Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
“Get it, darlin’,” one of the guys at the tables in front of us catcalled.
Looking over my shoulder at him, I winked and snatched the joint he had pressed to his lips, bringing it to my own. I took a long inhale of the harsh smoke, removing my leather jacket and tossing it across the room before blowing out a thick white cloud. Taking off my shirt, I popped the button off my jeans and shimmied out of them slowly, a smirk riding on my lips. Placing the joint back in my mouth, I kicked my jeans to the side and slid my butt up onto the stage. Smiling at the young guys in the front dressed in suits, I flicked the joint back toward them, the ash erupting over the impact of it hitting him, before gripping onto the pole and winging it. Whatever I remember watching on TV as a kid when it came to dancing, I used this night. In my drunken, stoned haze, nothing mattered. But truly, nothing mattered since that night in the tent. Somehow, all of that had made me numb. Taking someone’s life wasn’t something to be proud of, but when a man doesn’t know how to take no for an answer, whether it’s his kink or not, then he deserved what he got. At least, that’s what I tell myself when it begins to be too much. Since then, living life in the fast lane with Brooke, a bottle of whiskey, a few lines of coke, and a strip club, seemed like the more pleasurable route to my destruction.
Brooke removed her bra and flung it across the room toward an older guy that had been looking at her like she was a big juicy steak and he was starved. She made her way down to him, jumping off the stage while still moving to the music. Wrapping her legs around his lap, she started grinding against him. I chanced a look at his friend beside him just as his eyes connected with mine. He nudged his head, pulling out hundred-dollar bills from his pocket. Smirking, I leaped down off the stage, turned my back toward him, and ground my ass into his lap.
“Hey, baby, wanna let me have a touch and I’ll triple your tips?” He groaned hoarsely into the side of my neck. He smelled of stale beer and cheap cigarettes.
“Triple, huh? And touch where?” I spun around, wrapped my legs around his waist and took a seat on his lap, grinding myself over the bulge that was coming through the front of his pants. Money, think money. My head was drifting around to the music when a dark shadowed figure caught my attention. I couldn’t see from where I was what it was because not only was this object in the shadows, but their face was covered by a long hoodie. There’s one thing I did know, though. Based on the structure of the figure and the long hair, it was definitely female.
Bringing my attention back to the task at hand, he smiled, the wrinkles on his face curving around his teeth. “Anywhere I want.” He grabbed one of my tits and squeezed through my bra. I didn’t mind. After all, we needed the money. After I left home, my dad and Lydia disowned me. They never understood Brooke, but they never understood many people. If you couldn’t serve a purpose to my father or my family, then there’s no way they’d make time for you. Brooke had nothing to offer, and I figured that’s why they always had a very distasteful opinion on her.
I first met Brooke one night when I almost crashed my car into the town’s bridge. I skidded to a halt, tears streaming down my face, in full panic mode because I was drunk and was also hell-bent on thinking someone was following me. Brooke had said there was no one following me, so I eventually calmed down. I put it down to all my emotions running high from catching my then-boyfriend cheating on me at the party I had just come from, and the alcohol running through my system. Brooke had showed up as I was having a full-blown panic attack in my car that was up on the footpath to the bridge. I’ve often wondered why my family don’t speak to her or even acknowledged her when she was around, and I’ve always thought that maybe they assumed we dated because of how Brooke was and how close our friendship was. Wrong. Brooke and I enjoy dick too much to switch teams, but we’re comfortable enough around each other to experiment with other people together.
I ran my hands down the old dude’s sides until they stopped at a cold metal barrel. “Oh?” I smiled, attention perked.