Big Brother Billionaire (Part Two) (5 page)

I gaped at him, my persona having fled, not knowing what to do with this naked truth. He oozed honesty in a way I couldn’t quite explain. It was all at once attractive and disconcerting.

“I saw you in my sleep,” he continued, “and you haunted my every hour—both waking and dreaming. I had to know more about you, and every time I came to the club, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, I realized I knew less and less. This is your act…I’m starting to realize that now. But what makes you put on this mask? You’re so beautiful. Why do you feel you have to be so aloof?”

No customer had ever bothered with these questions. The only thing most men here ever asked me was if I wanted a drink, to sit on their lap, or to give them a piece of myself in private. None of them had ever bothered to ask why I acted the way that I did. They were only interested in my face value, in what was on the surface. They probably all assumed I was into BDSM and was some kind of dominatrix acting out her fantasies here in the club, and I let them. They could picture whatever fantasy they wished, as long as I got a paycheck at the end of the night.

However, none of them had ever called me on it or told me that they knew there was something more, something else going on inside. Not even my coworkers or boss had expressed interest in knowing what was below the persona.

“Here, let’s go,” he said, standing suddenly and taking my hand. I was so shocked I didn’t draw away from him for breaking the rules of the club, for touching me. Our fingers interlocked immediately, and there was almost a static buzz that I couldn’t help comparing with the buzz I felt the first time I met Marcus.

“Where are we going?” I asked, finding my voice again and shaking my head swiftly at an approaching bouncer, eager to yank this man away from me.

“To the private dance room,” he said. “I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”

“You want a private dance?” I asked, dubious. After all of those words he’d let leave his mouth? I thought this was something more than a simple, sexual attraction. Had he really waited a solid two weeks before requesting a stupid lap dance from me? It was a waste of an investment. I’d have gotten him taken care of the very first night if he’d indicated he was interested in such a thing.

“I want to know more about you, Parker,” he said, leading me through the tables, to the dark corner of the club. “I understand that you can’t take the mask off out here, not with all these eyes on you. I know you have a character to maintain. However, I’m hoping that, away from prying eyes, you’ll be able to be honest with me.”

Through a set of swinging doors and beyond a curtain of beads was the private dance area, with couches and chairs partitioned off like little love cubicles, many of them occupied. Ron led us to a couch and sat down before pulling me earnestly down beside him. I felt strange, awkward, and exposed. Sure, I was wearing a latex jumpsuit that hugged every peak, curve, nook, and cranny, and there weren’t many things about my body right now that remained mysterious, but this was a different kind of exposure. This man had seen behind the mask, and now he wanted a full gander at what was hidden beneath.

“What’s your name?” I asked, peering at him. Those blue eyes hadn’t lost an ounce of their glimmer, their intensity, even in this intimate setting.

“It’s Ron,” he said, giving me that gorgeous grin again. “Sorry. Probably should’ve introduced myself right off.”

“That’s all right,” I said, followed by, needlessly, “I’m Parker.”

“Yes, I know,” he said, patiently patting my hand. I was so embarrassed that I withdrew my hand from his, clasping my own hands together in my lap that was, again, such an un-Parker thing to do. There were plenty of times in my job here that I felt uncomfortable, but I never let any customer see me sweat. What was Ron doing to me to make me lose my composure so thoroughly?

“Are you sure you don’t just want a dance?” I asked, eyeing him. “I’m a good dancer, as you know since you’ve been watching me. I don’t want to waste your time any more than you say you don’t want to waste mine.”

“I want to get to know you,” he insisted again. “You intrigue me, Parker, in ways no one ever has before, and if money is going to be the key to unlocking you, then I’m willing to give you twenty bucks for every question you answer.”

My mouth dropped open yet again. “Don’t you at least want to see my boobs?” I asked. Why would someone here want to spend money on something as intangible as words? Didn’t he at least want a sexual payout, a little bang for his buck? All around us, men were getting more than satisfied. I could hear grunts and coos over the music, which seemed very far away now.

Ron took out his wallet, and its thickness made my eyes bulge. Then, he slipped out a twenty dollar bill.

“I want to know why you dance here?” he said, holding the cash out to me.

Hesitant, I took it. It was crisp, and as far as I could tell, not counterfeit. “I dance here for the money,” I said, lifting the bill up to show him. That was God’s honest truth.

He peeled another bill from his wallet and held it out to me. “But why here instead of somewhere else?” he pressed.

I took the bill. “I tried the ‘somewhere else,’ everywhere else,” I said, rubbing the two bills together. I liked the sound they made. Somehow, even though I knew it was all just paper, it sounded more substantial than the sprinklings of ones I usually earned up on the main stage. “I was simply getting by…barely getting by…until I started working here. This is the first time that I can pay all of my bills on time and still have money left over.”

Ron took yet another bill out and held it between his fingers. “Why the dominatrix act?”

Forty dollars became sixty dollars. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I was frightened and shy and desperate when I tried out. It was easier to put on this mask than it was to be who I really was…a scared girl who didn’t know how much longer she could keep herself in an apartment. It isn’t fun to live in the shelters here, and I don’t like charity. I like to earn money, and I decided I had to play this part in order to get as much of it as I can.”

Another bill. “If you could do something else, would you?”

Eighty dollars. “I don’t know.” I really liked the weight of four twenties, all in my grasp, all earned within the span of just a couple of minutes. “I never really knew what I wanted to do with my life back in…back before this. This seems like a good as gig as any, and it’s better than anything else I’ve ever done. If something better came along, and I knew it was going to be better than this, I’d think about it.”

A fifth bill. “Do you have a significant other?”

A hundred dollars. A hundred whole dollars, just from answering this guy’s questions. “No.”

Ron took out yet another bill, and I squawked in protest. “This isn’t fair to you! You don’t have to waste any more of your money. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—for free.”

“A deal’s a deal,” he said, slipping the bill into my ever-growing stack. “Twenty bucks per question. You’re a quality woman, Parker, and I know quality women don’t come cheap. You should never sell yourself short.”

“Okay,” I said, uncertain. “What’s your question, then?”

“Are you on the market?” Ron asked, his eyes twinkling. “That is to say, would you consider dating someone like me?” He winced and slapped his forehead before going to his wallet again. “That was two questions.”

I gaped at the insane sum of money I was holding in my hands. This was on track to being one of the most lucrative nights I’d ever had at the club.

“I think it’s obvious you’re interested in me,” I said, blinking quickly from my set of bills to his still-open wallet, wondering faintly how many more bills would go into this transaction. “And I also think it’s obvious that I have something…that there is some kind of chemistry there.”

He made me twenty dollars richer. “And is the chemistry strong enough for you to take a chance on me?”

I paused for a long time, mulling his question seriously. A handsome man was sitting beside me on a couch in the private dance room, interested in knowing about me as a person, showering me in money without requesting sexual favors in return.

“I think I’d be stupid for not taking a chance on you,” I said, my grin matching Ron’s. “I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

“Just one date?” he asked, slipping me another twenty.

“Maybe more than one,” I allowed, trying not to freak out at all the money I was holding. If this kept up much longer, I’d have my rent money all at one go.

Another twenty made it an even two hundred bucks. “Would you like to know more about me, if it would help cement your decision?” he asked.

“I would love to know more about you, Ron,” I said.

He had inherited his money, he said, and was sort of lost over what to do with it. Not having to work for a living made living boring, he explained, and he was always looking for a new adventure. It didn’t hurt my feelings one bit to be his new adventure—at least for tonight. He’d made it more than worth my while.

“So I travel a lot,” he said.

“Really!” I exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted to travel.” My thoughts turned helplessly back to Marcus, about the promise he’d made to me to travel the world before settling down at a beach somewhere. That seemed like a whole lifetime ago, and it was easier to ignore than ever before.

“Traveling teaches so much,” Ron said. “I recommend it for everyone. Now…”—he handed me another twenty, bringing my total to two hundred twenty dollars—“… where can I take you after your shift ends tonight?”

“I…maybe somewhere to eat?” I asked. “There won’t be much open, but there’s a diner I know.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Ron said, patting my thigh gently. I hadn’t noticed until now how close we’d gotten to each other, our bodies basically pressed next to each other, side by side. If I’d wanted to, I could’ve nestled my head beneath his chin. I flushed at the notion, even though, in this very stall, I’d rubbed my breasts all over another customer’s face without so much as batting an eyelash. What continued to be so different about this encounter? I was incapable of wearing my Parker mask. What was more—I didn’t want to. Ron had demonstrated such a commitment in getting to know me that I was comfortable with him seeing me as my real self.

The fact that he was gorgeous and had money to spare to pay me for conversation…well, those were just added bonuses.

“One thing though,” I said, smiling and leaning extra close.

Ron looked surprised at my forwardness but gamely smiled back. “Shoot.”

“No more paying me for answers,” I said. “I think I’ve picked your pocket enough tonight. When we’re outside of the club, I’m completely off the clock.”

“Understood,” Ron said, and then he sneaked a light little kiss on my cheek, making me giggle like a schoolgirl.

“My shift ends in just a few minutes,” I said. “Just give me a little time to change.”

“I’ll wait for you outside,” he said, standing before offering me a hand up. “You’ll know me from my ride, a motorcycle.”

I walked lighter than usual, feeling like I was floating, toward the dressing room. There was a sudden grip around my wrist, and I whirled around, fully expecting Ron to be right behind me, eager to tell me something else about his incredible life or about what we were going to be doing as soon as we got away from this place, but I was unpleasantly surprised by my leering boss, Jake.

“Parker, darling, let me talk to you a second.” He more or less yanked me into his dank little office, his fingers tight enough around my wrist to hurt. I didn’t have to play my persona to scowl; I was doing that all on my own.

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked, raising my eyebrows and unceremoniously extricating myself from his grip.

“I just want to say, what you’ve got going for you, your whole shtick, it’s fucking fantastic,” he said, clapping his hands with nearly every syllable. “Your body is on point, and your dance moves go with everything. There isn’t a man in this club who wouldn’t fuck you, present company included.”

Discomfort crept up my spine. Jake could be direct, but it wasn’t like him to be this forward.

“Thanks,” I said, hating the uncertainty in my voice. My persona wouldn’t go for that. She was always sure of herself, and right now, I was damn sure that there was something wrong with this situation.

“I just thought I’d let you in on a little advice—unsolicited, of course,” he said, laughing jovially, clapping his hands all the while. I wondered if I was expected to continue the round of applause with him, but I really didn’t see a reason for the ovation he was giving the room. He only paused in his clapping to fidget, plucking at a pearly button on his shirt and wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead.

His pupils were wide, dilated so that they almost ate up the colored parts of his eyes—and that’s when I realized I was seeing the Jake who had just ingested God only knew how much cocaine.

“I keep seeing that customer come in here, the one who wears his hair in a bun like some grandmother,” my boss said, snorting.

“His name’s Ron,” I said before I could think better of it.

“Ron,” Jake purred, rolling the “R” for an unnecessary amount of time. “Well, darling Parker, herein lies my advice. Nothing good ever comes of a dancer dating a customer. Remember that.”

I swallowed hard. “Is there a company policy against it?” Ron had awoken something inside of me that I needed. I couldn’t turn my back on it now that I knew it was there. If I ever wanted to get over Marcus, if I ever wanted to have some semblance of a normal life, I needed Ron in it. I needed to know that I could feel as attracted to someone as he was to me. I needed that hope for the future.