His Stripper (Dance For Me)

I’m going to have to kick her out. She can’t stay with me, not when she’s impacting my ability to think clearly, not when every thought is shrouded by the image of her sucking my cock.

Fuck. I’ve really messed up this time. How the hell am I going to break the news to Hazel? She’ll be fucking heartbroken. But I have to do it… after I conduct a background check on the little temptress.

Her dance finally comes to an end, and I choose to ignore the swelling throb in my pants that’s trying to force me to find her and fuck her into submission. She’ll be back in the dressing room now, comparing her experience with the other girls. It’s the perfect moment for me to do the background check and convince myself not to help her further.

I head into my office and lock the door behind me. After powering up my computer, I begin the steps to find out everything I can about Hazel.

There’s not much to find. She doesn’t have a police record, but there’s some dirt on her in the program I have access to, even though I fucking shouldn’t. She’s a foster kid. She’s had a tough life, really fucking tough. Both parents gone, and then she was kicked out of her last home when she turned eighteen. It’s not a mystery to me that she was living in her mess of a car, but seeing her sad little life summed up into a couple of lines on my computer screen almost makes me feel bad for her.

But I can’t let myself go weak for this girl. I don’t let anyone awaken my human side because I think it’s a weakness. The moment you let people in, you open yourself to being vulnerable. And there are people out there, bad people just like me, who would turn this into an opportunity to abuse me. And even though Hazel’s record indicates she’s clean, I can’t trust her. I don’t trust any-fucking-one. I’m not about to risk being betrayed by the girl just because I can’t stop thinking about sinking my dick in her sweet little pussy.

Fuck.

I can’t bring myself to kick her out. I can’t bring myself to let her dance here either because the thought makes me want to gouge out the eyes of every guy watching her. I’m already getting possessive about the chick even though I’ve barely known her for five minutes, and I know that’s dangerous.

I don’t let myself go weak for anybody. Not my brothers, not the girls who dance here, and certainly not for an eighteen-year-old virgin with a shitty past.

I need to go back downstairs and sort this out once and for all.

Shutting down my computer, I force myself to take deep breaths before descending the stairs and barging straight into the dressing room, where Hazel is laughing along with the other girls.

Something takes over me, like a need to protect her, when I see Holly looking at her with critical eyes. I can tell she’s jealous, and she has every reason to be. Seeing her on the stage, I already know Hazel’s a natural. The tips were probably shit tonight since there were only two guests, but Hazel could make good money here. Certainly enough to get out of her shitty situation, find a place to live, and start her life on better terms—her own.

“Come on,” I bark at her without saying a word about her performance. “It’s time to go home.”

She nods, her smile faltering as she hugs the girls goodbye. She changes in front of me as if I’m one of her friends whom she doesn’t give a shit about seeing her naked. But as those panties slide over the smooth expanse of her ass, my hands form fists, and my nails dig into my palms painfully. Fuck me, she’s goddamn hot. I can’t resist her. I have to get her as far away from me as fucking possible because this is already a recipe for disaster.

“Come on,” I order once she’s put her clothes back on. “I don’t have all day to wait around for you.”

She flushes, muttering an apology as she grabs her handbag and follows me out of the room. We’re in the hallway now, and she’s gearing up to ask me something. I can tell by her needy glances.

“So… did you watch?”

Fuck. How the hell do I answer that?

Do I go for honesty and tell her that her little dance routine got my cock impossibly hard? Do I tell her all I can think about is that—probably untouched—prize between her legs that’s got my dick throbbing like crazy?

Or do I fucking nip this in the bud? I could tell her here and now I’m done helping her, that she needs to pack her shit and get the hell out of my place before the night is over.