Billionaire's Stripper novel Chapter 5

Sitting across the street from her apartment, I watched her unlock the door, then disappear inside.

"It's been a long day. Home, please."

"Yes, sir."

I awoke just before the U.S. stock market opened. After talking to a few clients that morning, I returned to bed, sleeping until three in the afternoon.

Sitting in my art studio, I worked on my latest creation, Lydia. I painted for three hours. I ate dinner alone while studying stock trends.

Bryce called me every day. I'd been avoiding his calls.

His latest text read:

You're fucking crazy, bro!

Bryce realized I was into Lydia. I didn't want him to try to talk me out of seeing her.

I stood in the mirror, giving myself the once over. My black hair was slicked back, the custom navy suit fit perfectly. I placed two Cuban cigars in my inside pocket, then removed twenty thousand from the safe. I slipped the rose-colored sunglasses over my eyes before leaving the house.

HAYDEN

I sat at my usual table as strippers flocked to me. Puffing on a cigar, I threw money into the air. I let the women dance for me, but I didn't allow them to sit on my lap.

Lydia walked up the stairs, glanced at me, then stepped in the opposite direction. I wouldn't chase her tonight. I sat back and watched her like I did every night.

The following night, I sat in the corner working from my phone. Dressed in a t-shirt, jeans, baseball cap, and loafers, I tried keeping to myself. A couple of strippers danced for me. Again, I wouldn't let them sit on my lap. I worked on my speech for tomorrow's board meeting.

"Cherry and Brianna, I'll take over from here."

I glanced up at Lydia, then returned my attention to my work. She grabbed my cell, then my hand. "Come with me."

She led me into one of the private rooms. "Have a seat."

Lydia placed my cell back in my hand. "I'll order you a glass of vodka on the rocks."

"No, thank you. I'm driving tonight. Club soda will be fine."

Lydia smiled.

I admit I was perplexed. I didn't understand what was going on.

She returned to the room, placing the drink on the table next to me.

Lydia leaned over me. "What do you want from me?"

Staring deep into her eyes. "I told you a date."

"Fine, but the date will be tonight when I get off work. After the date, you'll promise not to come in here again."

"I'm not agreeing to those terms. And where are we going at three in the morning?"

"The Waffle House silly, of course."

I glanced back down at my cell. "Ok."

"You got here later than usual tonight."

"What can I say? My sleep pattern is a little fucked up."

She laughed.

"You've tricked off enough money this week. You don't have to pay to sit in here."

"Thanks."

I get off early because I have an eight o'clock class. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

"Ok."

My eyes narrowed. "What's the problem?"

Her pretty eyes darted back to mine. "You want to date me, a stripper. What the fuck for? You can date any woman you want."

"Why did you agree to go out with me?"

"I told you why. You wouldn't leave me alone, Hayden. Rich boys think they can have whatever they want."

Her leg fidgeted as she rubbed her ear.

I drove into a spot in the Waffle House parking lot.

Removing my baseball cap, I tossed it in the back seat, running my fingers through my hair. Leaning over, I pulled her close. I could see the fear in her eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you. I'm asking you to let me in a little bit."

My lips grazed hers, then our heads moved from side to side as I deepened our kiss. She moaned. Her moan was felt deep within. This woman had me good. I didn't give a fuck about dating any other woman, just her. Really, not sure why she wouldn't give me a chance. I didn't want to hear the bullshit about the money.

She was trying to fight us. Her fingers dug into my chest.

"Lydia, will you please be open minded?"

"God, you smell good."

I chuckled. "Lydia, seriously. Will you?"

She pressed her lips against mine. "Yes, now come on. I'm hungry."

~

We strolled into the well-lit Waffle House. There was a hand full of tables filled. Lydia and I sat at a table in the middle of the restaurant.

This was a newer Waffle House. The red tile floors hadn't suffered brutal foot traffic yet. The cook moved around the small grill area effortlessly. A few late-night stragglers sat at the long wooden counter eating their meals. You instantly got that cozy diner feel.