Read Online Pole Dance by J. A. Hornbuckle - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. A. Hornbuckle
Tags: Dance
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watching Fiona like a hawk and am expecting to, or actually bracing myself for, firing her shapely, demanding ass . Hank's settled but gotta say, man, we're gonna take a whack just to keep his particular ass on board." Jake could almost feel Dale's sigh through the phone. "Should I plan on seeing the place above Buxby's?"
"Yep, the realtor is waiting for your call. Think you'll like it."
"Good enough, I'll call first thing tomorrow. Anything else I need to know?" Jake could tell that Dale was already half out of the conversation and let him go with no further instructions.
A short ride uptown brought Jake to the parking lot of Fuego's where he pulled around back to the far corner where the space was reserved with his name.
Not in the best area of town, though not the worst, the club was one of many businesses that lined the street--a street that you had to have a certain desire to be on in order to rightfully find. Human Hieroglyphics, the local and best tattoo parlor in the county and Bewitchments, the best in the adult-toy trade, bracketed his club. It wasn't lost on any of the owners of all three establishments that they catered to a certain kind of clientele, the kind that had businesses on Main Street but got their kicks in spending their time and money on the 'shadier' side of the town.
He angled the Kia into the space marked, "Mr. Stanton" before shutting off the high-powered motor. He paused before exiting, thinking again of Caitlin's unschooled but erotic display that afternoon. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it had only been twelve hours since he had watched her dance. Ten hours since he had stepped up for her against Mahmood, the shit. Nine and a half hours since he had pushed back at the piece of trash banker on her behalf.
Fuck.
Was she always treated like this?
Jake didn't get it. How could someone so clean and sweet remain so clean and sweet with all the shit she was up against? All those fuckin' pieces of shit that had a hand in her life; a hand that could make it better, but wanted to grab at her, taking her down with them instead of valuing the beauty of all that she was, was trying to be.
In spite of it only being a few hours, it still felt like an eternity since he had been with her. He couldn't get her off of his mind or out of his pants, if his current semi-hard was anything to go by.
Maybe I just need to get laid, Jake thought to himself as he beeped the locks.
But, the thought didn't hold even the glimmer of temptation. He had been one of the county's biggest a players in his youth, flirting and nailing most of the lovelies that other boys and men could only dream of having. But now, approaching his thirties, he was looking for more than just the friction of another body. Not that he was adverse to being cradled in the warm confines of creamy thighs. Jake had just become very particular of who's creamy thighs were doing the cradling and if the cradler's mind and personality were enough to keep his interest after they had done the horizontal bump.
Truthfully, owning a strip club, while making shit-load of cake, had also showed Jake the seedier side of sex. Like being seated in the front row of a theater, Jake was aware of the frayed hems and sweat stains of the costumes, the ill-applied make-up of the actors and the tape marks showing where they were supposed to stand.
It took all the magic out of the story as it unfolded.
There was nothing worse, in his opinion, than seeing one of the gorgeous, leggy headliners in the wings as she waited to go out onstage. Watching her rouging, then icing her nipples with a deadpanned expression before bursting on-stage with a forced enthusiasm. All in the hopes that if she is vivacious enough, hot enough, she would somehow, someway get the most tips possible and would be able to pay the daycare or medical bill for one of the kids at home.
And, as carefully as he and Dale interviewed, screened and had the girl continually tested, there were still
"Yep, the realtor is waiting for your call. Think you'll like it."
"Good enough, I'll call first thing tomorrow. Anything else I need to know?" Jake could tell that Dale was already half out of the conversation and let him go with no further instructions.
A short ride uptown brought Jake to the parking lot of Fuego's where he pulled around back to the far corner where the space was reserved with his name.
Not in the best area of town, though not the worst, the club was one of many businesses that lined the street--a street that you had to have a certain desire to be on in order to rightfully find. Human Hieroglyphics, the local and best tattoo parlor in the county and Bewitchments, the best in the adult-toy trade, bracketed his club. It wasn't lost on any of the owners of all three establishments that they catered to a certain kind of clientele, the kind that had businesses on Main Street but got their kicks in spending their time and money on the 'shadier' side of the town.
He angled the Kia into the space marked, "Mr. Stanton" before shutting off the high-powered motor. He paused before exiting, thinking again of Caitlin's unschooled but erotic display that afternoon. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that it had only been twelve hours since he had watched her dance. Ten hours since he had stepped up for her against Mahmood, the shit. Nine and a half hours since he had pushed back at the piece of trash banker on her behalf.
Fuck.
Was she always treated like this?
Jake didn't get it. How could someone so clean and sweet remain so clean and sweet with all the shit she was up against? All those fuckin' pieces of shit that had a hand in her life; a hand that could make it better, but wanted to grab at her, taking her down with them instead of valuing the beauty of all that she was, was trying to be.
In spite of it only being a few hours, it still felt like an eternity since he had been with her. He couldn't get her off of his mind or out of his pants, if his current semi-hard was anything to go by.
Maybe I just need to get laid, Jake thought to himself as he beeped the locks.
But, the thought didn't hold even the glimmer of temptation. He had been one of the county's biggest a players in his youth, flirting and nailing most of the lovelies that other boys and men could only dream of having. But now, approaching his thirties, he was looking for more than just the friction of another body. Not that he was adverse to being cradled in the warm confines of creamy thighs. Jake had just become very particular of who's creamy thighs were doing the cradling and if the cradler's mind and personality were enough to keep his interest after they had done the horizontal bump.
Truthfully, owning a strip club, while making shit-load of cake, had also showed Jake the seedier side of sex. Like being seated in the front row of a theater, Jake was aware of the frayed hems and sweat stains of the costumes, the ill-applied make-up of the actors and the tape marks showing where they were supposed to stand.
It took all the magic out of the story as it unfolded.
There was nothing worse, in his opinion, than seeing one of the gorgeous, leggy headliners in the wings as she waited to go out onstage. Watching her rouging, then icing her nipples with a deadpanned expression before bursting on-stage with a forced enthusiasm. All in the hopes that if she is vivacious enough, hot enough, she would somehow, someway get the most tips possible and would be able to pay the daycare or medical bill for one of the kids at home.
And, as carefully as he and Dale interviewed, screened and had the girl continually tested, there were still
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