heel in his face.

Closing my eyes, I listened to the sounds filling the room. Rocking my hips, I gyrated towards him, letting the music fill my body, rolling to its beat. I placed my hands on his shoulders, pussy swaying against his pants.

Most of the men I'd danced for talked while I was working. They would tell me I looked beautiful, how I had a nice body, anything to try and get me to go a step further.

I waited for this stranger to do the same, but he didn't.

Annoyance started to fill my gut; he was sitting motionless, no words crawling out over his tongue. “You have a name?” I asked. Bending over in front of him, I ran my hands up over my ass, pushing the fabric up towards my back.

“Does it matter?” His palm rested on the table, fingers spread wide. His free hand rolled the wad of cash aimlessly.

“I was just asking. But fine, sit there like a mute. Doesn't matter to me.” Whipping my hair around, I peered at him over my shoulder.

“It's Hegan.” Pulling a five dollar bill from his roll, he tucked it into the diamond cut out on the small of my back. “How about you just dance and if I have a question I'll ask you.”

“My god you're a prick, huh?” Turning to face him, I slid a leg over his lap, grinding down.

I could feel his cock, enlarged and bulging through his jeans.
Well he can't say he's not turned on.
I tried not to laugh out loud, but a slight giggle escaped my lips.

“What?” he asked, muscles twitching around his brow.

“Nothing, I'm just glad to know you're at least enjoying this.” Smiling brightly, I got pleasure from his arousal. Pressing down onto his lap, the warmth of my panties surprised me.

I never got turned on at work; I tried hard to stay focused but this guy had started to soak me from the inside out. The wetness had begun to coat my thighs, my clit swelled to the forming mass beneath me.

Pushing off of his lap, I stepped back, my eyes wide and confused over the desire he was driving into my core. Gazing at the dampened flesh of his arms, I saw the sweat trickling over his temples. I had the urge to drag him in the back and let him have his way with me.

Alright, settle down. Focus! Focus! He's a customer, don't let him pull you in.

“What's wrong? Feel something you like?” His grin widened as his hand gripped the bulge between his legs.

“Stop it, this dance can end right now.” Nervously I ran my fingers through my hair, my breathing intensified as my ribs stretched to their limits.

He was making me nervous as hell, and honestly... I enjoyed it.

His eyes froze on me, their deep green color almost black under the lights. I watched his jaw cock out to the side, making him look like he was cut from steel. His muscles pulsed, shirt contracting around each hardened arm as they thickened.

Suddenly, I felt like he was dancing for me. The way his body shifted in the chair, hard-on pinned against his jeans, sent me into overdrive.

“Hey, you're the one who set the rules; I'm doing just as you asked. Sitting here, not touching you. I can't stop you from seeping all over my leg. But I'm not surprised; you're not the first woman to cream from just touching me.”

This guy thinks he's God's gift to the world, and I'm the one losing control.
I didn't need his money, there were other men to dance for. I wanted to just turn and walk away, but my feet felt heavy as cement, legs weak at the knees.

He was fucking hot as hell and not like any of the other guys that strolled in here. I only saw guys like him during a bachelor party, the rest of the time it was gross perverts, looking to get laid, or as close as they could to it.

“What? Nothing to say? Come on, babe, finish the dance already, before I get bored.” Palming his erection, he draped his tongue over his teeth.

I sat in silence for longer than I had realized. “Fuck you,” I hissed through my lips.

“I can tell you want to, you're just as hot between those thighs as the air in this dump. But you said no touching, remember?”

He wants to play, huh? I'm going to make him want me so bad it hurts. Then I'll leave him hard and solo.

Hegan was trying to challenge me; I'd seen it before. The way he slouched in his chair, cock pressing against his zipper, a shit eating grin on his face; he was used to being in charge.

But I was going to teach him a lesson.

Not every woman would crumble to his poison.

Digging my palms into my ribs, I pulled them up to my breasts, squeezing them together, the warmed flesh spilled over the seams. Walking closer to him, I leaned in, his nose inches from my mounds; parting my lips I exhaled across his cheek.

The heat hit his skin and I watched him shudder. Hegan's movement was subtle, but I caught it. The shock moved from his head to his legs, hips twitching against the seat.

Slipping my thumbs beneath the silk straps, I peeled them away from my shoulders, his eyes frozen on my body. My large plump breasts spilled from beneath the fabric, bouncing in front of his face, nipples grazing the stubble of his jaw.

I knew he was getting dragged in, trapped in my web of seduction. It seemed he had forgotten that in this world, I was the master of illusion, the goddess of ecstasy. I was paid to make men imagine their wildest dreams.

And I was fucking good at it.

His chest rose quickly with the burst of skin, fingers tightening around the seat; I watched his knuckles drain to white.

“You like that, don't you?” My eyes rode the muscles of his chest down to his cock. “Yeah, I can see you do. But that measly five dollar bill isn't going to cut it, Sweetheart.” Forcing my tits together, I dragged my tongue over one nipple. “Honestly, you're lucky you even got as much as you did.”

Hegan flipped three hundred dollar bills out, slipping them in the crease of my breasts. “Happy?”

He seemed so unfazed, tossing the money like it meant nothing. That was more than most men came in here with. And by the look of it, he had plenty more where that came from.

What the hell does he do for work? It can't be legal, or he's just trying to play the part like the rest of us in here.

He looked young, in his twenties. Too young to be carrying that kind of cash. And he certainly wasn't dressed like he was loaded.

If we did get a guy in here who had a large bank account, you knew it. The limo would be parked outside, they would be dressed in a tailored suit, hair fixed just right to their skull. Those types screamed-
“I'm rich and have some extra to play with tonight.”

That was not Hegan.

Twisting my back to him, I said, “It'll do for now.” Flashing a quick smile, I bent down. Dragging my nails up the back of my legs, my dress sliding up to show my ass.

“Well, that's all you're getting. Unless...” Hegan fanned out the money. “You want to take this little party elsewhere?”

“Didn't I cover that already? I told you I dance, that's it. I'm not a prostitute.” Flipping my hair back, I shot him a glare.

“Well, you could have fooled me.”

Huffing loudly, I whipped around. My large heels entangled each other; losing my balance I almost fell to the floor. Hegan jolted forward and his firm arms caught me in the air.

Wrapped tightly in his grip, my stomach began to twirl; wild fire and battery acid crept up my throat. Dipping my fingertips into his muscles, I felt his rock hard chest.

The sudden urge to kiss him radiated through my brain.
What the hell am I thinking?! Stop! Get a damn grip!

“Thanks,” I said, pressing against his chest to sit up.

“I just saved your life, you owe me now.” Hegan smiled a devilish grin, eyes fixing on the exposed bare flesh, hard-on in his pants shoving into my lower back.

Jumping from his lap, I scrambled to pull my dress up over my chest. “I'm done here.” I snapped at him, storming off. Taking one last look over my shoulder, I saw Hegan sitting with a shit eating grin painted on his face.

He was a prick. A royal fucking prick, who thought any girl would be lucky to get a piece of him.
If he chose to give it.

How could he just expect that I was going to roll onto my back and let him fuck me?

I wasn't that kind of girl.

And I never would be.

Hegan

I
think I found her. The one I'm going to make mine.

Copper.

She was a fire cracker, a hot spark burning at the core. Her long red hair, the curls that twisted up to her scalp. I wanted to wrap my fingers inside, tug at the strands till her mouth screamed for me to fuck her.

She was perfect, exactly what I needed.

Those plump red lips, shaped so elegantly like a perfect heart, the heat that shot off her tongue with confidence.

I wonder how they would look draped over my cock? Would her tongue twist and turn as tightly as her curls? Would she let me pull her hair till her neck couldn't bend anymore?
That's all I wanted to do, and it took all I had to not try then and there.

My cock stiffened just imagining her ass again. The way she bent over, touching her toes with ease. She was flexible and I wanted to wrap those legs up around her ears, slam my dick deep into her pussy till she was numb all over.

Copper was going to help keep my world running; she had to.

I wasn't giving her a choice. If she didn't do what I needed her to, I would lose everything.

And I wasn't about to do that.

I won't do that.

Closing the door to my silver Porsche, I revved the engine. Turning out of Tigress, I made my way down Thames street. The road was lifeless, no other cars were in sight. Hopping onto Route four, I pushed the engine hard, my heel hitting the floor, speed climbing with each shift of the throttle.

The pounding of my chest matched the hand rising on the dial; fifty, sixty, seventy miles an hour, and still going. Every breath was filled with excitement and cold oxygen as it purged through my body, turning my veins to ice.

I loved driving fast. The feel of the air in my face and the power under the hood; it was the next best thing to a good fuck. I guess you could say I chased the rush, and it'd been that rush I kept grabbing for.

That feeling, the moment your veins harden and you think they might just pop beneath the surface. I couldn't get enough.

I had my fair share of issues with street racing and the cops. But, when you're a twenty-five year old guy and son of a billionaire, people know who you are. Which helped multiple times to get me out of a shitty situation. It only took that one phone call— my dad had the best lawyers— I never spent more than an hour in the holding cell.

And as far as a record goes, that didn't exist either. Money talks and my family had plenty of it.

It also helped that my dad wouldn't stand to have our name corrupted or tainted with any rash decisions I made. It would look bad for the company, and especially bad on him.

A man with his power should have a son that bears the same respect and reserve that he does. The problem was...

I didn't and I never would.

I wasn't a suit wearing jackass, who spent more time in the office than enjoying life's pleasures. What kind of life would that be?

All desk and paperwork with no pussy? No thank you.

My father loathed who I was and what he thought I'd become, I was pretty much sure of that now. After the news he'd given me, it was cemented in my head.

He hated me.

Which is probably why he had dropped a fucking bomb on me a few months back, also on my fucking birthday.
“Hegan, it's time you start thinking about your future. Your legacy.”
My father's words had sent chills across my spine.

I was an only child, an only child who was going to inherit a shit load of fucking money. Enough to last me three lifetimes.

Legacy? I wasn't sure what he was getting at, but he didn't sugar coat it much more than that. He swirled his wine, inhaling the aroma, a gentle sip spilled into his mouth.

My father had gone on to say,
“You need to do something with yourself. You can't spend life just walking around on air. I didn't work this hard for you to eat up everything I made. I want a grandchild, Hegan. And if you don't have an heir for me, you're cut from it all. You will get nothing further from me. Nothing.”

Happy birthday to me, right? A fucking kid!

He expected me to have a kid!

That was something I'd never thought of. I eat pussy like it's a buffet for one; I loved women, all women. And he wanted me to give him a grandchild!

I couldn't believe he had the balls to ask me for that.

At first I'd thought he was joking. A guttural laugh exploded from my throat; my head had fallen back; a hand came down and slapped against my thigh.
He can't be serious!
I thought.

It wasn't until he showed me the legal papers from his lawyer, the papers that had me locked out from everything if I didn't produce a child soon; that's when I knew he was serious. This hadn't been a sick joke, or a wild ruse to get me to find a job.