His to Steal

Ch. 1: Choke

Did I mention I can't stand him?

I show the bouncer my ID and as soon as I enter the club, I realize just how long it's been since I've had a woman in my bed. My cock twitches behind my zipper as I immediately make eye contact with the beautiful woman that's center stage right now, her dark hair falling over her bare shoulder, the ends barely grazing her pert nipple.

My gaze darts to the redhead next to her, who is still partially clothed in a lacy green thong and bra, her breasts spilling over the top. I can see the freckles sprinkled across her creamy skin from here, and my mouth waters. I can't help it. I have a thing for freckles.

Damn, these women are fucking works of art.

I look from woman to woman as they glide across the stages, some twisting around poles, others dancing with each other, the sensual movements of their bodies doing things to my insides that I haven't let myself feel in what seems like months.

Focus, Nicolai. See what there is to see, take some mental notes for Juri, and then, if you happen to end the night tangled up with one of these beautiful women, that's just icing on the cake.

To try to center myself, I look around, taking in the club's appearance. The floor is white marble tile, the mood lighting sets the perfect glow without being too harsh, and all the seating is plush, free of any cosmetic wear and tear. It's clearly been kept up well.

No wonder this is the kind of place wealthy people frequent...the kind of people we'd want as clients.

The redhead keeps glancing my way, and no matter how hard I try to concentrate on the task at hand, all I keep thinking about is getting her down off that stage and asking if she wants to spend the rest of her evening with me.

By the way she's running her gaze up and down my body, I'm pretty sure her answer would be yes.

It's not a half-bad idea. If anyone knows the inner workings of a club, it's the dancers and the servers. I could get some information and have a little fun at the same time.

I order a gin and tonic from the bar and push through the crowd until I am standing right in front of the stage where she's dancing, and damn, this is the perfect view.

She saunters over to me, her body even more curvy and perfect up close, and when she squats down so we are eye level, I lift my chin and say, "You got a break coming up?"

Her blood-red lips lift into a grin, and she shakes her head, leans into me and whispers, "No, but I do have a shift in the private rooms up next, and you can be my first client of the night if you can afford me."

I reach into my pocket and pull out a wad of cash from the deal earlier today. "How much to be your first and last?"

She raises an eyebrow and holds out her hand to me, and I realize after a moment that she wants help off the stage. I grip her waist instead and lift her off her feet and down to the floor in front of me. She's at least a head shorter than me, even in the heels she's wearing.

Looking up at me with those fuck-me blue eyes, she says, "Follow me, and we'll discuss payment."

I gesture toward the rooms in the back of the club as she takes my hand. "Lead the way."

When we reach the second to last door on the left, she stops and holds out her hand. "I get off in two hours. That'll be a grand," she says like she thinks I won't be able to afford it.

I just lift an eyebrow as I take the money from the deal earlier out of my pocket again and count out fifteen one-hundred-dollar bills, placing them in her palm.