Page 88 of Billionaire’s Promise

“I’ll find you something. Something you can’t turn down.” Her voice was husky, and her eyes were like a laser focused on mine.

“I would appreciate that,” I murmured seductively and let my tongue flick out to wet my lips.

My family had started a chain of hotels when great-great-whatever grand-daddy Jesse, Jr, had fathered a daughter. She had turned a boarding house into a string of hotels out in Kansas, and the coming generations expanded it west. By the time I came along, the family had a hotel in almost every single state in the west. Now, I wanted to move the family east, and Myrtle Beach was a hidden jewel I wanted to wrap in a platinum setting. I hadn’t counted on the Thompson Hotel chain’s resistance.

“I guess that’s all we need to talk about for now. Thank you for the work you’ve done so far, Liz. I’ll expect a call if you find something suitable.” I stood, buttoned the panels of my suit coat, and made to leave.

“Oh, now, as your real estate agent, Dylan, I can’t just let you leave empty-handed. I have a wonderful house going if you’re looking for a private home on the waterfront.” She started her spiel, and I shut her down.

“Not interested in that, just resort property. Take care now.” I inhaled deeply as I left the room of one of the top estate agencies in the area, and made my way to the parking garage. I needed to relax. I’d been dealing with this family for two long months now, and I had deserved a break.

I decided to take the night off and head out to the gentlemen's club I’d been introduced to upon my arrival. I’d met up with an old friend, Freddy Sinclair, and he’d shown me the best parts of this wonderful little beach town. He’d also shown me the spots the tourists would never find out about.

Like Elmo’s. The strip club/sex club I kept my nose out of kind of place. It was exclusive, kept quiet, and entry was by invite only, if you were a man or woman looking to partake in the custom Elmo’s had to offer.

I liked the finer things in life, and the girls at Elmo’s were of the highest caliber; I’d give them that. I hadn’t found exactly what I wanted there yet, but I knew patience would pay off. It always did.

I made it to the club and walked in the secluded entrance in the back. From the front, the place looked like an abandoned store with three levels. Red paint covered every square inch, and the place looked like a gaudy dump. It didn’t look much better in the back; all of the windows and every surface had been painted black. There was a shiny new gold knob on the door, however, and I put my hand on it but didn’t turn.

Beneath the round knob was a palm scanner. If it accepted your palm print, the door would open on its own, as it did now. “Welcome, Mr. James.”

The door person was a rather breathy and busty brunette, but she was off-limits. “Thank you, Miss Maples. Lovely to see you again.”

“A pleasure as always. What will it be today?” The owner of the club didn’t often sit and guard the door, but sometimes she could be found here.

“I just need a quiet place to watch some beautiful ladies dance their hearts out.” It wasn’t a past-time I’d take part in back home in Kansas, but here, I’d learned to live a little on the wilder side.

I could be me here, with all of my proclivities and vices.

“Enjoy the show; Roxie’s on in ten.” Miss Maples turned away even as she spoke, my presence already forgotten as someone else buzzed in.

I ordered a drink at the bar and sat. The shoddy exterior, designed to keep out curious onlookers, did not match the interior. The first floor housed a bar, a stage, and a small club on the other side of that. The club was a separate part of the first floor, one I rarely went into because I wasn’t into rave-style hedonism. I was much too old for that crowd.

I preferred the darkness of the stage area and to watch the pole dancing magic. Roxie would be on soon, and I wanted to speak to her anyway. I’d noticed her quite a few times, but I hadn’t spoken to her yet. I wanted to know if we could, perhaps, take part in one of the peculiar arrangements available at Elmo’s.

I watched her go through her routine, effortless beauty, stunning grace, and skills beyond measure on display. Roxie never disappointed her viewers, and the tips she brought in proved that. She started a new routine, and I waited, my interest growing. If she could move like that on a pole, how well could she move on a man?

Sexist, perhaps disgusting, but people didn’t come to Elmo’s to find love; they came to relax, get turned on, and maybe fuck, if they were lucky. I saw Freddy, the man who had introduced me to the place, and wondered… Was he Roxie’s protector now?

Freddy was a very handsome man, I’d give him that, and he’d never had problems with women. Those brown puppy dog eyes and blond hair kept the ladies on a leash, begging to take care of him. I, on the other hand, had black hair, dark gray eyes and was so tall and broad women often found me intimidating. If the broadness had been fat, it might have softened my appearance a bit, but every inch of me was covered in muscle. I worked hard to maintain my health, and I didn’t allow an ounce of fat to form on me.

I didn’t often have a problem finding a bed partner, though; there were plenty of women brave enough to take the challenge I offered them. Women with eyes that gave off sparks of defiance, that eventually ended up begging for me to make them mine. I never did, though. The minute their will broke, I was done and moved on to the next. A handsome face made that much easier.

I wanted Roxie, but if she was under Freddy’s protection, then I’d have to look elsewhere. A dainty blonde, small and delicate, caught my eye. She had on a silky emerald robe that flowed out behind her as she walked around the room, in search of a man to entertain. There were about eleven other customers in the room, but she didn’t spend much time with any of them.

She flitted around, nervous, with a fear in her eyes. I would guess it was that fear that drove the men to send her away. Nobody wanted an unwilling partner. That was the cost of protection after all. The arrangement was about sex, and nothing more. We would pay to protect the ladies, in a sense, and in exchange, we were free to enjoy each other. We were all adults, however, and knew that arrangement meant sex.

If the woman wasn’t into a guy, then she could turn him down, no problem. Most arrangements were made through Miss Maples or Roxie. It was all done in a way to protect all involved, from all manners of problems, and could be ended without notice to either party. Maybe this woman would do that for me? If we could get rid of that fear.

“Hello there, gorgeous,” she said softly as she made her way up to me. I looked her over, noted the sweet swell of large breasts beneath the panels of the robe and a slim waist too. The perfect little doll for me to play with, maybe.

“What’s your name, angel?” We all knew the women used fake names, but we played along. They needed their privacy and dignity, after all.

She wore a white mask, a wide ribbon of silk with the eyes cut out so they could see. The white looked almost silver it was so shimmery, and on this young woman, it made her appearance more tantalizing while enabling her to remain anonymous. All the girls in training wore them as a way to let customers know they were new, and as a way for them to maintain their dignity until they were sure this was the life they wanted. That strip of silk would allow her to return to her life without anyone knowing what she looked like without it.

“Why, I think you just gave it to me.” She spoke with a deep Southern accent, the kind that made my balls go tight. Sweet, submissive, and so sultry.

“Indeed? Would you like to sit?” Her eyes had darted around nervously, her hands clasped together until she sat. She relaxed the moment she did, and I wondered if the heels had pained her. Six-inch heels were hard for any woman to stand in.