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“All right, ladies,” Ramirez said. “You’re gonna show these fellas a good time tonight… Anything goes.”
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Evan had been smoking a cigar while he sat in a private room and waited for his private dancer to return. A sexy playlist of explicit music played in the background, setting the mood for scandalous activities. The mirrored room was dark with neon orange lighting. A wide triangle platform was set up in the center, with a pole in the middle. Sitting on a half-moon sofa, Evan exhaled hoops of smoke in the air.
After a ten-minute wait, a dark-haired stripper returned with a fancy chest full of condoms and sex toys. Her sapphire eyes seemed to glow as she stood in front of her client and opened the chest, wearing nothing but sparkly nipple pasties and a G-string.
“Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” She winked.
“I’ve got my own,” he said, retrieving a Magnum from his wallet.
“I’m gonna takerealgood care of you tonight, big boy.”
Towering over Evan in eight-inch heels, her flawless body was free of tattoos and piercings, and her B cup breasts were not surgically enhanced. Antonio was aware of Evan’s type, which explained why he had advised his employee to cover up her ink for her VIP client.
“What’s your name, love?” Evan puffed a cloud of smoke.
“Roxy.”
He smiled and said, “Yourrealname.”
“Roxy.”
“I see how it is.” He looked amused. “Did you bring what I asked for?”
She nodded, pulling out a cosmetic item.
“May I?”
Handing it over, she eyed him in curiosity, watching as Evan smeared the sangria colored lip liner along the left side of her abdomen to create what was supposed to look like a six-inch scar.
“I’ve done a lot of kinky things for clients, but this has got to be the weirdest by far.” She laughed, stepping on the platform. “You’re pretty hot, though, so I can’t complain. Most of my clientele are old guys who wanna spank me or get spanked.”
Roxy turned on some music and swung her weight around the pole while Evan admired her perky breasts to her toned stomach, fixating on the imitation “scar” he had drawn, right where her kidney was located.
Aria.
She was all he could think about.
“Would you like to make a lot of money tonight, love?”
“Oh, yes”—the stripper slid down the pole into the splits—“I won’t disappoint.”
“Good.” He blew out another ring of smoke and said, “Hair down, heels off, and saddle up on me.”
Seduction dripped from Roxy’s desirable body as she stepped off the platform and obeyed Evan’s commands.
“I’m gonna take care of you, baby”—she straddled his lap—“I always go the extra mile for a buff daddy.” She rubbed his chest with her manicured hands, planting a kiss on his neck, unaware that he was fantasizing about Aria the entire time.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Darkest Days
Cambridge MA, Oct 1999
Throughout Harvard’s campus, Noah Hunter’s loft was popularly known as the best place to party. The young man had established a notorious reputation that had got him into hot water—but there was nothing that money couldn’t fix, according to him. Among his peers, Noah was the typical “rich boy” who appeared to have it all, but looks are deceiving. He was battling the darkest demons. Drugs, sex, and alcohol had become his way of life, and if he continued this reckless routine, he would end up on academic probation. It seemed a miracle he had made it to his junior year.
It was a Friday night, and Noah’s place was packed with college students who were drinking underage and using drugs. The music was so loud that a neighbor was bound to make a complaint. Noah knew that by the end of the night, his loft would look like a dump once everyone would leave. But he never had to worry about cleaning up since he could afford maid services.
