Estella Vega is desperate. Her always-up-to-no-good brother is in trouble, and she’s the only one who can save him. The condition? Beco a call girl. But one dance for her first client, and she’s in a whole lot of trouble.
Mufasa Rhys is only looking to spend a quiet night in his hotel room, enjoying his own company, until a stripper shows up at his door. He never called for her, and he’s certain it’s the wrong door. But when his eyes flicker over her, he finds himself changing his plans quickly.
He might be the wrong guy, but he’s positive that she’s the right woman.
And he’s going to get her.
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1: Estella.
"Clothes off," Vivian orders, not bothering to look my way as she clicks on her keyboard with her perfectly polished nails. She hits each key with precision while I sit there, unsure if I heard her right. "I don’t have all day and we’re down a girl. Do you want the job or not?"
She turns her head away from her computer screen to finally look my way. It’s the first ti she’s bothered to look at since another woman led into her pristine office. This place is nothing like I thought it was going to be. I’d swear I was in a law office and not a place for call girls and strippers.
Her large red-rimd glasses sit on the edge of her nose. She looks like a naughty teacher ready to give out a spanking, and I swallow hard because I’m definitely not looking for one.
"I want the job," I rush to say as I wet my lips.
I can’t rember the last ti I was naked in front of another person, and I thought we’d build up to it. Looks like I was wrong. I slowly get up from the chair and pull my dress over my head. I clench it in my hand, telling myself over and over not to cover my body with my hands. Her eyes go from to the papers on her desk. Her eyes scan the docunt as they scanned —with precision and no emotion.
"Cheerleader?" Her lips twitch.
"Yeah." The application asked for dance experience. I left out that it was for the elentary school football team in my small town. She leans back in her chair, and her eyes roam over again. The urge to bring my dress to my chest to cover myself is so strong I have to fight my twitching muscles.
"Are you sure you want to do this? You can’t even take the rest of your clothes off." She motions towards my bra and panties.
"I can." I put my dress in the chair behind and begin to unclasp my bra.
"Put your dress back on." She lets out a long sigh.
I realize I’m not getting the job, and I start to panic. I’m desperate.
"I can do this, I swear," I hurry to say. Gah. I’ve ssed this up, and I need it so bad right now. What is wrong with ? Of course I have to take my clothes off for this.
Fear swamps , and I think for the thousandth ti, How did I get here? Then it’s followed quickly by the mory of my brother once again getting himself in too deep.
"I’ve seen enough. This might actually work."
I’m shocked as I quickly put my clothes on and instantly feel better. Please, I silently beg.
"The shy innocent thing sells." She scribbles sothing down on the paper. "I have a bachelor party tonight. You only have to strip for him, and the panties stay on." She grabs another piece of paper and starts to write more. "I’m giving you a chance, so don’t screw it up. I’ll send a driver for you and you’ll have a bodyguard." She reaches out, handing the paper. I take it from her hand with shaky fingers. "Light makeup and play the innocent thing up."
That won’t be too hard since there’s no playing.
"Thank you. I really need this." I swallow hard as I clutch the paper to my chest.
"Word of advice. Never let anyone know how desperate you are." I nod. "The na Estella fits you. I like it."
I realize she thinks it’s a fake na, and I feel so dumb. I guess I should’ve given her one, but it’s too late now.
"Is there anything else you need from ?" This is all happening fast. Shouldn’t there be paperwork or sothing I need to give them? She didn’t ask for my ID or anything. I know all this is legal in Vegas, but for so reason this doesn’t feel above board. I guess what I need money for isn’t exactly legal either. My brother is in deep with a loan shark and is running out of ti.
"Don’t fuck this up. You only have to dance for one person, so it’s a good way to test the waters." I look down at the paper and my eyes almost pop out of my head when I see how much I’ll be getting paid.
"I don’t sleep with him, right?" I blurt out, because why else would I be getting paid so much?
"Not this one."
"I can only dance. I don’t think I can do other things." There’s no way I could sleep with a stranger. I have to draw a line sowhere, and I’m already way out of my elent.
"That’s what everyone says until more money starts rolling in." I shake my head. "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. We’ll see if you still have a job co tomorrow. Then we’ll worry about the other details."
"Thank you," I say again, tucking the paper into my purse.
"There is more where that ca from," she calls after as I walk out of her office.
I make it outside the building before I’m pulling the paper back out to read over everything she’d written down. Two thousand dollars for a private lap dance.
"Elle," my stepbrother calls, and I turn around. He’s in a different car than the one he dropped off in. "You good?"
Am I good? No. He got into this ss, and I’m nowhere close to good.
"Whose car is this?" I ask, walking over to it.
"Get in," he orders without answering my question.
"Is it stolen?"
"Get in the fucking car. Jesus." I do as he says, not wanting to have a fight with him in the street. "You get the job or not?" He cuts right to the chase as his hands clench the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white.
"Yes."
"I knew you would." He pulls out of the parking lot and looks pissed, but this was his idea to begin with. He needed quick cash, and this would get us that. "When do you start? The sooner the better." How do I always let him get into these sses?
Probably because I owe him. If it wasn’t for Jero, I would have been on the streets or in the system a long ti ago.
"Tonight."
He glances over at and tugs the end of my long, braided ponytail. "We have so work to do then. I promise this won’t happen again."
It’s his ss, but I’m the one stuck cleaning it up. Maybe it’s mine too because he makes feel that way when he brings it to our front door. He said he had to get the loans because he was on a hot streak at the casino, but of course he lost it all. Bills needed to be paid to keep a roof over our head, and my current job is a drop in the bucket.
"I’ll walk a straight line after this, Elle, I swear. We just need to get the five grand and I’m done."
I’m not sure if he’s trying to reassure or himself, but for once I actually don’t believe him.
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