I leaned forward and looked at him confidently. "Ten percent off the top. I'll increase the business, keep the girls safe, and make sure you never get busted by the cops."
Simon's eyes gleamed with greed, and I knew it was a done deal.
Although the thought of being a john caused my stomach to roll, at least I was now inside the circle of trust.
Of course, my ten-percent take goes straight into evidence, to add onto the other charges I hope to layer on top of this guy until he's buried.
I reach the top of the stairs, turn right, and make my way down a narrow hallway that houses three of the VIP rooms. Each one is furnished with couches, plush chairs, and a private stripper pole. Each room also has a large, tinted glass wall that overlooks the interior of the club, so the VIP patrons can watch the private show or watch what's going on down on the stage.
I open the door to VIP Two and find Misty sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, filing her nails in bored fashion. She's wearing a red corset trimmed in black lace, a thong, and black platform heels. Her blonde hair is up in her trademark long ponytail. She once confided in me that she wears it that way so her hair doesn't get in the way when she's sucking a guy off.
Classy, that one is.
Two of our repeat customers who take advantage of the VIP rooms a few times a week stand over in the corner. The one, who I know goes by Scott, marches up to me angrily.
"We've paid the bitch, and now she won't put out," he says, spittle flying everywhere.
I calmly wipe a spot from under my eye and look over at Misty. "That true?"
She looks up at me, her dark eyes wide and innocent. "He wants double penetration, and I don't take it up the ass for a measly five hundred. If that's all they can pay, one can have my pussy and the other my mouth."
I fight hard not to grimace with distaste but turn back to the men. "It's a thousand for what you guys want. If five hundred is all you have, then you get some mouth/pussy action but that's it."
The guys grumble but pull out their wallets, pulling out an extra five-hundred dollars. Scott counts through it quickly and then hands it to Misty, muttering curse words. She calmly takes the money, stuffs it in the garter around her leg, and then proceeds to start removing her corset.
I turn around to leave, knowing my work is done.
"You should stay and watch." I hear Misty, and my head swivels back her way. "Scotty-boy here is pretty drunk, and I'm not feeling exactly safe with them. You should stay … you know, to make sure things don't get out of hand."
I can't help myself. This time, my nose crinkles up in disgust. "You'll be safe," I assure her with confidence, and then pin the men with a direct stare. "These guys will be extra gentle, right?"
They both nod quickly, although their eyes are immediately pinned to Misty's ginormous boobs that pop free from the corset.
"Good then. You guys have a fun time," I say, turning away once more.
"That's too bad," Misty says in a mocking tone. "I know you'd enjoy watching me work, Raze."
"Not my thing," I say without even looking back over my shoulder. Walking out of the door, I shut it softly behind me.
God, I fucking hate this part of the operation. Peddling ass to sleazy men that are here cheating on their wives in order to ride the next big thrill. It's fucking abysmal, so I keep reminding myself that the end goal will save numerous women.
When this sting is over, I know I'm probably going to bath in Clorox just to get the slime off me. I also know that after this, my undercover days are over.
Chapter 2
Andrea
I wipe my sweaty palms on my slacks, thankful the black material won't show the wet trail I'm leaving behind. Taking a deep breath, I knock on the SAC's door and let it out slowly while I wait for admittance.
"It's open," I hear the gruff voice say from within. Squaring my shoulders, I turn the knob and push the door inward.
FBI Special Agent in Charge, Dale Lambert sits behind his desk, which is covered with stacks of files and empty, paper coffee cups. His silver hair, though, is sharply styled and his dark, charcoal-gray suit is pressed to perfection.
He looks up and gives me a blank look. "What can I do for you, Somerville?"
"You wanted to see me, sir?" I ask as I clasp my hands behind my back, legs slightly parted to stand at attention.
"Right," he says distractedly and starts digging through the stacks of files on his desk. "Take a seat. There's something I want to discuss with you."