Page 4 of His Personal Stripper

Chapter Two

Jack sensed her nerves. Rachel gripped the bag in her hands, and he saw her knuckles were white.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” he said.

She looked toward him, before turning her gaze away. They were in complete privacy as he’d put up the partition between himself and Wallace. He didn’t want her to freak out.

“You knew where I lived, and I don’t know what you want. What I’m going to agree to. Take your pick. I need to be nervous.”

“I know everything there is to know about you, Rachel Sterling. You’ve had a lot of bad luck lately. The company you worked for went bust, and since then no one wants to hire you. You’re a perfect fit for a lot of work, but for some strange reason they won’t extend that chance to you, even with your awesome references. You’re a good person, always willing to help, and you work hard. You’re a foster kid. No college education, but you’re smart. You could have gone to college. Your life has been hit by one bad break after another.”

He reached out, tucking some of those blonde locks behind her ear. They had to be real. Her hair didn’t look like it came out of a box. Also, a woman who’d been living from meal to meal didn’t have the money to spend to make her hair look that good.

“Is that supposed to make me happy? You know way more about me than I do you.”

Jack smiled. “Don’t worry. That tends to be the case. A lot of people don’t know jack about me.” She took a deep breath, and he simply basked in watching her. “I like looking at you.”

“What job do you want me to do?”

“Everything that pleases me.”

“Sex.”

“Not just sex. Right now, I’m getting a lot of pleasure just by looking at you. Don’t always think that it has to be the physical.”

“Are you going to turn me into a whore?” she asked. “Pass me around to your friends?”

“You don’t become one of the world’s wealthiest men by sharing, Rachel. Nor do I have friends. I’m a selfish bastard. Don’t mistake me for anything more. I want you, no one else. I don’t share, and I have no intention of doing so. Whatever I ask of you will be about serving me, only me.”

“Is this like a master and slave thing?” she asked.

“You are adorable, and no, I don’t do that. I don’t want a slave. I want a woman. A woman who wants me just as badly as I want her.”

She sighed. “None of this makes any sense. How can you know you want someone that badly by just looking at them?”

“I’m not like most guys.”

“You’re not.”

Wallace parked outside of his country estate, and Jack climbed out, moving around toward Rachel’s side of the car. He dismissed his driver, taking her hand.

“What is this place?”

“This is my home.” Leading her inside, he made sure to dismiss his staff and took her straight into his sitting room next to the fire, which was already made up. Closing the door, he turned toward her.

Her saw her taking long, deep breaths. “I won’t hurt you. That I can promise you.” He removed his jacket, putting it on the back of his chair. “What I want from you is simple. I find you pleasing to look at. I’m also not going to bullshit you with pretty words and crap. I took one look at you, and I wanted you. My dick was hard as fucking rock, and I knew without a doubt that you were going to be mine. I want your juicy tits bouncing in front of my face as you ride my cock. I want you underneath me, begging for more, taking my cock any way I wish. That’s not all. I want to spend time with you. I like talking to you, and you don’t seem all that impressed by my luxury. You’re hesitant. You don’t want to trust it, and I respect that. It has been a long time since I’ve had any respect for a woman. I also happen to enjoy … a show.”

“A show?”

“I like to watch a woman strip, and right now, that’s all I want. I want to see you reveal that body to me.”

“You do realize that I’m not considered the norm, right? To some people I’m fat.”

He saw that she didn’t think that. She was merely stating a fact. “I’m not most men. I happen to love your curves, and I can’t wait to see them.” Jack handed her a glass of scotch.

She took it, staring down at the dark amber liquid. “What if I don’t want to do anything? Or if I’m not any good?”

“Then you say the word, and it stops. I’m not going to have orgies, Rachel, or secret meetings with a cult. I’m a single man. A man used to getting what he wants. Now, you can take a chance and experience the most amazing pleasure you’ve ever had in your life, or you can turn around and be on the streets in two days.”

---