“They want me to start giving lap dances tonight,” she says, and I feel a visible shiver go down her spine. “The manager told me I didn't have to at first, but now he's saying some of his best regulars are interested in me. He kind of insinuated I do it or get fired.”
I sit back on my heels and try to breathe. Who the hell am I to tell Brooke what to do? What I want to say is grab your shit and let's bail. But then what? Does that make me responsible for whatever happens to her and the kids? What if she drops out of school or something because she can't find another gig?
“He can't do that,” I tell her and she shrugs as she sits up. “It's fucking illegal as hell.”
“So? He'll just deny he ever said it. California's an at-will state anyway. He can just fire me and pretend it had nothing to do with the lap dances.” Brooke glances away as I stand up and reach down to touch her chin, encouraging her to look at me.
“Remember what I told you that first night? Don't do anything that compromises you, Brooke, that makes you feel like you're worth less than you are. I meant that. If you don't want to do this, don't.”
“I feel like I don't have a choice,” she whispers as she leans forward, and I realize this is about more than just the job or the lap dances, this is about me and the kids and her sister and this stupid fucking Podunk town. It's everything coming together in one angry mass. “I can't do this. I'm only twenty-two. Bella and I are only fifteen years apart. How am I supposed to parent her when I'm not even sure how to be an adult myself?”
Tears start to bead on Brooke's lashes as I flop my body onto the sofa and pull her against me for an old fashioned Zayden Roth snuggle. From what I hear, I'm pretty good at these although I don't hand 'em out often.
“You're a good snuggler,” Brooke sniffles out beneath my chin, her head tucked there like this is where she belongs. “This feels so good.”
“Yeah, well, keep that shit to yourself, okay? Word gets out and all the women in this club will be paying me to take them back here.”
Brooke laughs a little as I rub a hand in a smooth circle on her back, the smell of her hair and perfume invading my senses and finding their way straight down to my dick. I feel so goddamn guilty, but I can't help but be turned on with her sitting on my lap like this. The midriff shirt, the miniskirt, and the glitter don't exactly help.
I am suuuuuch a goddamn piece of shit.
“Zayden,” she whispers as she sits up and looks me in the face, her makeup smeared and sitting on this dangerous edge between sexy and cute.
Awwwwww, man.
I am screwed.
Completely and utterly screwed.
I reach my hands up and place them on either side of Brooke's throat as she sighs and spreads her knees just a little wider, settling the warmth of her pussy right over the bulge in my slacks. I bring her face to mine for a kiss, dominating the action with my hungry mouth and drawing a whimper from her throat. She's vulnerable right now, and I shouldn't be doing this but … Brooke rocks her hips against me and I feel a jolt of wild energy that's nearly impossible to control. Unless she tells me no, this is happening.
My hands hold Brooke's face in a firm but gentle grip, keeping her chin tilted up, her eyes focused on mine as she starts to move against me, giving me one of those lap dances she's so scared of. But guess what? I don't have to keep my hands on the damn armrests. Instead, I slide them down to Brooke's shoulders and then trail my fingertips over her arms.
She shivers and then lifts them up, putting her hands behind my neck as she works my body like she's been doing this for years. Must be instinct. Pure fucking instinct.
I kiss the glitter off Brooke's chest before my hands slide up her belly and under that ridiculously sexy half-shirt, finding her tits encased in a lacy bra. I pop one breast over the wire and shove the t-shirt out of my way to get access to the pebbled pink point of her nipple.
She tastes sweet, clean and soapy, but also a little bit like salt from the sweat of her performance. If I wasn't already about to blow my load … eh, I'm actually pretty much there already.
“Holy shit, Brooke,” I have to lean back and drop my hands to her hips, trying to slow her movements before I finish in my slacks. “If you don't stop that—” She cuts me off with a moan, putting her hand over my mouth as she arches her back and presses her breasts against my chest.
Watching her use me to get off like that?
Turns. Me. The. Fuck. On.
I flip Brooke over onto the tufted leather sofa, shoving her skirt up as I dig in the pocket of my suit jacket for a condom. They spill out and over the floor as I snatch one and put it on with record speed—record fucking speed, baby.
There's no time to take Brooke's thong off, so I just shove the piece of flimsy fabric aside and bury myself deep into her with a hard thrust. Her raw scream of pleasure drives me forward without mercy, burying myself all the way to the hilt with each movement. My piercings are hitting all the right places in this position, teasing her G-spot, turning that face of hers as pink as her eyeshadow.