Read Taming The Alpha - BBW Paranormal Romance Online
Authors: Adriana Hunter
By
Adriana Hunter
Copyright
© 2013, Adriana Hunter – All Rights Reserved.
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Rights Reserved. This book contains material protected under
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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or
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This
is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and places are
solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, including events,
areas, locations and situations is entirely coincidental.
The club was busy for a Tuesday
night. Nikki Avery watched the crowd from the edge of the dance stage
and empty chairs were few and far between, the bar packed two and
three deep with guys. A crowded place meant good tips and good meant
making rent.
Nikki
watched from the edge of the stage as her friend Lori…
stage
name Lorelei
…finished
up her set, her final athletic gyrations on the stage sending the men
into a complete frenzy. Mack, the club owner had asked…almost
begged… the two of them so many times to do a routine
together. He was convinced the combination of Lori’s taught,
angular body and silky blonde hair played against Nikki’s ample
curves and waves of chestnut hair would get the entire place
pumped—translate: hard—beyond all distraction. Mack
reasoned getting an entire room of men turned on quickly was better
for business.
But
she and Lori had refused so far. Just because they were friends, and
he’s seen them share the occasional kiss and cuddle in the
dressing room or alley didn’t mean they wanted to take that on
stage. Mack had backed off for now, but Nikki knew he’d be
after them again.
Lori’s
music ended and as she walked off the stage past Nikki, she gave her
a sharp smack on her ass.
“
Hey!”
Nikki spun around, hand on her backside.
“
For
good luck, sweetheart. Besides, I love your ass…all of it. And
I wanted to be the first one of the night who got to slap it.”
Lori sashayed her way to the dressing room, hips swinging, putting as
much into her walk as she could, while batting her eyelashes at Nikki
over her shoulder.
Nikki’s music started and
she let the first few bars of
Welcome
to the Jungle
play
before she strutted onto the stage. Catcalls and whistles greeted her
as she danced her way into the light and toward the crowd.
The
other girls teased her for using what they called old-school music,
but there was nothing like Axl Rose’s screaming voice to get
the crowd wound up, and to get her own heart pumping. And for those
who knew the song – those old enough to remember - they’d
recognize her costume, the short skirt and sheer black stockings,
with the seam up the back, from the brief glimpse of the girl in the
opening shots of the video.
Even
if they didn’t catch it, it didn’t matter; she really
wasn’t dressed for very long anyway. She liked the song well
enough, and began slowly stripping, the sheer blouse first to go,
then the skirt, down to just the stockings and garter belt, sheer
black bra and her ridiculously high heels. ‘Fuck me’
pumps, as Lori called them. More like break an ankle pumps. But they
did make her legs long a mile long.
She
worked her way down the stage, her body moving to the beat, feeling
wonderful, lush and sexy and erotic. It got her all wound up, got her
hot sometimes even though it wasn’t where she wanted to be. But
it was her job and she might as well enjoy some part of it.
Sometimes,
just to make the night bearable she’d pick one guy in the crowd
and dance just for him, even if he couldn’t see she was looking
at him. That one guy was her focus and she’d dance to images of
his hands on her body, his mouth on hers, bending her over a table
and taking her hard. For that one dance, she’d make him into
her ideal man. But when her dance was finished, she never sought that
man out, never. It would have ruined whatever fantasy she’d
created while she wiggled and shimmied her way through her set.
She
wished there really was just one guy she could dance for, someone who
wants her for her and not because she was a cheap stripper in a seedy
club under the Interstate. Not a married guy out looking for a quick
slap and tickle, but a man who would truly love her. And take her
away from all of this.
Sometimes,
after her routine was finished, she was so full of pent up sexual
energy, and tension, that working her way through the crowd was
exactly what she wanted. The hands that touched her when they
shouldn’t. The power she felt when she sat some guy in a chair
in a private room, knowing he had a hard on because of her, and then
taking him to the edge, over and over, never really touching him,
doing it all with just the movements of her body, her eyes, her
words. It was a perverse kind of power, but power nonetheless. And
then taking their money.
Sometimes
she’d come close to an orgasm, her body infused with arousal,
throbbing and aching for release. But not with any of these men.
Never. It was nights like that when she’d find Lori. And then
it would all be better. As much as she loved men, Lori did things to
her, knew her in a way no one else did, understood her like no one
else. It wasn’t perfect and even though it took care of that
one physical need, it still left her feeling empty, aching for
something else, a deeper connection. But she pushed that need aside.
Nikki
was on her hands and knees now, back arched, slinking her way to the
end of the narrow strip of stage that extended into the crowd. There
were a few guys who grabbed at her, but she skillfully avoided them.
There were always a few.
By
the end of the song, she was at the end of the stage, eye level with
the guys sitting closest. She recognized a few, gave them that
special smile she reserved just for them, and gyrated through the
last few bars of the song.
As
the music stopped and she stood, looking up, eyes sliding over the
tables of hooting men, the same every night, all turned on by the
fantasy she created. The lights were hot and blinding, but through
them she saw him. Or she thought she did, hoped she did. Her heart
skipped a beat.
Tall,
black hair, staring right at her. Again. He’d been there for
three nights running and she’d hoped he’d be standing
there tonight, watching her. She could never find him while she
danced and she didn’t want to. But when she was finished, she’d
look up and there he’d be. Their eyes would meet and for a
brief moment all the noise and smells and chaos of the club would
fade.
Nikki
had no idea who he was, or what he did to her, but he took her breath
away. And it bothered her that she even noticed him at all, that
she’d started looking for him. Customers weren’t supposed
to turn into anything other than money in her pocket. Getting
attached to one meant trouble. She’d seen it happen all around
her and she knew better.
But
for the last three nights, by the time she’d gotten dressed and
came back out on the floor, he’d be gone. While there were
always regulars in the club, guys who came just to see here, she’d
never missed them if they weren’t there and she never went
searching for them, anticipated seeing them…wanted to see
them. She never let herself care. Caring was too dangerous.
Lori
was lounging in the dressing room, wearing a sheer robe, long legs
crossed, perched on the edge of the sagging couch, long legs crossed.
Nikki made a bee-line for her locker, pulling out filmy bits of
clothing, flinging most of it to the floor in frustration, searching
for the perfect outfit.
“
You
late for something, Nikki?” Lori sat up, watching Nikki
intently through a haze of cigarette smoke. “Oh, wait. Your
mystery guy is out there, right? I knew it.”
Lori
leaned back, idly swinging one leg as she watched Nikki frantically
pulling on a pair of fishnet stockings.
“
You
know Mack wants us to mingle, not play favorites. Even if the guy is
drop dead gorgeous. And…” Lori rose, stubbing out her
cigarette, stretching her arms over her head. “Even if he
smells divine.”
Nikki
whirled around. “How do you know what he smells like?”
Lori
laughed. “You should see the look on your face, love.”
She walked over, reaching out, pinching Nikki’s cheek. “I
have no idea what he smells like. But you’re smitten, kitten.
And that’s not wise. Mixing business with pleasure is a recipe
for disaster and you know it.”
“
Don’t
you have some place to be, like out on the floor?” Nikki was
pulling a pink baby doll top over her head, adjusting the top to
accommodate her ample breasts. Lori leaned against the wall,
watching.
“
Yeah,
I’m getting there. Needed a rest. Rough night this morning.”
Her eyes traveled over Nikki’s body. “You need help
getting dressed? I’d be happy to lend you a hand.”
Nikki
slapped Lori’s hand away, laughing. “I’m perfectly
capable of getting dressed myself, doll.” She gave the skimpy
top of her outfit another tug. “There’s just a little
more of me than there is of this outfit.”
“
I
can see that.” Lori pushed herself away from the wall. “In
your line of work, less is more, you know. Less clothing, that is.
Not less of you.” She dropped her robe to the floor, checking
the reflection of her tawny body in the mirror.
“
I
see how the guys look at you and then think I should put on a couple
pounds.” She ran her hands down her sides, over her flat
stomach, turning side to side.
Nikki
frowned at her friend. “Why on earth would you do that? You’re
beautiful, just like you are.”
“
Yeah.
I know…but sometimes. I see how the guys look at you.”
Lori caught Nikki’s gaze in the mirror. “All those lush
curves, big boobs, hips they can hang on to. They must imagine
fucking you is like diving into a vat of whipped cream…sweet
and soft and delicious.”
There
was nothing Nikki could do, but laugh. She bent over, dragging a
brush through her hair, trying to get it big and sexy. She flipped it
back, smoothing the top.
“
I
guess that’s all I can do.” She pushed in front of Lori
at the mirror. “Excuse me…some of us have to work for a
living.” Lori sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes for effect
and sauntered over to her locker.
Nikki
ran a finger across her lipstick, wiping away an errant smudge,
inspecting her eyeliner and mascara. She glanced over at Lori,
half-dressed, still bare foot. She scowled, tapping her foot.
Lori
grabbed a black g-string, pulling it up her narrow hips and then
started tugging on a black leather bustier that fit her like a second
skin. She waved her hand in Nikki’s general direction.
“
Go
on. You’re going to miss him if you wait for me.” She
winked. Nikki left the cramped, dingy dressing room, a strange mix of
anticipation and dread settling into the pit of her stomach. Recipe
for disaster said it all, but the thrill outweighed all thought of
caution.
The
crowd was facing the stage, watching the next dancer, someone new
that Nikki didn’t know. She thought her stage name was Neon,
but she wasn’t sure. And right now, she didn’t really
care. Her eyes were scanning the back of the room, searching for any
tall man with dark hair. But there wasn’t anyone that looked
like her guy.