The Billionaire's Stripper Dirty Secret

Sabrina POV

I didn't want to cry on the cafe counter, but the eviction notice sat heavy in my Apron's pocket. Two days that's all the time I had left before my landlord threw me into the street like yesterday's trash. There was Smith's voice in my head, reminding me of tonight, the stiletto heels I borrowed from Ana waiting in my locker, the mask that hid my shame under purple lights.

Ana plopped onto the stool across from and grabbed the washcloth from my hand. "Alright, spill. What's up?"

"Nothing" I forced a smile and snatched the wash cloth back.

"You've been sighing like the whole world is ending. Did something happen? Tell me!" Her loud voice turned heads in the cafe.

"Keep it down." I quickly covered her mouth with my damp hands.

"Do you want Sam to scold us?"

Sam is the owner of the cafe and no small mistakes ever escaped him.

She rolled her eyes and yanked my hands off her. "Yuck!"

"That's what you get for scaring customers." I teased and resumed wiping the counter.

"You don't tell me anything anymore." Her voice, barely a whisper. The pain in her voice made me halt my chores.

I sighed, feeling torn. I wanted to tell her everything but If she knew the truth that I was two days away from being homeless, she would inconvenience herself for my sake. I couldn't let that happen.

Ana leaned closer, conspiratorial. "Fine, don't talk. But guess what?"

I arched my brow. "What?"

She smirked, "Table eight is here."

I froze, eyes wide as I breathe through an electric jolt down my spine.

Table eight.

Adrian.

I hated how my stomach flipped, hated how my eyes searched for him before I gave myself permission to look.

He sat exactly at his usual seat, corner booth, phone in hand. Clad in a charcoal suit jacket that hugged his broad shoulders like it was tailored by God Himself. A gold watch gleamed on his wrist, that probably cost more than my scholarship and rent combined.

"Chris didn't tell me his brother was coming." Ana mumbled, still smirking.

I tried not to stare, but failed miserably. Adrian never came alone. He was always with Chris, Ana's boyfriend. I'd memorized his schedule like scripture. Always here on the third Saturday of the month. Not the second. Never the second.

"I wonder why he's here." My voice cracked.

Ana elbowed me "He loves your coffee."

My heart skipped a beat, I cleared my throat "That's not true. How can he?"

Ana scoffed. "Please. He once rejected mine and demanded yours."

I shrugged, "That doesn't mean anything. He doesn't even know I exist."

She scoffed, "But he sure knows your coffee?"

She suddenly grabbed my arm, shaking me with excitement. "Get over there and serve him."

"What!"

"You heard me. This is your chance. Opportunity's knocking, babe."

"My chance." I whispered heart thudding. I only needed him to look at me once. Just once. Long enough to remember my face in a room full of strangers.

"You are right." I mumbled, wiped the sweat from my brow and set to work.

"That's my girl!" Ana smiled, making way for me to pass with his usual order.

"Do I look presentable?" I asked Ana, my heart beating against my chest in an irregular rhythm.

Ana rolled her eyes. "Girl, if I looked like you after a three-hour shift, I'd own the world. Now go."

I swallowed hard, palms slick as I balanced the tray. Deep breath.

Don't trip. Don't stutter. Just deliver the damn coffee.

Crossing the cafe to his seat felt like walking into the enemy's territory. I could feel his aura before I reached him, that cold aura that made everyone else fade into the background. That coffee musk scent that makes me want to nuzzle his neck.

I set the tray down with practiced grace.

"One black coffee and bagels," I murmured with my sweet voice, forcing a smile even though my pulse was a drumline.

"I didn't order this," his voice low, raspy and disinterested sent a ripple through my stomach.

My trick worked. I bit my lower lip to hide the stupid grin clawing its way up. "It's on the house."

He nodded without looking up. Not a glance. Not a reply. Just legs crossed, sleeves rolled up, and those long fingers scrolling his phone like I wasn't there.

I bored him.

The thought was like a knife to my chest, sharp and humiliating. I forced my feet to move, returning to a disgruntled Ana.

"I don't even know what you see in him. He's such a snob."

"Ana!" I cautioned quickly looking back to make sure nobody heard, especially him.

"What! Have you forgotten how he threatened me to stay away from Chris."

"Which he later apologized for."

"By offering me 10,000 dollars. It felt more like a threat than an apology."

"Chris wouldn't be happy that you are talking about his brother like this."

She scoffed, "Chris knows how I feel about him. He keeps saying he's always like that. That man is made of steel I swear. He tolerates me for Chris' sake."

"That's not true."

"Whatever, just forget him."

I wish I could. How could I forget a man whose mere presence makes my heart ache. How do I explain wanting someone who doesn't know my name?

The way he wore control like a second skin. Someone so far out of reach he might as well be a satellite?

But he'd never look. Not at me.

I was just a broke college girl in a frumpy uniform, scrubbing counters to survive. And when this shift is over, I'd trade the apron for borrowed stilettos, paint my lips red, and become Angel, the masked dancer men paid for a lap dance.

My phone buzzed in my apron, snapping me back to reality.

Smith. The manager of the club I danced at.

Dread pooled in my gut as I slipped into the storeroom and answered. "Hello."

"What took you so long to pick my call?"

I kept quiet. If there's one thing I've learned from working for Smith is to keep quiet when he's angry.

"A VIP requested you tonight."

I scrunch my face in disgust. "No, I told you I don't sleep with clients. Vip or not."

"Angel," he cooed, like the devil petting his snare.

"He is a very important person and a client that this club cannot afford to miss. Just make an exception tonight, yeah? He wants you to impress his friend."

My grip tightened on the phone. "The answer is still no."

"You've made an exception before, why not now?" He scoffed and I had to bite the inside of my cheek.

"That was different! It was a blow job" My voice cracked.

"And you forced me!"I yelled, thankful that I was in the store room alone.

He laughed, a dark, ugly sound. "Forced? Funny, you didn't complain when your mother's hospital bills were paid."

My heart ached at the reminder.

I had buried my pride and pleasured Smith and his friend to save my Mom. Six months in the ground and I was still paying for the choices I made to keep her alive.

"I knew the clients before," I sighed exasperated. "I don't know this one now and you're not giving me a name even,"

"What is the difference, huh?" He hissed. I suppressed my urge to tremble.

"What difference would a name make? You just go there, grind on him, probably suck his dick, open your legs and get the money!"

I gasped. "Who do you think I am?"

"A whore!" He spat. "Just like every other stripper that works for me here!"

Tears streamed down my eyes at his cruel words.

"You think you are special just because you haven't slept with anyone yet. I own you. I'm done being lenient."

"I'm not doing it," I whispered.

His tone turned to steel. "This isn't a request anymore. It's an order."

The line went dead.

I stared at the blank screen, heart pounding like a war drum.

What have I gotten myself into?

Adrian's Pov

I hated clubs.

Too loud. Too sweaty. Too full of people faking happiness.

But for some reason, Leo, my best friend since diapers, thought the best way to spend Saturday night was to drag into places I had no business being.

"Try not to look dead inside," he didn't say, but heavily implied.

So here I was, pressed between leather seats, overpriced whiskey in hand; surrounded by cologne, clout-chasers, and conversations that made my skin itch.

Every time someone approached, I pulled out my phone and stared at it like it held the cure to my boredom.

Leo slid a drink toward me I didn't ask for. "Welcome to Club 99."

"A strip club, Leo," I shook my head. "Really?"

He laughed and leaned back like a king in his booth. Unlike me, Leo didn't have the weight of a family empire on his shoulders. No board meetings. No headlines to clean up. His older brother was the heir. Leo was free to be reckless.

I wasn't.

Being spotted here was a risk in itself.

"I've been here before," He patted my back with a huge grin. His eyes were gleaming already, probably because of the alcohol he kept downing.

He shrugged, "It's not a sin to loosen up once in a while."

"I'm relaxed when I'm not surrounded by sweat and silicone," I muttered.

It felt strange that my hands weren't flipping through business reports. Instead, my fingers were scrolling through my contacts, my thumb hesitating over Drake, my driver's name. One tap and I'd be out.

He scoffed, "The only reason you are uptight is because you haven't gotten laid in months, Relax."

I scoffed, but the worst part was he wasn't wrong.

I downed the whiskey anyway. Enjoying the burn. Expensive enough to forget the noise for half a second.

"Anyhow," he smirked. "I prepared a surprise for you after the show," he wiggled his eyebrows.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Something tells me I'm not gonna like it,"

"Oh, you will," he smirked, looking smug.

The last time Leo said that, I ended up bribing two cops and paying for a wrecked Benz. So yeah, I was skeptical.

I wonder what kind of trouble his surprise would land me this time.

Before I could press him, the announcer's voice boomed through the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the announcer's voice made me look at the stage.

"Up until now, you were able to enjoy some of our best dancers," a bunch of whistles indicated that the crowd was pleased.

"Now, it's time for the main event of the evening. Please welcome Club 99's star, Angel!"

The room erupted, whistles, cheers, bills already flying. Even Leo couldn't contain his excitement, whistling with the crowd.

I groaned and downed another drink. I didn't expect much, just another pretty girl hustling for tips and validation. The performances so far, hadn't touched me.

"I should have just stayed in my office," I muttered, exasperated.

I almost looked away. Almost.

Purple lights dimmed the stage. The music turned sultry. Then she stepped onto the stage.

Red mask. Red lingerie. Red lips like sin, the embodiment of temptation herself.

Next thing I knew, her legs wrapped the pole, they sliced the air in a perfect split, her head thrown back, hair spilling like waves.

"Holy Sh-"

The words died in my throat.

No one, no one, has ever been worth looking at twice.

Leo whistled. "Told you."

I didn't answer. Couldn't.

Because while the crowd saw hips and curves, I saw her eyes. The sadness behind them. Eyes that didn't belong here.

Something about her broke through the ice in my chest.

"Who is she?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.

"The star of the club. Worth every damn dollar."

The crowd cheered, hands reached for her and several bank notes were thrown at her. She bent and made a whole show to pick them all before disappearing behind the curtains.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "That was-"

"Fantastic," Leo finished, smirking. "How did you like your gift?"

I turned to look at him for the first time since the dance. "What gift?"

He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a golden key that gleamed under the neon lights.. "I booked her. For you,"

I stared at the key like it was a trap. "You what?" I spluttered in disbelief.

"You're welcome."

"Leo, I don't sleep with random girls. You know that." My voice was sharp enough to slice glass.

He snorted, "She wasn't so random when you were drooling over her."

"I wasn't-"

He cut me off, "Just go in there and enjoy your gift."

I glared at him, but my pulse betrayed me. Because the truth was ugly. I don't pay for sex. I don't sleep with hookers.

And yet as I stared at the vacant stage, every cell in my body was screaming want. I wanted her.

"I paid triple the price for her, try not to emotionally destroy her. You are free to, physically." He chuckled unaware of the emotional torture I was going through.

"What room?"

Leo shoved the key into my palm. "Room 90. Second floor. Don't worry about me. Enjoy the spa treatment for your libido!"

I stood slowly, downing the rest of my drink.

"I'm out of my damn mind." I murmured to myself as I walked away from the bass and bodies.

The hallway was quiet and dim compared to the chaos outside. My shoes thudded against the carpet, each step heavier than the last.

I slid the key into the lock. I turned it. Pushed the door open.

Peach. The scent hit me first. Subtle, feminine and alluring.

And then her voice, low and sweet.

"I've been waiting for you,"

Sabrina Pov

"Wait," I said, my voice tight with panic. "I can't do this."

The room Smith showed me felt like a trap disguised in silk sheets.

Smith leaned against the wall with that tired smirk he always wore when I tried to argue.

"You don't have a choice."

"I do. I'm not doing this."

"Well" He drawled, "It's already paid for. You get in the bed and be a good girl."

I clenched my jaw.

I was in a tight corner. Yet, I wasn't ready to give away something I could never get back. Not for debt. Not for safety. Not when it was the only thing I had left to call mine.

"I can't sleep with him," I said, walking towards the door.

Smith looked bored. "Then be ready to pay three grand on top of the money you owe me."

"That's unfair!"

"That's business," he said, bored, inspecting his nails. "Any other girl would kill for the chance to screw Adrian Marks."

"Any other girl would jump at the opportunity to sleep with Adrian Marks," he said with a lazy grin.

My stomach dropped in a mix of horror and disbelief.

I blinked.

"What?"

Smith chuckled. "You live under a rock? "The billionaire. CEO. Stone-cold asshole. One of his friends booked you for him. Lucky you."

My hands went cold.

Adrian Marks.

The man I'd been watching from afar. Beautiful in a way that hurts to look at for too long. The man that never looked at me.

"He doesn't know it's me," I whispered.

"Of course," Smith snorted. "You're just a stripper in a mask. He'll fuck you and be gone before morning."

That was the moment the trembling stopped.

I should have said no.

But I didn't.

Because suddenly, it didn't feel like I was giving something away. It felt like I was taking something for myself.

I sat on the edge of the bed, crossed my legs, trying to look like a woman who knew what she was doing when every nerve in my body screamed run.

All my doubts died the moment he walked into the room.

Adrian Marks. Six feet of raw power in the same charcoal suit as earlier. His presence knocked the air out of me.

"I've been waiting for you," My voice didn't sound like mine, it sounded like someone else's.

His eyes met mine. And my heart hurt.

He looked at me like he was trying to figure out what kind of woman I was.

"Take off the mask," A command, low and smooth as butter. He sounded like a man who didn't take no for an answer.

I slowly took it off, heart thundering so hard I could hear it over the silence.

His gaze skimmed my face, cool and unreadable.

There was no flicker of recognition. And that hurt more than it should have.

"How do you want me?" My voice didn't crack, though my pulse was a riot in my veins.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Voice deep, calm, careful. The kind of voice that could undo a girl.

But I wanted to.

God help me, I wanted to.

I gathered up all the courage in me and walked to him on shaky legs.

"I want you and I know you want me too." I stood on my tiptoe and kissed him first, soft and quick.

"Fuck it." His hand immediately grabbed the back of my neck, fingers sliding into my hair, He crashed his lips into mine like ice meeting fire.

His hand curled around my nape, tilting my head slightly back. Then his lips met mine like ice meeting fire. He kissed me like a man possessed, backing me against the wall. I kissed him back because I needed him.

Buzzing to the surface, souls aflame.

His hands wandered, squeezing every of my curves, my ass like he owned every inch.

I let out a gasp as he lifted me with ease.

"Wrap your legs around me," he growled.

I complied without hesitation. I could feel how hard and thick he was now pressed firmly against my soaked panties.

"Sabrina, this isn't right," I tried to remind myself over and over again. I tried to resist, but my body didn't care. It craved for more of his touch.

He slid my panties aside and pressed a finger inside of me. I gasped, body tensing, back arching from the stretch, nails digging his shoulders.

"Breathe." He whispered in my ear.

But I couldn't. It felt too foreign, too good to be true.

He thrusted his finger slowly coaxing me open, watching my reactions.

"More," I whispered, not understanding the pleasure I was feeling. "Please-" My hips chased the touch, greedy and desperate already.

He growled, obliging to my request.

He fucked me faster and deeper, scissoring, hitting that spot again and again until I was sobbing, trembling and shameless. "oh my God"

"You're doing so good," He whispered, kissing my cheek. "Just a little more, Angel. Let me open you up right."

He carried me on the bed like I weighed nothing, stripping off his shirt and pants in seconds.

I gasped as I stared at his huge glistening cock. There was no way that would fit in me but my greedy body was too blinded by pleasure to stop.

He stroked it a couple of times as he lined up with my pussy lips. "You have such a pretty cunt."

He grabbed the condom on the night stand and quickly put it on.

"You ready?" His voice like gravel.

My eyes locked onto his, breath shaking. "I've been ready since forever."

He chuckled, obviously not understanding the truth behind my words.

I tensed up as he entered me inch by inch. My scream crushed the silence in the room.

"Fucking hell, you feel" he hissed as if he were in pain. "You are impossibly tight."

He gripped my hips, jaw locked.

"Oh fuck...fuck!"

It felt like I was being ripped in half with every bone jarring thrust he gave. It was too good and too painful at the same time, knocking the breath from my lungs.

I clutched at him, nails raking his back. "That was the point, Angel... to make you scream," he growled against my neck, his teeth coming out to nip me.

My body was not under my control anymore, I wrapped my legs around him as he ground our pelvises together hitting my cervix with each thrust.

I let him take whatever he wanted. Happy, even, to give him everything even if it meant I'd be left with nothing in the end.

The bed rocked against the wall with every thrust. I was on the verge of losing my voice.

"Yes," I cried. "Yesyesyes, right there, fuck-"

He groaned low in his throat, grabbing my hips in both hands and grinding into me harder now, setting a rhythm that felt like sin.

"That's it," he rasped. "Take it. All of it."

"You're so deep-"

"You're taking it so well, Angel," he rasped. "So tight around me, fuck! look at you."

My back arched again, body writhing under every brutal, perfect roll of his hips. It was electric. Noises, skin, breath, pain, curses, moans.

"Let go," He said, right against his lips. "I got you. Let go."

I came with a sharp cry, body seizing and my thighs trembled loose around his waist.

He followed with a low, guttural moan, spilling into the condom with a final thrust that left me spineless and ruined. He collapsed next to me.

And in that haze of sex and sleep and truth too heavy to hold, I mumbled against his arm, "You are everything I don't deserve."

I lay next to him and stared at the ceiling, trying not to fall apart. Tears stung my eyes. He didn't know what he'd taken. Didn't know what it cost me to give it. I was selfish and stupid.

I moved fast, quietly. Pulled on my robe with trembling fingers, ignoring the ache between my legs, ignoring the part of me that wanted to stay.

I left in silence. Not because i wanted to. But because if I'd said goodbye, if I'd looked at his sleeping face even once, I wouldn't have been able to leave at all.