Page 12 of The Dollhouse

I wanted a bad one. A dirty one. I wanted a man who wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted and never apologize for it.

I wanted a man like Roman.

Chapter Four – Roman

Carter and I sat at one of the tables beside the stage at the Dollhouse. We’d gotten here a bit early at my insistence, all to wait for her. Zoey Marbella. She was nineteen years old, from a well-off family a state away. Until recently, she’d been going to college, but something happened to make her run.

Oh, yes. I’d looked into her after getting her full name from Autumn. It was only a matter of time until I knew everything there was to know about her.

The music was loud, though no woman danced on the stage yet. The Dollhouse wasn’t as full as it was on weekends, but I didn’t doubt there would be more who would trickle in as the hour grew late and the moon rose higher in the night sky.

I tugged on my tie, loosening it up somewhat as my eyes landed on Carter. The man sat beside me, eyeing up the place. Though his gaze lingered on the bodies of the women working, I knew he was keeping a careful watch on everyone else. At any given time, he knew the best course of exit, who could possibly pose us the greatest threat. Always on alert, always ready, even when his cock was shoved into a mouth or a pussy.

Eventually, those green eyes of his landed on me. “What are we doing here, Roman?” he asked, his jaw hardly moving as he spoke. He ran a hand through the brown hair on top of his head, sighing out a loud breath I could hear over the music’s beat. Unlike me, he did not wear a suit; he did, however, wear all black.

A small round table sat between us, two glasses of whiskey on it. The good stuff. The shit that made you wince as you drank it.

I reached for my glass, taking a small sip, leaning back as I set the glass on my knee. “You know why.”

“The new girl—”

“Zoey,” I growled out her name, giving him a glare.

Carter’s posture straightened. He knew better than to make any comments regarding her and my thoughts about her, but since he’d known me for so long, he felt comfortable enough to say, “I just don’t get it, Roman. She’s pretty, sure, but so is everyone else here.”

“I don’t care. I need her.”

“And you’ll have her, but do we really need to stick around and wait for her?” Carter was itching to either leave or take someone in the back and have at her like the animal he was. I’d made him hold back lately, waiting for Zoey, which I believe only exacerbated the issue with him.

I frowned. “Go wait near the door. The moment she walks in, bring her to me.”

He knew better than to argue. Carter stood, brushing past my knees as he left, taking his drink with him. I sipped from the glass again, itching to see her.

Perhaps it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about her these last few days. The hollow look in her eyes, the almost morbid curiosity when it came to what we did in that backroom. The bright hue of her hair, the tattoo lining her side… tattoos on a woman were always sexy.

There was something about her that instantly drew me in. I needed to know more about her, needed to see her again. Maybe, after watching her body give in to Carter’s, I wouldn’t be nearly as obsessed with her. It was quite possible that’s all I needed.

Still, it somehow felt different when it came to her. I could not say why.

The already dim lights near the stage dimmed even more as the music changed. A woman sauntered her way to the pole, putting on a show. She was pretty enough; a short, lean body, small but firm tits. Ruby, she called herself here.

Yet another thing that separated Zoey from everyone else. Zoey used her real name. She’d been a fool, because with that I had access to everything.

I watched Ruby on the stage because there was nothing else to watch. The way she moved those hips, how flexible she was… she certainly could put on a show. My mind instantly replaced her body and face with Zoey’s, imagining her up there, dancing for only me.

That girl would be mine. Mark my words. I would make her mine, and she would learn to like it.

I couldn’t say how long it was until Carter returned with a stunning pink-haired beauty in tow, but it was a while. When she stood before me, giving me a glare, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself as I got up. Still holding onto my glass, I gestured for her and Carter to follow me into the back.

They both did, seeing as how neither of them had any other choices.

Carter must’ve grabbed her the very second she walked in, for she still wore her jacket, zipped up to her collarbone. Her gaze was a bit wilder than it had been on her first night, and my body warmed up when I pictured that expression glazed over in carnal bliss.

I gestured for Carter to wait near the door, to block her from exiting, slow to sit in the same chair I always did. Meeting her eyes, I took a slow sip of whiskey, baring my teeth at her as I swallowed it.

“I’ve missed you, Zoey,” I murmured, my voice a low rumbling in my chest. Whether or not she believed me was her prerogative, but I did. I missed her almost an unreasonable amount, something I’d never done to any of the other women here.

She was different, and she called out to me like no one else did, a primal urge to take her as mine.

---