Chapter Three; Black Maid
A few weeks earlier….
LUCAS'S POV
"Ah! Yes! Fuck me harder!"
I rolled my eyes as the annoying moans of the whore stung my ears. It was a huge turnoff, but I needed to let off some steam.
My father kept bothering me about getting married, reminding me of the condition that I would not inherit the company if I didn't do as he said.
It pissed me off, why should I be tied to someone for the rest of my life just because he wanted me to.
Just thinking about it annoyed me. With a low grunt, I pushed the bitch against the bed, raising her hips higher to meet the speed of my thrusts. After a few minutes I came, and I stood up without a word, tossing her a bundle of hundred dollar bills before leaving.
This was the routine, and I wished my life was simpler. As I got into my car, I shot a quick text to my good pal, Steve, asking him if he was up for drinks.
He answered immediately, and I headed towards our usual drinking spot. I spotted Steve at our designated table as I arrived at the bar, already helping himself to a glass of premium whiskey.
"Hey, man." Steve extended his hand for a handshake, and I took it as I sat down. "What's up with you?"
With a long sigh, I signaled the bartender for my usual drink, then turned my attention back to Steve.
"Same as always, my old man keeps breathing down my neck to get married. I'm so sick of it."
Steve chuckled at my expense. "Again? He's as stubborn as you are."
"Bullshit." I scoffed, taking a sip of my drink as it arrived. "He keeps ranting about how I need to settle down and take responsibility."
Steve snorted. "Like he's one to talk, he's been married three times already."
"And it never ended well," I added, recalling how my mother had to deal with his countless mistresses. The last straw was when a mistress came with a son whom she claimed was his, and my father married her shortly after my mother died. Our father-son relationship was never rosy, but it got even more strained after that.
"He also keeps threatening to sign the company off to that brat."
Steve hummed as he refilled his cup. "Your half brother huh?"
"He's not my brother." I snapped, and Steve merely shrugged his shoulders.
"Whatever man, but the boy has been making headlines in the business world."
I gave Steve a dry look, my gaze sharpening. Steve raised his hands in surrender, "Don't look at me like I'm wrong, he might catch up to you in no time."
"I came here to unwind and you're making it harder to do so." I retorted, downing my drink in one gulp.
Steve rolled his eyes, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. "Unwind you say? Don't think I don't know you stopped at the brothel before texting me."
I knew he was going to mention that, but I waved him off, "I'm beginning to get bored of going there."
"Really?" Steve gasped as if it was the most shocking thing in the world, then his surprise quickly shifted to excitement. "I can take you to a better place if you're down?"
I arched a brow, considering his offer. I had nothing to lose, and it had to be something good to make him so eager.
"Sure, let's go right now."
***
"A strip club? Really?"
I was unimpressed, but Steve emphasized how watching beautiful girls dance would be better than fucking them.
"Come on Lucas, be more open-minded." Steve chided me, grinning from ear to ear, "I know you're going to love it."
I leaned back in my seat as the room lights dimmed, giving way for the spotlight to shine on the stage before us.
"I doubt it," I noted, eyes narrowed at the stage.
A few minutes passed, and a smooth jazz song began to play. The audience of men cheered, throwing dollar bills on an empty stage. It looked like it was out of anticipation for the dancer, but I didn't get the hype. What was so special about girls dancing on a pole? I have been to strip clubs before, but no one has managed to catch my attention.
At least that's what I thought till a sheer thigh and red heels popped out of the stage curtains.
The woman stepped out, and the men went wild, even Steve bounced in his seat. My lips parted in awe as she took the stage, dressed in a black maid dress that left little to the imagination.
She wore an elegant mask that covered her whole face, adding an air of mystery and intrigue in the way she moved. But her eyes were visible through the mask, sharp, calculative, and seductive. It scanned the room with a clear mission, and my heart skipped a beat when they settled on me.
I didn't realize I had stopped breathing till she pointed my way, keeping her gaze on me as she twirled on the pole with precise grace. Her bottom peaked as the skirt of her dress hiked up, causing a tent to rise in my crotch.
It surprised me, because I was more turned on than I was at the brothel, and all I saw was a glimpse of her behind.
How can she have such an effect on me?
"Who the hell is that?" I asked Steve without looking at him, my voice barely above a whisper.
Steve laughed at my expression, throwing a casual arm over my shoulder. "That my good friend is who we call the Masked Maid, she is the most requested dancer, and for a good reason."
"That reason is too good." I couldn't take my eyes off her even if I wanted to. I was a hard man to please, but as her gaze found me once more, I felt a spark in my veins.
Slowly yet deliberately, she descended the stage. Men threw dollar bills her way, whistling for her to come to them, but instead, she stood before me, her intoxicating scent filling my nostrils.
She glanced at me and Steve, almost asking for privacy and Steve took the hint and moved to another seat, not without sending me an enthusiastic thumbs up.
"Do you mind?"
Damn her voice. It sounded like a lullaby, smooth as honey and just as sweet.
I swallowed hard, finding it hard to think straight. She took my silence as a go-ahead and straddled me, knocking the air out of my lungs in the process.
I looked up at her, knowing she could feel how hard I was. My hands trembled at my sides, itching to touch her, but there was a strict rule to not touch the dancers unless they told you to.
"Are you new here?" Her sweet voice tickled my ears as she began to grind against me, bringing me to oblivion.
"Yeah," I whispered, throwing my head back against my seat. "But you're going to see more of me."
"Hmm?" Her manicured fingers slid up my chest and grasped my jaw. I stilled as she leaned in, her mask being the only barrier between our lips. "I'll be looking forward to it."
With that said, she stood and returned to the stage, throwing me a soft kiss over her shoulder.
"Man, you're so lucky!" Steve returned, but his words flew over my head, still trying to process what just happened. "She doesn't normally do that, looks like you caught her attention," he added.
My smirk came slow. "And she has successfully caught mine."
"Well she is a real mystery, no one knows her real identity under the mask." Steve looked back to the stage, "I would have found out if I wanted to, but it would ruin the fun."
Unlike Steve, I thought the fun had only just begun.