Read Online Pole Dance by J. A. Hornbuckle - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J. A. Hornbuckle
Tags: Dance
Ads: Link
a few that picked up a drug habit.
Or picked up a man that believed that her work was his paycheck and she better hand over the money or she'd be sporting black and blue in areas even the customers could see.
Or those dancers that believed that the Fuego's rule of 'no pussy' didn't apply to them and would eventually be caught at the end of the stage, edging the gusset of the g-string aside to give a very private and illegal show to one of the customer's eyes after having been coaxed by the waving of a multiple fifties or hundred dollar bills and a fervent whisper.
All of it--the overuse of intoxicants in any form, the bruises from abusive home life and the flash of privates in a 'tits only' strip club--found his staff fired, no questions asked; no reasons accepted.
Maybe he was a romantic, but Jake yearned to be with someone that helped him feel clean and good. Something that took him away from tawdry and gave him unsoiled hope in the effortless connection that sprang from two people who simply enjoyed each other and not just on a physical level.
And, maybe, I'll just have to take my hand to tame it again, he thought with a chuckle trying to disperse his dark thoughts.
That Caitlin, now.
What was it about her that had him wrapped up in knots? He'd be lucky if he didn't come in his sleep tonight, staining the sheets in a parody of his fourteen-year-old self.
Flipping on the perimeter lights in the club's huge downstairs space, Jake made his way around the desk and picked up the large envelope that had been placed front and center so it wouldn't be missed. Squeezing the tabs together, he broke the seal and poured the pages into his palm. Only six pages came out and Jake peered into the envelope to see if there were others stuck inside.
Nope, only the six.
Who the fuck only has six fuckin' pages?
At the end of his fourth reading, though, Jake knew why there were only six pages. And that Caitlin had truly given everything of herself in her brief time with him yesterday--in every fuckin' way.
She was the real deal and Jake wanted that particular sweet piece of real in his life and in his bed. He glanced again at the class list and work references. It was gonna be tricky time-wise but Jake knew that when he set his sights on a target, he would do and could do whatever it took to achieve it.
The beautiful, hard-working and driven Caitlin was a very worthy goal in spite of their age difference, though she might think otherwise. After only a few hours together, Jake already had seen glimpses of her pride and her naiveté, her determination which bordered on stubbornness and her sparks of temper which burned bright then were quickly gone. Yep, it might be tricky all the way around. But it had been hard to unwrap himself from around her when she'd cried. Cried in his fuckin' arms. Something he'd never had happen in his whole life.
Jake's body went completely still as he remembered that not once, outside of a forced smile she'd given him during her interview, not once had Caitlin grinned, smiled or even laughed. Not fuckin' once.
"Fuck me," Jake whispered softly. Though, at that moment, even he himself couldn't have told you if it was a wish, a vow or simply cursing.
*.*.*.*.*
"Freaking, bloomin', heck," I breathed as my eyes again roamed over the paper announcing my grades for the mid-semester. It wasn't often that I uttered my revised version of my father's favorite swear phrase but the situation seemed to call for it.
3.0, and I was screwed.
My scholarship was dependent on me maintaining a solid 3.75 grade point average. And here was the irrefutable proof that I wasn't cutting it. I looked again trying to figure out how badly and in which class I'd failed. Business 201 was a solid 4.0 as was Physics. But the damn Biology and Speech were kicking my ass. I could partly blame the effervescent, though dumb as a box of rocks, Renee for the lab grade as she didn't do shit and in no way contributed to our partnership outside of filling my
Or picked up a man that believed that her work was his paycheck and she better hand over the money or she'd be sporting black and blue in areas even the customers could see.
Or those dancers that believed that the Fuego's rule of 'no pussy' didn't apply to them and would eventually be caught at the end of the stage, edging the gusset of the g-string aside to give a very private and illegal show to one of the customer's eyes after having been coaxed by the waving of a multiple fifties or hundred dollar bills and a fervent whisper.
All of it--the overuse of intoxicants in any form, the bruises from abusive home life and the flash of privates in a 'tits only' strip club--found his staff fired, no questions asked; no reasons accepted.
Maybe he was a romantic, but Jake yearned to be with someone that helped him feel clean and good. Something that took him away from tawdry and gave him unsoiled hope in the effortless connection that sprang from two people who simply enjoyed each other and not just on a physical level.
And, maybe, I'll just have to take my hand to tame it again, he thought with a chuckle trying to disperse his dark thoughts.
That Caitlin, now.
What was it about her that had him wrapped up in knots? He'd be lucky if he didn't come in his sleep tonight, staining the sheets in a parody of his fourteen-year-old self.
Flipping on the perimeter lights in the club's huge downstairs space, Jake made his way around the desk and picked up the large envelope that had been placed front and center so it wouldn't be missed. Squeezing the tabs together, he broke the seal and poured the pages into his palm. Only six pages came out and Jake peered into the envelope to see if there were others stuck inside.
Nope, only the six.
Who the fuck only has six fuckin' pages?
At the end of his fourth reading, though, Jake knew why there were only six pages. And that Caitlin had truly given everything of herself in her brief time with him yesterday--in every fuckin' way.
She was the real deal and Jake wanted that particular sweet piece of real in his life and in his bed. He glanced again at the class list and work references. It was gonna be tricky time-wise but Jake knew that when he set his sights on a target, he would do and could do whatever it took to achieve it.
The beautiful, hard-working and driven Caitlin was a very worthy goal in spite of their age difference, though she might think otherwise. After only a few hours together, Jake already had seen glimpses of her pride and her naiveté, her determination which bordered on stubbornness and her sparks of temper which burned bright then were quickly gone. Yep, it might be tricky all the way around. But it had been hard to unwrap himself from around her when she'd cried. Cried in his fuckin' arms. Something he'd never had happen in his whole life.
Jake's body went completely still as he remembered that not once, outside of a forced smile she'd given him during her interview, not once had Caitlin grinned, smiled or even laughed. Not fuckin' once.
"Fuck me," Jake whispered softly. Though, at that moment, even he himself couldn't have told you if it was a wish, a vow or simply cursing.
*.*.*.*.*
"Freaking, bloomin', heck," I breathed as my eyes again roamed over the paper announcing my grades for the mid-semester. It wasn't often that I uttered my revised version of my father's favorite swear phrase but the situation seemed to call for it.
3.0, and I was screwed.
My scholarship was dependent on me maintaining a solid 3.75 grade point average. And here was the irrefutable proof that I wasn't cutting it. I looked again trying to figure out how badly and in which class I'd failed. Business 201 was a solid 4.0 as was Physics. But the damn Biology and Speech were kicking my ass. I could partly blame the effervescent, though dumb as a box of rocks, Renee for the lab grade as she didn't do shit and in no way contributed to our partnership outside of filling my
Similar Books
