Bare

Chapter Three- Selfish

It had been at least twelve hours since Gwen had been held captive by Deacon and a part of her had grown to miss it. Although the fact he was wealthy resonated with each and every belonging he owned, she had only missed the banter that was between them. Although she had broken the law, taken one of the more s****l deviant jobs, and worked for drugs, the thrill he gave by seeming dangerous yet a hero to her had outweighed the excitement of any of the aforementioned acts. She found herself drawn to the thoughts of being able to see him again and what it would take to have him end her suffering by making good on the words he threatened against her. However, at this particular moment, she was due on stage yet again upon hearing her music begin to queue up. Standing in lingerie that would be better for the eyes of her husband that a crowd of lustful strangers, Gwen prepared to own the stage as she had done each and every night. The first notes of 'private show' by Little Mix began to pump through the crowd as she stood with a proud confidence that flowed throughout her entire body. Her usual sheepish nature shed along with her modest clothing as she treated the stage as a catwalk and she was the star of the show. Her body moved towards the pole, grinding immediately against it before she then began to tease becoming nude by pulling at the clasp of her bra but stopping just before it would be freed. Instead, she would then return to her dancing steps, seducing those in the crowd before her gaze came upon Deacon. 

She froze, but only for a moment, as her attention fixated on him as he seemed to watch with a concern aside from an aroused curiosity. Feeling as though she wasn't enough for him, she broke from her choreography and studied the area near him, deciding to give him a preview of the sinful words he had hinted as her future. Her butt pushed up against him, feeling the outline of his member against the fabric of his suit pants. It was clear he desired her by the quick hardness of his manhood, but as she went to touch him, he stopped her. Seemingly angry, he pushed the chair he had sat in far away from himself and marched from the V.I.P. section as she then finished her set. 

Her feet were throbbing from the tall heels forced around her ankles that she had now stood in for the last two hours. She had been given enough bills to pay for a helicopter ride throughout the city, but all she wanted was to sleep. Having come down from the drugs she had taken before the show, she began to find a sense of somber irritability that came before the crash of drugs. But without a consistent home, Gwen made the club her momentary residence, having taken advantage of it being cleared out to use as her own. 

A set of showers used for dancers who specialize with glitter and paint, she slid her way inside of the tile, seeing remnants of glitter and multicolored paint near the drain and upon the handle. Sliding it to the right, the semi-frigid water startled her as she then closed the door and the steam from the shower began to fill the air around her. She basked in its heat, daydreaming about how Deacon would slide the door open and make good on his threats. The method of orgasm would alter from against the shower wall to the door with her breasts put up hard against the glass, or him upon his knees, bringing her to climax with his lips pressed upon the folds of her s*x. She bit her bottom lip as her inappropriate imagination began to bring her to a string point of arousal. So much so, that she was unable to stand the moment without release. Using the water that already dampened her fingers with the arousal already present between her thighs, Gwen gently parted herself before she had begun to rub. Knowing exactly the speed and location of what could give her pleasure, she focused on the slow torment that sent volts of satisfaction throughout her entire body. Her mouth came open just enough to reveal what she had been doing as her grip then altered with her fingers filling inside of her. Her fingers navigated within her cavity, pleasuring and orchestrating the perfect motions while she could feel her ecstasy building and building. Although it was different than having a male partner of even an insinuation of such, she knew she could being herself to orgasm due to past experiences. Knowing she was alone, she allowed soft moans and desperate gasps of breath to leave her mouth. Her voice echoed throughout the locker room setting before she allowed herself the perfect amount of satisfaction to mix her excess with the water that slid down her thighs. She then continued to cleanse-wiping the evidence from her fingers, before exiting the shower. 

Her heart stopped as she heard a chuckle release behind her. It was Deacon. Of all the circumstances she had wished to see him again, pleasuring herself in the bathroom was not what she had in mind. The thought made her sick to her stomach as she tried to pass it off as a misunderstanding before sliding a towel around her body. Her dark red hair almost appearing black from being damp had caused for Deacon to gain a physical insight to the woman he enjoyed torturing with his words and actions. She was desperate for him to speak his sexy accent that would bring chills throughout her body upon hearing it, but also wanting to blink and have him disappear. 

"Would you like some help there, love?" He spoke with his trademark arrogance that had made her angry upon hearing. She knew he would be this way, and yet expected something different. Nevertheless, her gaze froze upon his as his steely gaze was enough to make her feel hypnotized as he closed the distance between them. She could have sworn in this moment that he was going to kiss her and break the s****l tension that had been building since they first met. His toes had touched the edges of hers and he towered over her with a height that made her feel horribly intimidated, and yet, she was able to act as though his presence didn't affect her. 

"I can manage…" she responded, turning away from her in the hope that her blushing cheeks and nervous eyes would not be observed by him-unaware that it had been too late. She motioned to a locker designated as her own, complete with her initials upon the front and a combination lock keeping her items safely inside. 

"Were you thinking about me?" He asked, her eyes darting to him. The nerve he had was both an attractive yet annoying gesture he seemed to wear quite well. She was unsure how to respond as she knew she could torture him enough if she were to beat around the proverbial, and in this case, physical bush. 

"I never do." She finally responded as he let out a hurt sound in a taunting tone before leaning against the lockers beside her. As she pulled out a set of clothes for for daily use instead of chosen for the lustful men in the club, she found Deacon to be watching her. 

"Do you mind?" She asked, noticing how he had been anything but a gentleman as she fidgeted with the fold of the towel that kept it around her and remained covering her. 

"You strip every night for strangers...and you are bashful in front of me?" He asked as she was dumbfounded at a response. He was right, she didn't really have any moral ground to stand on. So as a response, she stole a page from his book and decided to be cheeky. 

"They pay 100 at the door and tips for when I decide to entertain them with less clothing on…" she spoke, teasing him before he had removed his wallet from his back pocket. Not as though it was a mystery before, his wallet was stuffed to the brim with solid black credit cards and enough cash to end world hunger if focused upon that action. He fingered the bills until coming to a crisp one hundred dollars and set it in her towel. 

"There...now I am among the lower class…" he took a seat upon the small bench sat in the center of the room. Lockers hugged the area around them with a small corridor on either side; one leading to the exit, and one leading to the showers. Gwen felt challenged by his words, and due to this, set the money upon the bench beside him before turning to where the towel covered her. Beginning to unfold it before her, she kept her back turned and simply used the towel to remain to cover herself, showing as high up as her thigh and as low as the top crescent of her n****e before receding. It was clear he was irritated with being teased, but seemingly thrilled to the same extent. 

Suddenly, he pulled her by her wrist until the towel dropped and her nude body was pressed against his side. Her leg shot up to cover herself as the rest of her torso was pushed in to him with enough closed proximity to keep her from being exposed. 

"You are quite the vixen…" his tone seemed to drop to a more personally sensual level as his eyes focused upon her lips. She knew by the lingering of his gaze on her mouth that he was desperate to kiss her, and yet, he remained apart from her. "And you deserve a life better than this one…" hos words surprised her as he seemed to flip a switch from lust to admiration. "You could have any gent in this club, in this city-hell, on this planet...and you show yourself to everyone who pays the right price…"

She paused, feeling a weight from his words begin to crush her heart. That was until she thought of a comment fair enough to speak in rebuttal.

"You are one of those people…you are just like the rest of them."

His mouth curved to a grin as she suddenly felt uneasy. It wasn't as if it had been a feeling of danger, but definitely one of uncertain mischief. 

"You are a horrible liar, Gwendolyn." As she went to stop him from speaking to her so formally, he continued to speak and cut her off. "I know my effect on you, just as much as I know you have thought of me more than you should. I would even bet that I was the one your lusty little fingers insinuated as you pleasured yourself just moments ago-" as she went to stop his ego from growing any more, she found herself forced towards his face. It was almost as if he would place a kiss upon her mouth-but instead, he kept her close enough to see if she could resist throwing herself at him. Their noses seemed to rest upon each other as their gazes waited for the other person to make the next move. "What would it take to make you dance for only me?" He spoke, making her pull herself back momentarily, locking her eyes within his gaze. 

"You couldn't afford me." She spoke, confident in her price until finding him to force her over his lap, straddling him. Now, her bare cheeks and her naked breasts were exposed to him, but his eyes focused upon hers. 

"Blood? A dowry? A house in the Hamptons? You name it...you'll have it."

"Why? You can have anyone in here...why have you focused on me?"

"Because my blood boils at the thought of someone else touching you...making you squirm as you writhe against your hand in thinking of them. I will pay you anything...just be mine and mine alone."

"And what would I get out of it? You?" She scoffed. 

"Anything you have ever wanted." His words forced her to ponder for a moment as she remained upon him. "Think of what you want the most and what you can't seem to attain. I can give you a blank check and you write the amount it would take to have you entertain only me."

"And you would be expecting s*x?" His brow shot up. 

"No. I want you to stop dancing at this club. I want to be the only one to touch your body as you grind to whatever song brings out your inner vixen. I don't want anybody else being able to touch you...to get off in your smell...let alone your touch." She leaned into him, preparing to set her lips against his, before pulling back at the last second. 

"I'll think about it." She spoke before withdrawing herself from him and moving to the direction of the towel, picking it up, and leaving him to his thoughts.