Page 12 of Dirty Rock

“Like this song, doll?” she asked as she bent over, grabbed her ankles tightly, and sashayed her arse in front of my face.

“Not really,” I breathed out, feeling myself growing hard. I rasped out the first few lines of lyrics in time with the female vocalist on Stevie V’s track anyway.

Candy spun gracefully, making her body glide around until she was in front of me, her legs straddling mine as she ran her hands through her hair.

“You think money talks?” she asked, her voice like oil over my dick.

“I think money can get you anything you want in life if you have enough of it.”

“Anything? What about me?”

“Especially you.”

Candy ran her tongue over her bottom lip, her arse dropping lower now so her cheeks grazed my thighs. “How much do you think someone like me would cost you?”

“Well… your head wants me to tell you you’re worth a million. Your heart says you’d let me fuck you for free.”

For the first time since I entered the booth, she faltered. It was barely a split second of her eyes freezing and her hands stilling in her hair before she corrected herself, but I saw it. I saw the way my words sliced through her confidence. Truths like that hurt people who thought they kept their shit well hidden.

“How old are you?” I asked, my smirk firmly in place as she carried on working me up by letting her lips hover over mine.

“How old do you want me to be?”

“I don’t care as long as you’re legal and available.”

Candy’s face slipped again, and she looked behind me at the screen before she strapped on her bright smile and let her eyes fall to mine. “Definitely legal.”

“But not available.” I gave her a half-smile, a lazy acknowledgement of the predicament she was in.

Candy wanted to fuck me because I was Rhett Ryan. I was her ticket out of the strip life. One sale of a story and she could cover her firm little titties, send a kid off to school, and maybe sign up for night school herself.

Suited me.

She stepped away and performed a little strut across the small space. When she was far enough away, she cracked on with her routine, her hands on every part of her body while her eyes fucked me from a distance. It was a skill, to be able to make a man hard with nothing more than a well-timed narrowed eye and a lick of the lips. Candy had that skill. She owned that experience. The subtle looks she flashed towards the screen behind me didn’t go unnoticed, and I was getting off on this being forbidden more than I was getting off on actually wanting her.

When you can have everything for nothing, you crave nothing at the cost of everything.

Our mutual silence spoke volumes, and I never looked away as she took her time to tease me. When she drew near again, her hands landed on the leather seat behind me, and her tits flirted with my lips while I looked up at her with nothing more than narrowed eyes and suspended seduction.

Bring it, Candy. Bring it.

Her mouth eventually fell to my ear, a soft whisper brushing over my lobe. “You got security with you?”

“One,” I mouthed back, barely a sound. “He’s removable.”

“Get rid of him. Meet me out the back in thirty?”

I smirked as the sweet scent of all her lotions washed over me, making me heave in a breath, only to blow it out slowly through my nostrils.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” It was all I needed to say for her nipples to get hard, and for her to push herself away from me to finish her routine.

She did what she had to do to satisfy those who were paying her wages, and I sat there like a motherfucking teen, my hand palming my dick as I took her in.

I couldn’t wait to do something I shouldn’t be doing.

I couldn’t wait to feel free.

* * *

---