HIS PERSONAL STRIPPER
Curvy Women Wanted, 7
Sam Crescent
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
Jack Kent had never seen anyone like her, and right now he didn’t like that he drove around the city catching glimpses of her. She’d passed his office over half an hour ago, and he’d never had such an intense reaction to someone without at least knowing them first. Her blonde hair went down to her ass, brushing the rounded curves like the tips of fingers begging for more.
One look at her body and his dick was harder than it had ever been in his life. He wanted her so damn bad. He wanted to fuck her, ride her hard, and to take her.
Being one of the richest men in the world, he always got what he wanted. Everyone had a price, and this woman had hers. He just needed to figure out what it was that would tempt her.
They came to a crossing. The light turned red, making them stop, and just at that point the mystery blonde glanced over her shoulder and he got a good look at her face. The face of an angel.
His desire went through the fucking roof. Full, lush lips that would look so damn good wrapped around his dick. The things he wanted to do to her were sinful. Her body was designed for fucking, and he intended to be the man to do it. His driver followed her all the way toward a very run-down diner.
Jack watched as she went inside, taking a seat near one of the windows. She sat alone for a good ten minutes, and he also noticed that she counted change on the counter.
If she was strapped for cash, then he knew how to get her to belong to him.
“Sir, don’t you want to wait?” his driver asked.
“Stay here, Wallace,” Jack said, climbing out of the car. He stuck out like a sore fucking thumb, but he didn’t care.
At forty years old, Jack knew how to handle himself. It was why he’d become one of the richest men in the world at such a young age.
Entering the diner, he didn’t even wait. As he took a seat in her booth, she looked up and he stared into her very expressive blue gaze.
“Excuse me,” she said. “That seat could be taken.”
He loved the attitude. It turned him on even more.
When she was finally underneath him, he wanted that fire. He’d have her begging for more.
“Then they can find somewhere else to sit.”
She gathered up her change, placing it in her worn purse. He’d buy her anything she wanted. Every single luxury that her heart desired, he’d give her. All she had to do was belong to him.
He liked having pretty things, and she was one of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her blonde hair glistened like gold, and the blue of her eyes reminded him of the Mediterranean.
When she made to get up, he reached out and captured her arm. She grabbed his wrist and shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I don’t like being touched unless I give permission.”
“One day soon, you’ll give permission.”
“You’re a cocky one.” She pulled her hand away and stared across the table at him. “Who are you?”
“Jack Kent.” He held his hand out, but she didn’t take it.
“You’re not from around here. A suit like that costs more than anyone here makes in a year. What do you want?” she asked.
“I want to know your name.” Once he had her name, he had everything. All he’d need to do was get her information to his private detective.
“My name? That’s all you want?”
“Your real name.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you think I’m that stupid?” she asked.
He glanced down at her, seeing the worn clothes, recalling the fact she was counting her change. “Tell me, are you desperate for money? Out of a job maybe?”
“What’s it to you?”
“It’s such a hard time to find work. Good, reliable work that pays the bills.” He reached into his jacket pocket. “I’ve got a job in mind for you. I give you this card, and I guarantee you a salary that you’ll not get anywhere else.”
She nibbled her lip. “What kind of salary?”
Jack held his card out. “Let’s say you’d be earning a minimum of a hundred grand every single year.” He dangled the temptation in front of her. “All I require is your name.”
This woman didn’t give in too easily. “You don’t know me. You don’t know if I have a college education or if I’m a high school dropout.”
He smiled.
“Sex?”
Jack stared at her.
“That’s what you want?” she asked. “Sex? You want me to be a whore?”
He shook his head. “Let’s just start with a name. I can promise you that you’ll only be with me. I don’t share what I want.”
“Cut the crap. Tell it to me straight.”
“I want you. It’s that simple. Give me your name, and you can have this card. It’ll be up to you if you decide to take a chance.” He held the card out and stared at her. “If you’re struggling for money, I can make everything go away, including any debt. All you’ve got to do is give me your name, and if you’re ready to take a chance, call the number on the card.”
She licked her lips, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before she was licking his dick.
“Rachel. Rachel Sterling.”
Jack handed her the card. “I hope to hear from you soon.”
She took the card from him, but he didn’t linger. Instead, he dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “Enjoy your dinner.”
Climbing back into his car, he grabbed his cell phone, dialing his private investigator. Within twenty-four hours he’d have every single secret about Rachel Sterling.
She’d call.
He knew she would.
The woman was a survivor. He saw it in her eyes, and when he finally possessed her, it was going to be fire.
****
Rachel stared at the card in her hand while she sat on her mattress, which was on the floor of her apartment. She’d lost her job about a year ago, and she had moved out of her rather nice place and moved into this piece of shit. Furniture prices had been ridiculous, so she had nothing. On her tight budget, she’d not even been able to afford flea market prices. The single mattress she owned was her only furniture. At least the apartment came with a stove for her to cook. Not that ramen noodles needed all that much to cook.
Work was impossible to come by.
Her life had taken a dramatic turn when the company she worked for went under. Everyone lost their job. She’d not panicked. Going to the job center, she’d begun her hunt for new work. She was either overqualified for a position or not qualified enough, and so began her year of utter bad luck.
She hadn’t been able to pay this month’s rent, and within a few days she expected to come home to find her stuff tossed out onto the street. Her life had gone to shit, and she had absolutely no control over anything.
Just thinking about it made tears spring to her eyes, which was why she held Jack Kent’s card and her cell phone, which she only possessed to arrange interviews. Her life had gone that badly that quickly.
He wanted sex.
Jack oozed sex and money.
She’d never for a second thought about selling her body for money, but the money he offered she couldn’t turn down.
Did she want to do it? Hell no.
Did she have a choice? Hell no.
She didn’t want to go on the streets, nor did she want to do this, but life had taken choices out of her hands one year ago.
Tapping her finger on one knee, she tried to think of something else.
Other than selling her body on the street, she had nothing.
Typing in his number, she stared at his card, then at the screen on her cell phone before hitting the green button to begin the call.
Pressing the phone against her ear, every single part of her rebelled against making this call. She didn’t want to rely on a complete stranger, even if that man did seem to be genuine. After he’d given her the card, she’d gone to check out the name and was surprised to see he was in fact who he said he was.
A player.
A rich, wealthy businessman.
One of the richest men in the world.
Pushing all those thoughts aside, she waited, her heart pounding, and tried to think of what she could say.
“Kent.” His voice was deep and rich as he spoke.
“Hi, yes, I don’t know if you remember me. It’s Rachel Sterling.” She nibbled her lip, hoping he’d not laugh at her over some kind of prank. Desperation clawed at her.
“I remember you.”
Why did that make her shiver? Her nipples tightened at the promise in his voice. Cutting it off, she stared at his card.
“Have you come to a decision?” he asked.
“I want to know what you want from me first. What this is all about?”
“It’s simple. I saw you, I want you, and you’re going to be mine.”
She didn’t have the first clue what to say about that.
The boyfriends she’d had in the past were in no way like this. Sure, they’d told her she was beautiful, but other than that, she’d not really expected this.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
“It depends on how far you’re willing to go.”
She sighed. “Please, stop being vague. I don’t have the energy for this right now.”
“Be ready in one hour.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I’m coming to pick you up. We’ll have a little taste of what I want, and then you can make that final decision. Goodbye, Rachel.”
“Wait, don’t you need to know my address?” she asked.
“I already know where you live.”
The line disconnected, and she stared at the phone. He knew where she lived. If he’d been a real threat, like one of those traffickers, he’d have already abducted her, right? Were rich men part of that craziness?
Her mind rushed, and she didn’t know what to do, what to say. Standing up, she looked down at how she was dressed. Pajama shorts with holes and a ratty old shirt that had seen better days.
Quickly removing her clothes, she grabbed her only decent pair of jeans and a shirt. Everything she wore molded to her size sixteen curves. No amount of bullying from her peers would ever see her get rid of her curves. She happened to love her hips, her rounded ass, and her large tits.
She loved her fuller body, and wouldn’t dream of working out to change who she was.
An hour later she paced the floor of her apartment, waiting, wondering what to do. She moved to the window, waiting to see if he’d even turn up.
Rachel spotted the car waiting by the curb. Once again, her heart began to race. Stepping away from the window, she grabbed her bag and cell phone, just in case.
“I hate this,” she said. “Just get it done. It has to be better than ending up on the streets.”
Leaving her apartment, she locked the door and made her way down the long flight of steps. The scent of desperation filled the air of the apartment.
As she walked, she knew that her life was about to change. When she left the building, she saw the driver standing beside the passenger door. He didn’t say a word, but opened the door.
Taking another deep breath, she bent down, and climbed into the car. The scent of leather was heavy in the air, and she turned to her right to see Jack Kent leaning against the other door.
“You made the right decision.”