The Billionaire and the Stripper

Name: The Billionaire and the Stripper
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AMJAE Writes

Adventure | Ongoing

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"Why are you leaving?"I took his right hand and placed it on my bare skin and instantly regretted it because the warmth coming from him was enough to make me trip and lose balance. I poised myself, trailing my hand through the expensive shirt he wore underneath his suit. "The show hasn't even started and youre leaving?"I whispered in his ear, biting gently on his earlobe, making him let out an almost inaudible groan. ********** When Twenty-three-year-old Addison Rodriguez is asked to do a private show for the one and only Harris Greer, declining wasn't an option. Not for the money, no. But because she's been loving him from afar and she's finally got the chance to shoot her shot with him. And missing this opportunity was not on her agenda. _______

Modern Gold digging Love at first sight CEO Attractive Sweet Age gap Romance Billionaires

Chapter 3 Harris Greer

09-06 10:00

Chapter 1 His favorite stripper

Addie

"If it is worth it, it won't come easy."

This was a sentence that made absolutely no sense to me at all. I couldn't help but wonder why one had to suffer to deserve nice things? Why one needed to labour to achieve the finer things in life or merely afford the basic necessities?

Feeding, housing and health? Why? And those who were handed these on a platter of gold effortlessly wasted them?

It made absolutely no sense to me.

But somehow, living in a city as big as Vegas, I'd learn to consider myself lucky to be able afford a roof over my head and have at least two meals a day.

As I walked the streets of Jones Boulevard on a cool Friday evening heading for work, I couldn't help but take pity a homeless woman who took shelter under a tree.

Eight months ago, I was no different from this woman. And now, I was grateful I could afford things this woman couldn't. A job that gave me a roof over my head and food to eat.

I took out my right hand from the thick red blazer I had on and threw in a bill of fifty into the woman's bowl, offered the her a warm smile, and then continued my way through the busy streets.

Jones Boulevard was known for its numerous social activities. Sports clubs, restaurants, nightclubs, everything that served as a means to let go of the stress of the week.

The streets were getting busier with each passing minute, people on dates walking hand in hand, some just out for a walk, and others dressed nicely, probably headed for one of the numerous clubs in the area.

For them, it was the start of a fun weekend. But for me, it was like any other day walking to work. I negotiated a corner and continued my walk to the club, which was about a stone throw from here. The parking lot was already crowded as expected on a Friday night.

I raised my hand, waving to the bouncer of a neighboring club who smiled at me and then continued my way. I turned to the left and then the next minute, I was holding up my purse to the bouncer who had a look at my ID Card before letting me in.

This was an everyday routine, and it became tiring to me, having to present myself every day to the same bouncer. I was quite certain I hadn't changed since the last time I presented herself here, which was not up to twenty-four hours ago.

Music and loud cheering could be heard from inside the club, which could only mean there was a show currently going on. I ignored the loud cheering and whistles and walked to my dressing room.

The door closed behind me, I stripped off my blazer and walked towards the movable wardrobe, picking out a small outfit that didn't leave much to the imagination of perverts.

But hey, club rules.

Holding up two outfits on a hangar, I pondered. I couldn't conclude what to wear. After a while of intense deliberation, I settled for a pink two-piece bikini with fishnets and leggings.

I loathe the colour pink.

Personally, I didn't see the need for this, but if there's one thing I've learnt in over six months of working here, it made the crowd happy and when the crow is happy, more tips for me.

I walked over to her dresser to get started with her make-up. The manager requested that we do a 'full-blown -make-up' which to me, roughly translates to 'hooker' and I hated it. But there wasn't much I could do.

Make-up generally isn't my thing. I love being natural. Well, maybe once in a while, I would apply a little bit of concealer and powder to feel prettier, and that was it.

But then again, in this line of business, flashy things made customers happy.

Flashy outfits. Flashy make-up. Flashing titts too.

I scoffed. I looked like a clown by the time I was done with her make-up. In the moment, the end of my show couldn't come soon enough so I got rid of this hideous make-up.

A light knock on the door has me looking in that direction.

"Hey, are you ready" Ton, the bouncer, yelled from outside the dressing room.

"Be out in a minute." I yell back. I took a deep breath, giving myself the mental pep talk I would do every day before mounting the stage.

'You got this, Addie. Ten minutes and it will be over. You got this,'

After working here for the past six months, one would think that I must have gotten used to the stage and its monotony, but they couldn't be more wrong. I covered myself with the blazer I had on earlier. I closed the door to the dresser, my hand lingering on the doorknob for a while.

I took one last deep breath before walking through the hallway; the music getting louder the closer I got to the main club.

"You're going to do great," Lynn cheered at me.

Lynn has honey blonde hair that is laid on her shoulder with freckles scattered on the tip of her nose. She stands taller than me, about an inch or two taller. Lynn's facial features were attractive and seductive, still, at the same time, the freckles on her face and her smile gave off an innocent side to her. Like a dove.

I reply with a warm smile as a response. Lynn had just finished her performance because she was still in the same outfit she used yesterday. Now, I stood on the steps and listened as the DJ introduced me.

"Ladies and gentle, the queen of the podium, your biggest fantasy: Isis kiss!" the DJ said over the megaphone, making the crowd go wild as they applauded. I let out a deep breath. That was my cue.

The crowd cheered as I mounted the podium. The shouting and whistling only grew wilder with every step I took towards the pole.

I held on tight to my red blazer. The nerves I felt back in the dressing room only tripled. My palms were sweaty, and my legs were wobbly over the six-inch stripper boots I wore. I stood next to the pole, still holding tight to my blazer and waited for the cheering to die down.

Then, the lights went off and the spotlight was on me. The room became so quiet one could hear a pin drop. The beat starts. I lift my head abruptly, the confidence I lost earlier surging through me like a lightning bolt. My blazer gradually fell off my shoulder, and I threw it in one corner, hoping Lynn would catch it.

I start to sway her hips to the sound of Chris Brown's Under the Influence.

On stage, I am Isis s kiss, an epitome of beauty that drives men crazy. But in real life, I am shy and reserved, but that wouldn't stop me from becoming his favorite stripper.

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