Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(89)

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 …

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.

Oh, don't judge them; I'm worth every stolen glimpse... and they're paying more than enough for it.

I push the straps of my bra down my arms, moving slowly, and I can feel  the tension rise in the air. When I finally pull it off of my body, my  sixth sense tells me that the few cocks in the room that weren't fucking  hard are now as solid as concrete.

Smiling at Lux, I lean in to her and brush my lips against hers while,  at the same time, I open the clasp on her own bra. Except, instead of  taking it slow, I simply rip it off of her body and throw it to the men  under us. I can hear the commotion as two of them jump from their seats  to catch the bra, but I don't bother looking.

My hands run down the side of Lux's body, and I go down to my knees as I  hook my fingers on her thong. I look at the men, that mischievous smile  once more on my face, and bite on my lower lip, teasing them as I try  to look like I'm wondering about what I should do next

"Take it off," one of them urges me, and I slide the tip of my index finger over Lux's thong, gently pressing against her pussy.

She grabs her own tits as I do it, squeezing them and moaning, and I  finally start pushing the thong down. Her pussy is starting to show, and  no one's talking any more; if it weren't for the music, you could hear a  pin drop in the room.

"No, you take it off," one of the men shouts, and I can't help but smile  at that. Even though most men would kill and die for a chance to be  with a woman like Lux, I guess some things can't really be helped.

I'm in high demand, after all, especially since a lot of these men know me from my days as a porn star.

It isn't easy being famous, you know?

Sigh. Alright then. Here we go.

I go up to my feet, my fingers still on Lux's thong, and she takes her  hands to my waist. We start to pull down on each other's thongs at the  same time and, when I feel the string being pulled down from between my  ass cheeks …

What the fuck?

Did you hear that?

What the fuck was that noise?

I jerk, hearing that loud bang.

You heard that too, right?

It's from the end of the room.

I turn my head there just in time to see someone barging in.

What the fuck is going on?

I narrow my eyes into slits, trying to see the person walking toward the  stage in a straight hurried line, and then I feel my heart sink inside  my chest.

Fucking Christ.

It's Lester Vicks, and he looks fucking pissed.

"Show's over, gentlemen," he shouts, pulling his badge from a pocket in  his overcoat and flashing it to the men sitting at the tables. It's  almost as if he said there's a bomb inside the building; they scurry out  like mice, heading out of the room as if they were running for their  lives.

Oh. My. God.

This time he's gone too fucking far. Skinny dick loser corrupt fucking cop.

"What the fuck, Lester?" I hiss at him, grabbing my bra from the floor and putting it on.

I pull my thong up, walk down the stage, and head toward him, feeling as  pissed as he looks. I don't know what bug crawled up his ass today, but  he can't barge in here like this and ruin my business.

"You can't do this!" I protest, but he shoots me down with one hard look.

"I can do whatever I want, Destiny," he says, and this time he doesn't  call me babe. Even though I hate when he calls me that, I would've  preferred it to the way he's talking to me right now. He means business,  and when Lester means business …  It's usually bad business. At least for  me.

"I'm running out of time here," he tells me sharply. "That girl I told  you about, you need to find her, and you need to do it quickly."

"Jesus, and you had to storm in here just to tell me that?" I ask him,  folding my arms and tapping my foot against the floor. He might be the  commissioner, but that doesn't give him the right to come in here and do  whatever the hell he wants. I mean, it does, but you know what I'm  trying to say.

"I'm not playing around anymore, Destiny," he says to me. "There's  something very bad going on, and I need you to go to Python and find  that girl. Not fucking play porn star for a bunch of fucking perverts."

Seriously. That statement coming from him has like eighteen different kinds of irony.

"There's some shady shit going on at Python, and that girl is right in  the middle of it. That girl and your friend, Austin," he says,  pronouncing the word friend as if he knows more than he's telling. I  wonder how much he really knows.

"I told you, if she's there, I'm going to --" I start, but he waves me  down and cuts me short. He smacks his lips in that irritating expression  of his, and then points one long finger at me.

"You have 24 hours. Not a minute more," he tells me, and I understand  the threat under his words. Even though he has the hots for me, this  woman he's looking for seems to be more important than all of that for  him to threaten me like this.

"The clock is ticking," he finishes, turning on his heels and storming  out of the room. "And when it finishes, you better have a fucking chair  to sit on, darlin'."

I frown as I watch him leave the room, thinking that if hate could kill  he'd drop dead right now. I used to tolerate him, but lately he's been  overstepping.

I'm not his errand girl; if he wants to investigate Python, why doesn't he do it himself?

I stand there in silence, mulling over his words as Lux walks toward me, a coat draped over her naked shoulders.

"What the fuck was all that about?" she asks me. "Did Lester go off the  deep end?" She folds her arms like me, tapping her foot at the same  rhythm I was doing before.

I shake my head.

"I mean, just walking in here and flashing his badge and shutting shit  down, it's … " Lux tries to find the words but can't. "Jesus."

"I don't think Jesus has anything to do with this, Lux," I whisper, more  to myself than to her. "Can you do me a favor? Get me an Uber; I need  to get to Queens fast. Lester isn't fucking around this time, and I  don't want to take any risks."         

     



 

"Sure, boss," she tells me playfully, trying to brighten my mood but  failing miserably. Seeing the worried look on my face, she finally turns  on her heels and starts walking toward the backstage. "I'm on it."

As I stand here, completely by myself under the dimmed lights of the  room, I can't help but worry. There's something going on, and I have no  idea what it is.

But I need to get to the bottom of this.

Because it seems like I'm caught up in it now whether I like it or not.





70





Austin





This is probably a fucking first for me, but I haven't been able to stop thinking of Destiny.

I've always lived by the two Fs philosophy, Fuck and Forget, but that's proving to be an impossible mission.

This woman's cast some sort of fucking spell on me, and I just can't shake it off.

It's a good thing that Strokes has called me to warn me that she's  coming in today. I need to think of something else, and I know that when  Strokes comes in we have to take care of business.