He slid the bill between Aggie's breasts and into the bodice of her black leather bustier. As his fingertips brushed her skin, her nipples tightened. Totally unusual reaction for her. Customers typically gave her the heebie-jeebies when they touched her. This one had all her systems set to go. The small silver hoop in his earlobe caught a strobe light. Aggie gnawed on her tongue, wanting to nibble on his ear instead. She did have a thing for ears.
Um, wrong answer, Aggie. Customers were never fair game for action in the sack.
"Do you do private dances?" he asked, his chocolate brown eyes locked with hers. His voice was deeper than she'd expected and so quiet, she wouldn't have heard him over the throbbing club music if she hadn't been leaning so close.
"You mean like a lap dance?"
"If that's what you do. How much?"
"Fifty bucks."
He handed her another hundred. The guy must have had a good day at the casino. He didn't look rich. He wore a plain white T-shirt, worn black leather jacket, and snug blue jeans, which clung to the huge bulge in his pants. Well, hello there, big guy. She was glad she wasn't the only one thinking her next dance should be the horizontal mamba.
Aggie, pull yourself together, woman. He's a customer. No can do. Oh, but she so wanted to. Do. Him.
His gaze lowered to the floor, and he flushed. "Do you offer other services?"
Whoa, buddy. Brakes engaged. "I'm not a prostitute, if that's what you're asking."
He shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I want you to hurt me." He drew a deep, shuddering breath into his expanding chest. "Hard-core."
Oh yeah. Can do, sugar.
Aggie glanced over at the bouncer again to make sure he wasn't watching her side transaction. Eli's attention was on the far stage, where Paradise Found's newest dancer, Jessica, a.k.a. Feather, was dancing in her white feathers and silk scarf. Men were mesmerized by her. Even though Jessica had a fantastic body and knew how to move it, she simply didn't have the right mind-set to be an exotic dancer. None of the drooling men who surrounded Feather's stage with slightly bulging eyes and excessively bulging flies would agree with Aggie's opinion. All they saw was her beautiful outer package-not the severely broken heart within. Aggie saw it though. She'd recognized it the instant she'd met Jessica and helped her land this job. Poor lamb. So confused and conflicted.
Aggie returned her attention to the guy at her feet. She didn't have the same sympathy for men. "I do indulge for a price," Aggie told him, "but no sex."
"I don't need sex."
She nodded. He wasn't new to this. Which made him so much more fun than her usual victims. She had a few regulars who visited her dungeon, but most of her customers were guys visiting Vegas, who wanted to explore their darker side for a night. She never saw most of them again, which suited her just fine. Many dommes preferred regulars, but Aggie would rather turn over a quick buck and avoid growing fond of one of her submissives.
Her current interest's body held tension in every line. When he glanced up at her, the deep emotional pain in his gaze made her belly quiver. Yeah, blondie, you're exactly the challenge I need right now. "I can work you over, angel, but not here. I'll slip you my card later, and you can call me. If you're lucky, I'll show you my dungeon."
He shuddered, his breath coming out in an excited gasp.
Maybe she should take him backstage and give him a taste of what she had to offer. He looked ready to explode with the strain of containing his pain. He needed the release she could give him. And she needed to see him grovel at her boots so she could dismiss him as not worth her time. The sooner he joined the thousands of men on List A, the better.
Aggie dropped down on her knees on the stage to continue dancing as she talked to him. "When do you need this?"
"As soon as possible."
"I think I have an opening in a few days."
"Tonight. I've got money. Name your price."
Name your price? He was definitely speaking her language, but making him wait would do half her work for her. She ran her blood-red, pointed nails down the side of his neck, leaving light scratches in their wakes. "I'll check my calendar and see if I can squeeze you in. Maybe tomorrow. Or the next day."
She was eager to raise welts on his flesh and hear him cry out in pain. Wanted the ultimate prize he would gift her: begging her for mercy, begging her to stop. That sweet instant he gave her all of his power and she owned him. That's what she wanted. What she needed to keep herself elevated from that deep, dark pit she'd once resided in. But it was too soon to indulge him. He'd attain greater fulfillment if she put him off a few days. Let the anticipation settle into his body and his thoughts until he could think of nothing but the delicious agony she promised.