Page 5 of Forbidden Fruit

“No! No, no, no, no.” I press my face into my hands, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “I’m not a sex worker. Nothing wrong with sex work, but I’m a waitress. I was working at the Happy Frog and before that at the Shamrock. I was hoping to do it here. My hours are flexible, and I don’t mind cleaning and anything you need.”

Jade looks at me with a smile and raises her hands in a placating motion. Probably to keep me from rambling some more. “Alright, babe. Turns out, I’m short a staff member who’s out sick this week, but I can’t promise any more than that for now. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes, yes, absolutely,” I nod enthusiastically. I can’t believe it was that easy.

“If you’re available tomorrow night, you can consider it your trial shift. What’s your name again?”

“Vanessa.”

Jade shows me around the club and I look around in awe as we step behind a hidden door reserved for employees. Even this space is luxurious. The large kitchen and lounge area are welcoming, with brand new appliances. The last door opens to a locker room. But a fancy one. The lockers are a slick black matte with a combination code to lock them and the room gives way to a row of five individual showers. I bet I wouldn’t have to time myself if I showered here.

“This is the back door. Come at six thirty. Roman will let you in. We open at seven.”

When I leave, my steps have a lightness to them I didn’t think I’d find so fast. I’m taking control over my life, and it’s gonna be brilliant.

FOUR

WORKING FOR AN ADULT CLUB WILL GET YOU HORNY

My first shift has been an absolute disaster.

I don’t expect the space to be so dark. Nor the noises of sex all around me to make me blush and sputter over my own words like my tongue isn’t my own.

I’m only an hour into my trial shift and I already spilled a drink on a naked couple who were fucking like no one was watching—or maybe exactly like the whole club was watching. In my defence, how was I supposed to know they’d change position while I approached their table and I’d have to manoeuvre out of their way in order to not touch their unmentionables?

I apologise profusely and set the new, full glasses on the table in front of them without another glance in their direction.

When lights shine on the dais in the middle of what’s called the living room—basically the bar area and antechamber to the private spaces—I lose all sense of professionalism and just stare, my limbs anchored where I stand with an empty tray aloft in my hand.

The most gorgeous human I’ve ever seen steps onto the stage. With a sharp clean-shaven jaw, a strong nose with a golden piercing that glints in the light, and a strong brow, thisman’s face is a work of art. His afro is cropped on the sides and wavy on top, giving him a boyish look that clearly works for him. He’s only wearing loose-fitting pants, and the muscled umber brown skin of his chest glows under the spotlight.

Extending a hand to the shadows, he invites a graceful figure to step onto the stage next to him. The woman is naked, giving the public a full view of the rosy flesh that rolls at her stomach and hips. I try and fail not to gawk at her heavy breasts and puckered nipples, but she’s gorgeous and it’s hard to look away. I’m desperate to know what they will be up to. The desire coursing through my veins is potent and heady, making me forget that I have a job to do.

But everyone’s eyes are riveted to the spectacle in front of us and no one hails me for a refill, so I stay where I am and continue to stare.

A third person joins the couple.

I recognise him instantly.

Air gets stuck in my lungs and I almost take a step further to see him better. His gaze lifts to where I am. Even though I’m hidden in the shadows, it’s like he can see me; like he can feel my presence.

He’s fully clothed, which is a shocking contrast to his partners. His well-cut black shirt is open just enough for me to peek at a chiselled chest dusted with dark hair. His glasses give him an air of authority that is in sharp contrast to his two companions.

Without a word or a smile, both he and the other man take hold of ropes that I didn’t even notice at the side of the stage, and bind the woman in tight knots.

My mouth dries and I lick my lips as I watch them working in sync.

The man with the glasses looks so much more relaxed; like the ropes in his hands are his medicine for a heavy heart. His brow unfurrows in front of my eyes. I’m mesmerised.

He doesn’t touch the woman he’s binding more than necessary, whereas the other man luxuriates in her body, kissing her neck, her breasts, the inside of her thighs, making her sigh and moan with his ministrations.

My panties dampen under the short pleated skirt I’m wearing, my pulse erratic in my ears. I’m so focused on the display that I jump up when Jade touches my shoulder.

“I know they’re hot and all, but table six has been trying to get your attention for ten minutes, babe,” she says with amusement.

Thank God the space is dark, so she can’t see my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I get to the table and take the order, doing my best to avoid the three beautiful people on the daisandthe man bouncing on the cock of the other one who’s dictating his order to me like I’m just the secretary at his job.

This is going to be the longest six hours of my life.

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