Mr. President 1(170)

And you’ll just fucking snort, wondering what happened to make an alpha male bad boy into a mewling kitten.

Fuck that.

I’m over her.

I push all these rosy fucking thoughts out of my head and finish showering. Like a fucking man.

I put on a black suit and, by the time I’m finished getting ready, Destiny gets out of the bathroom looking completely stunning, even though she’s wearing her clothes from when I met her at 230 Fifth this afternoon.

“Fuck,” I whisper as I see her, and she raises one eyebrow at me.

“What?” she asks, and I don’t know what to tell her. I settle for the truth.

“You look amazing,” I say, and she arches her eyebrows even more.

“I’m not wearing any make-up, my hair is shit, and I’m wearing a creased dress,” she purses her lips, probably thinking that I’m messing with her, but I just grin.

“And you look fucking stunning,” I admit, no longer caring about what she thinks. “I guess that there’s actually a pretty woman under all that make-up.”

“Asshole,” she laughs, and then closes the distance between the two of us and punches me playfully in the arms.

“That’s me.” Without even thinking, I place my hands on her waist and pull her in, pressing my mouth on her. It’s just a short kiss, but the simplicity of it makes me wary.

I never bought all that romantic shit about magical kisses and unicorns, but there’s something about this woman that’s clouding my fucking mind. She’s dangerous like that, I can tell. I guess this is the way most women feel when they are with me. Yeah, I’m Mr. Cocky asshole, nice to meet you too.

“Shall we?” she asks me, and I nod.

We get out of the apartment in silence. We’re standing side by side when I press the button to summon the elevator and, as we’re waiting, my hands brush accidently against hers.

I feel her fingers twitch, and mine do so as well. The elevator opens with a quiet ding, and we step inside without even looking at each other. But then, as we face forward, our hands brush against one another again. This time I don’t fucking hesitate, I just turn my hand around and hold hers. She wraps her fingers around mine and, just like a fucking 16-year-old high-school couple discovering what sex and love really are, we hold hands as the elevator makes its way down.

Yeah, I can’t believe this is fucking happening.

I’ve had the sweetest women over in my apartment before Destiny, and some of them were even virgins, and now here I end up holding hands with a reformed porn star.

Maybe destiny is playing a trick on me… Which is kinda ironic, don’t you think? Destiny is using destiny to mess with my head. How’s that for the universe making a joke at your expense?

But, just between you and me, I don’t give a fuck if she used to be a porn star. I’ve never been a saint myself.

And she’s so fucking beautiful and confident, standing tall while most women are afraid of revealing their true selves…#p#分页标题#e#

No doubt about it.

This woman is a catch.

I’m just afraid that she might catch me as well.





69





Destiny





“And now,” the voice on the speakers shouts out, “Destiny and Luxury!” The spotlight falls on me and on Luxury and the whole place goes crazy. Men are whistling, clapping, and yelling, cheering as if they've just won the lottery. As for me, well, just another day of work.

We’re both wearing nothing more than a skimpy bra and a matching thong, and that’s because we don’t want to waste any time; our show involves much more that just stripping, if you know what I mean.

The music starts, a deep bass and a steady beat, and our bodies are like two matching pieces, linked by something more than just the physical side of things. I’ve known Lux, her real name is Anna, but she goes by Luxury in here, for a few years now, and it’s always special whenever the two of us put on a show for customers.

And since every man with too much money for their own good always seems eager to spend top dollar to see us together, I can’t help but ‘work’ with her even though I own the place.

You don’t say no to easy money and, besides, it’s always fun with Lux. Today we’re hosting a bachelor party, and the group has booked the side room and its stage just for them.

I’m standing in front of Lux, our bodies swaying to the steady beat of the music, and she walks up to me and places her hands on my hips. The men cheer louder as she starts running her hands up and down the side of my body, and I throw the guys a teasing smile.

Then, I throw my head back and let my hair cascade down my back and shoulders as her hands go for my breasts; she squeezes them softly, and then pulls the front clasp of my bra. The cups droop over my breasts, and I watch the men sitting under the stage trying to get a glimpse of my hard nipples.