Chapter 23

Jasper

The air is thick with smoke.

Not cigarette smoke. Shit, no.

It’s the artificial stuff, the kind that gives the right mood in a strip club.

You don’t want to see the girls in bright, neon-type lighting. Oh no, it’s got to be just the right kind of fucking light.

Apparently, research has been done into this shit. And according to research, strip clubs need smoke, and lots of it. I do as my manager suggests. He’s a fucking genius and is my right-hand man.

The lighting, the smoke—it’s all very sexy and it makes me a ton of fucking money. Of course, the club has to have the best of the best and the latest in state-of-the-art technology. It pays to stand out, and we do.

My club caters to the elite. It’s not open to the public, and only the people who think they are somebody can join. If you’ve got money, lots of it, then you’re somebody.

We’re here to offer top-of-the-line service to the rich and famous. If you haven’t got money, forget it, you’re not welcome. I don’t believe in charity in the entertainment industry.

For charity, I might make a donation to some worthy cause, but it doesn’t belong in my club.

Fuck, my girls are too valuable to have some deadbeat low-life touching them. They deserve better, and we certainly cater to that. I’ve got the best of the best working for me. My girls are more valuable than most elite athletes.

I keep membership prices steep. You’ve got to be committed and have the bucks behind you if you want to be a member.

Another way we stand out: we offer memberships to both men and women. We’re not an exclusive male club. Fuck, I don’t believe in segregation like that.

Let a woman in, I say, if she’s prepared to pay. I won’t even ask why she’s here.

I’m leaning against the side of the bar and watching the show. We’ve hired a new dancer.

My eyes scan the room. It’s not overly crowded yet. I don’t recognize anyone important.

It’s a good idea to get the girl used to the place when we’re not packed. It can be intimidating to be here dancing when the place is packed.

When it’s that crowded, some of the men—and a few women—try and get onto the stage. Our bouncers have their hands full on those nights.

No doubt about it, the new girl I’m watching has talent. Her upper body bends backwards until her hands touch the floor behind her back. She kicks her right leg up in the air, followed by the left. When she stands again, she’s holding her panties in her right hand.

A lot of the guys near the front are cheering and clapping. For once, I only appreciate the show for the skill involved.

Sure, I can see the woman is hot. She’s got class. Black long hair cascades down her naked back. Her tits look fleshy and adorned with soft pink nipples. Flat abdomen, and I’m sure her pussy is as good as the rest of her.

Strangely, though, I don’t feel the need to go over and fuck this beauty. Black Beauty. Her name should be Black Beauty, I decide, and make a mental note to raise this with Cam, my manager, later.

The new girl is not alone onstage. There are four others alongside her.

Two of them are now naked, with only their thongs still on, the one piece they usually keep on to collect their well-earned tip.

Black Beauty took hers off in that amazing backwards walkover. I wonder how she’ll collect her tips.

Seconds later, she tosses her tight black mini skirt into a small group of men huddled near the front.

Now I can see a thin gold belt around her waist, a belt soon holding numerous hundred-dollar bills.

“What brings you here today, boss?” Cam taps me on the shoulder.

I spin around. “Checking up on business.”

I don’t like it when people surprise me like this. My fist instinctively came up to my chin into a defensive position.

“Chill, man,” Cam laughs at my fist.

Fuck, if anyone scares me like that from behind, they’re taking their life into their own hands.

“How are things going?” I ask and look back at the dancing girls.

This new girl knows the most amazing moves. She seems to be super flexible, and right now, I can’t work out where her body begins, her legs and arms end, and her head is.

“You mean with the new girl?” Cam thrusts his chin in the direction of the dancer.

“She’s good, I can tell. She’ll pull the men in,” I say.

“Business is great. The figures for last month were stable, not high, not low. Nothing drastic to report. I don’t think we’re doing better than last year, but we’re also doing no worse.”

“Good,” I say casting my eyes in the direction of Black Beauty.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Normally, I’d be all over her. But something in it feels wrong, like I’d be betraying Aurora or my true goddamn feelings.

Even though this woman is awesome, my cock’s…I mean, my heart’s just not in it. Part of the reason may be that in my head, I keep comparing her to Aurora.

Aurora, who has milky white skin, perfect curves, gorgeous blue eyes, and angelic features.

Aurora, who is exquisitely delicate, unique, and otherworldly.

Aurora.

It’s fucking obvious. I’m obsessed with Aurora.

“I’ll be seeing you.” I turn away from the show. “There’s something I need to do.”

“Later,” Cam walks away and gives me a casual wave.

With large strides, I leave the club and head home. I’ve got something important on my mind.

Back in my penthouse, I take to the punching bag. It’s in the gym that I’ve outfitted with every manner of equipment essential to keeping up good health.

The punching bag is naturally my favorite feature. It comes in handy when I’ve got shit going on in my life. Right now, I need to it to vent and work up a fucking sweat.

Left jab, right jab, and left again. I go over and over, pounding my aggression and inner turmoil out on the bag. It becomes clear to me what the fuck I need to do, and yet I’m resisting.

I’m not the type to resist. I’m full of fucking action.

But I can’t do what I want. I promised my brothers. We all promised.

We promised not to go after Aurora. And yet I can’t stop thinking about her.

I want her. My fucking cock wants more.

Ever since that night, when we took her virginity, I haven’t been the same. I’ve increased my workouts and spent more hours at work, but nothing’s helped.

I’m like some lovesick puppy.

Only one way to fix it. Call her, fuck her, and get her out of my system. Easy. With any luck, my brothers will never know I broke the brotherhood bond.

What the fuck am I talking about? We hardly get along as it is.

Does it really matter if I go against my own word? They’ll never even know. I just need one more time with her to get her out of my system.

Sweat is pouring down my back and chest, and I stop. I’m breathing heavily and feel no better. The urge to punch someone is still surging through me like massive electric currents.

Instead of keeping on with my impromptu boxing session, I walk over to my desk. In the top drawer, I’ve got her phone number.

I doubt the others asked for it. I did, and I got it.

As I stare at the numbers, written by her, I feel my cock stir to life. I have to call her. I owe it to my cock.

Since fucking Aurora, my dick’s hasn’t been interested in any other pussy. It’s never gone this long between good fucks.

I take a deep breath and enter the numbers from the paper into my phone.

One ring, two rings, three rings, and I’m about to hang up when I hear her breathless voice come through the receiver.

“Hello, Aurora speaking.”

Such delicate tones. Her voice is music to my cock.

“Hi, Aurora. It’s Jasper.”

“Hi,” she says simply.

I think she’s purring. My cock’s rock hard.

“How are you?”

Small talk is usually not my thing, but I want to make this moment last as long as I can.

“Fine, and you?”

“Good. I just wanted to make sure you’re fine after the other night and not, you know…” I trail off because I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with this.

“I feel great, thank you for asking.”

I can’t believe how fucking polite she is.

“And I wanted to see if you’d meet me again.”

Here goes nothing. I’ll find out if she says yes or no. Up until I actually asked the question, I never considered she’d say no. But suddenly, I’m not so sure.

I mean, no woman has ever said no to me, Jasper Grayson. I’d hate this to be the first time.

“Sounds great. Where are we going?”

I chuckle and feel a sense of victory. “Let me surprise you.”

It’ll be one date she won’t forget in a hurry. I’ll make sure of it.