Tasting Candy Read online

  The bouncers checked on us all the time with clients to make sure we got up to no dirty business, but this wasn’t just any old client, after all.

  He escorted me to the couch, helping me take a seat before he went to the champagne, took a look at the label then went about serving it all by himself. Most men left that sort of task to me, but not him. He was all class.

  Pouring up some into that fluted glass, he handed it to me first before returning to serve his own up. It also gave me the opportunity to see part of a tattoo that ran from his arm up to his hand. I couldn’t quite make out what it was, or what significance it had by that little glimpse of its edge, however.

  “How has working one of my clubs been for you?” he asked me, sounding warm despite the deep, dark tone of his masculine voice. More importantly, he seemed genuinely interested.

  I leaned back, not bothered at all by my own toplessness or the fact that I was clearly sizing him up. I crossed my legs, the fishnets making them look more toned and shapely.

  He joined me and I curled in towards him, wanting his warmth pressed against me. I couldn’t help it. He was probably ten or more years older than I was, with a lot more culture and class, and as I rested my hand on his chest, I could tell he was cut.

  “It’s the best club I’ve worked at,” I said truthfully. The staff looked out for me, the money was good, what more did I need?

  His thickly muscled arm went back around me as he got comfortable upon that sofa with me. He leaned in, slowly inhaling the scent of my hair as he let the ebon locks stroke his cheek.

  “That is good,” he said in his accented voice, the words hard but said so warmly. He sipped the champagne with me, and I knew it was the real deal.

  “Have you been working here long? Special women such as yourself are so hard to find, and worth holding onto,” he said.

  I curled into him, sipping the champagne in one hand, the other stroking along his chest. He smelled so good and masculine, some scent I hadn’t words for. Spicy and seductive, kind of dark, if I were to try.

  “Just the last few months.”

  I looked at him, over his skin, caressing him with my gaze as I relaxed and pressed my almost nude body against him.

  I normally felt so calm with my nudity, but he was making me squirm, my body growing heated against his.

  We could hear the music of course, and see the shows going on below through the glass, but Luc’s attention was purely upon me. That’s what made things so complicated for me. Having such a masculine and clearly wealthy man so focussed upon me, taking such a keen interest.

  “I hope you choose to stay, Ruby,” he said so genuinely. “It will give me such a great reason to come back again. Seeing you dance once more will make the trip out here very worth it.”

  I was used to compliments from strangers. I was a stripper, damn it. Sometimes they hoped complimenting me would get them extras like a blowjob or a discount on dances, but it never did. Sometimes they were genuine, they truly meant it, and I’m ashamed to admit that almost never did those compliments affect me. There was a part of me that just didn’t accept it.

  But something about the way Luc said it, the way his eyes stayed locked on mine, did more than make me believe it. It took my breath away.

  I bit in my lower lip to try to hide how deeply his words affected me, but it was impossible to fully disguise it.

  My hand dipped down along his side to his hip as I watched him. My gaze was the first to flinch away, though, but his hand was on my jaw, guiding it back to him in a gentle but firm manner.

  That hard, powerful hand of his was rough against my smooth, soft skin, but it felt so masculine, so reassuring. He held my gaze, kept me in check. All as the music played and we sat, entwined, overlooking the club.

  “I’ve never met such a rare beauty in any of my clubs,” he said approvingly, and he was so in control, I felt like whatever he did to me I’d be powerless to stop it. Yet he was gentle, despite his raw strength, and hard body. “Nor anywhere else either,” he added, guiding my head back to his broad shoulders, to rest next to his neck.

  He cradled me against his chest as his hands stroked my side, my cheek.

  “What do you want from life, Ruby?” he asked in that deliciously dark, husky voice of his.

  That was a question I got a lot — what did I really want to do, wasn’t I smarter than this? — but I didn’t feel as if his words were said with malice. Just curiosity.

  It made my lips twist into a grin, and I wanted to be honest. Maybe just a little.

  I tilted my head, glancing towards the stage, the club, and then back to him.

  “I don’t wanna take orders,” I grinned as I licked over my lips. “Make enough that no one can tell me what I want to do.”

  My answer brought a smile to his face, or at least a broader one. He seemed to enjoy holding me, just sitting there, feeling my skin, never too direct, never too crass. He touched my breasts, but never more than grazed the sensitive nipples. His was a careful, calculated touch, and he enjoyed the contact, the closeness.

  Immensely, judging by the feel of what lay beneath my bottom as I sat there in his lap.

  “That’s an excellent goal,” he commended me. “That was mine at one time too, when I was a younger man. Now, of course, I’m already there.”

  I couldn’t help but smile as I nodded, head tilting to the side as I found my body responding to his touch.

  It was highly unprofessional of me, not because I should’ve been able to control my arousal, but that I was losing track of where we were. I was forgetting that his touch was the touch of a customer.

  I longed for more of it, and it had nothing to do with the money.

  My hips ground against him instinctually, and my breath paused in my chest as I felt my almost nude body tingle with anticipation and need.

  A man like him, so strong, so wealthy, so powerful, could’ve easily abused it. Took liberties. And with me in his lap like a purring kitten, there was no doubt between us that he had that freedom, that he could do most anything he liked and I’d have run with it. Yet a man like Luc, so hard and in control, didn’t need to take what was already clearly his.

  Instead, he pet my hair, my side, enjoyed my presence, my company. We sat in quiet for a while, enjoyed the closeness, the music. We sipped champagne and took it easy.

  “How many nights do you tend to work, Ruby darling?”

  His words broke me from my stare and I couldn’t help but flush just a little at the intrusions upon my scandalous thoughts. Wondering if he’d bend me over. It I could rub him just the right way, if it’d become too much and he’d simply take me.

  I licked my lips, my throat suddenly dry as I looked back at him, my hips still rocking.

  “Only a couple, before my boyfriend broke up with me. Now I’m here five days.”

  The smile on his face told me something: that he’d gotten the information he’d truly wanted, even if it was in a very roundabout way.

  A man like Luc didn’t blurt out dumbly, “You got a boyfriend?” That would’ve been too obvious, to classless and inappropriate. No, a man like Luc got what he wanted, but never the way you expected.

  “Ahh, beautiful woman like you should not know heartbreak. Only how to break hearts,” he said so affectionately, leaning in and nuzzling against my cheek and forehead, the scent of his faint musk so enticing.

  My arms wrapped around him, tugging myself closer to him as my legs wrapped about his hips, my small body fitting so snuggly in his larger form. He made me feel protected, my thighs pressed into him, though as I pulled myself closer, I had to pause.

  He throbbed against me, and that slowed by thoughts further, but I felt another hardness, closer to his side. Something with a distinctive feel.

  He was packing heat.

  My heart went up in my throat, and for a moment, I panicked. I didn’t know what to do, what to say, and I was glad he couldn’t see my expression as he rubbed his cheek against mine, becau
se I knew I was making the deer-in-headlights look.

  What do I do?

  Yet Luc was never fazed. Even as my thigh touched cold steel at his hip, he just felt me up, enjoyed the feel of my waist, my hips. My breasts. Smiling all the while, so confident, so in control. I would never have guessed that he was carrying around a gun on him. Yet it all made such sense, this big man, with an Eastern (maybe Russian?) accent, owned a whole chain of clubs, dressed so damn well. Lived so lavishly.

  I’d never known your typical businessman to be loose with his money. They were always so stingy.

  “You make me want to linger with you here all night, and into tomorrow, Ruby,” he said so approvingly.

  But I was fluttering against him like a butterfly.

  It was one thing to know he had a gun on him. The implications...

  Was he a mob boss? Oh god, was my club owned by the mob?!

  Worse than that, though, was that even through my fear and anxiety, I never stopped rolling my hips, rubbing myself against his throbbing package. All that separated us were our clothes, and I was cursing that. I wanted him, bad.

  And the gun...

  Why’d that only make me want him more?

  I was silent long enough to be suspicious, and his hand went to my jaw again, capturing my face and bringing my gaze to his.

  Staring into his eyes as I so purposefully ground against his large, throbbing manhood had to be one of the most intense moments of my life. Knowing what he must be, what he held. I even managed to break that stoic, self-assured look of his enough to make him give a low moan.

  “You should not break the rules,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Not even for me.”

  Yet he never tried to stop me, and kept our gazes locked, one hand at my face, the other at my hips, grasping me firmly.

  My lashes fluttered as my eyes rolled back, pain and frustration contorting my expression as I gasped, my nipples so stiff and just yearning for touch.

  I wanted him in a way that was more primal than anything I’d ever felt before, and I knew that without those words, I would’ve taken him, then and there. The idea of snaking my hand between us, undoing his fly, unleashing him...

  Fuck, even the fact that I didn’t have protection didn’t stop me. The fact that I’d gotten off the pill when my ex dumped me, and the fact that I heard you’re way more fertile just after stopping, even that couldn’t have been enough to convince me that I didn’t want Luc, right now.

  But his words, they made me pause, heart racing in my chest as I still ground against him, feeling his hand on my creamy flesh.

  “I won’t,” I promised, though I didn’t know how much longer I could maintain myself. I leaned in against him just to feel the fabric of his shirt rub against my stiff nipples, and with every grind of my hips I grew wetter.

  He emitted such an aura of calm, yet I could feel how his body reacted. How his heart thudded so heavily in his chest from excitement, how his cock throbbed thick and lewdly beneath me with desire that matched my own at least.

  “You would, if I let you,” he said to me, so certain of himself as he looked me over, and as if reading my mind he slid his hand up, cupped my breast and lightly teased my nipple, bringing such sensations to that sensitive, pink teat.

  “And I have already decided I won’t rest until you come back to my hotel room this night,” he added on in a dark voice. His eyes so hard as he looked me over then.

  I trembled against his touch, my body pulling away from him just enough so that he could play with my nipple, twist and pinch it. I was already so turned on, my mind abuzz with need, and I looked at him seriously as my breathing increased.

  Then, as I sat prone in his lap, my hips still rocking against his, my pussy juices soaking through my black thong, with my nipple in his fingers, I asked the stupidest thing.

  It was the type of thing you omit from retellings, because it seemed so out of character, so risky.

  I asked anyways.

  “Are you in the mob?”

  I cursed myself. Did I even want to know? But the question already was floating between us, and I couldn’t take it back.

  Yet Luc wasn’t even fazed by that dumb, girlish question of mine. His lips crooked back into a wry, amused smile and he stroked my cheek fondly as he toyed with my breast.

  “You do not need to worry about such things,” was all he said to me as he leaned in, hovering his lips so near to mine. Nearly kissing me, but stopping that fraction of an inch from making it so. Just as our loins lay pressed together, only some thin fabric separating us.

  “You are safe with me,” he said, his eyelids descending, leaving his gaze narrowed with desire.

  Oh God.

  There couldn’t have been a more clear ‘yes’ if he’d actually have said the word.

  So then why did my back arch? Why did I keep my mouth so near to his, and why did I want him to close the distance so damned bad I thought my body was going to shatter into a million pieces if he didn’t touch me right then and there?

  Why was he being such a stickler for the rules in the first place?

  What would he taste like? He smelled of champagne, of something sweeter beneath it, a bit like cinnamon hearts. Harsh yet sugary.

  I wanted to feel what his tongue would be like against mine. I licked my lips, swallowing at the thought as my pussy rubbed against his clothed cock once more, the gun still pressing into my thigh.

  His hand left my breast as we stared into each other's eyes, and he reached down, cupping my ass cheek, and I swore I could feel him egg me on just the slightest bit with that grasp. His eyes shut, but only for a moment as he gave a low, rumbling moan of approval at my motions.

  “You will come back to my hotel room tonight,” he said, dictating what would happen to me so firmly, authoritatively. “You will spend the whole night, and eat breakfast with me come morning. But between then, I will discipline you for your tempting of the rules tonight. I like you, and I would be remiss if I did not correct your deviant behaviour, Ruby.”

  Discipline me?

  My lips dropped open, and I swear, I tried to stop grinding my hips against him. I tried to stop searching for my orgasm against his clothed cock, but if I were to be honest, I was so damned close, and those dark words...

  They were my tipping point.

  I couldn’t have come at a worse time, because he was looking right at me, and it was so obvious. My nipples stiffened and I pushed my toes down in my heels as my skin went goose bumpy, and I couldn’t stifle the moan, even though I bit down on my lower lip.

  But even if I could’ve hid all that, I couldn’t hide the way I was trembling like a maniac, grinding against him more urgently as I toppled over that precipice.

  There was no going back from that.

  I’d just cum all over a mob boss — my mob boss! — in a strip club.

  That was definitely against the rules.

  He never scolded me, never said a word in reprimand. Instead he pulled me in close against his hard body, held me tight, and stroked my skin. His hands on my back, my side, his thumb reaching on in to tease and prod my nipple, drawing out that orgasm, making the sweet climax last longer.

  He was heaven in that moment, doing the right things to make my pleasure so sweet, to draw it out longer.

  When I was done, left a shivering mass upon his lap, he murmured in my ear with that deep, gravelly voice of his.

  “It’s okay. I know you do not do this for other clients. You’ll make it up,” he said so certainly, as if he had total control of everything, the club, me, the outcomes of all.

  And I should’ve dreaded it, but oh no.

  All I could think of was that I wanted more. So much more.

  I pulled back enough to look at him, my eyes tracing over his handsome face as I flushed, my pale skin turning such a shade of pink.

  “I’ve never,” I promised, confirming what he already seemed to know. “I’d never...”

  “I know,” he said to me wit
h such understanding. “But you are still fired,” and there was no joke or humour to him as he said that. I’d broken a rule and that was that, he was a man of his word, and his word was law.

  Yet there was no time to be upset about it, because with that there were no more rules between us. He pressed his lips to mine and kissed me deeply, his tongue working betwixt my lips as his strong hands held and fondled me. I rested atop him as he held me more tenderly, more lovingly than any man before him ever had.

  I trembled against him, both from my lingering orgasm and the shock of his words, or the fact that I’d just thrown away a job I loved and was so good at, just for that sweet pleasure.

  Worse still was that I wrapped my arms more firmly about his neck, holding myself to him as he kissed me, his tongue glancing against mine. A moan reverberated through us and I was barely certain if it was mine or his, but I was still shaking, my entire body worked up to a state I’d never felt before.

  We made out for so long like that, his manhood straining beneath me until even that giant mobster couldn’t contain himself. He stood up, me in his arms as if I were but a feather pillow.

  He held me like that for a time before he finally set me back to my feet. His hand rested upon my cheek again, drawing my gaze to his for a shared moment.

  He broke away only to pull away the curtain and gesture to a man — one of his henchmen? — that I’d not seen before. He certainly wasn’t a bouncer with how well dressed he was.

  “Bring something warm for the lady to wear out, and get the car ready,” he instructed before turning back to me and pressing our lips together once more without delay.

  My knees were so weak I had to rest against him, desperate for his warmth.

  I had never gone home with anyone from the club. I’d never even been tempted.

  But with Luc, I just accepted it without protest. My mouth was tingling from his kisses, my clit still throbbing and wanting more stimulation, and I’d completely forgone not just logic, but all else as well. The only thing I could think of was him fucking me in his hotel room, and my hand went down his body, over his abs to brush against his throbbing member.