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Chapter One: The Seduction
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The sensuous spurns of music filled the air at her entrance. They told a story of desire just as fast as they filled the room with lustful promises. Her appearance brought out the most raucous behavior; the leering grins of many men who stripped her naked in their minds, the gleam of arousal in the eyes of the rest.
She stepped into the candlelight, her cream and ivory ensemble molding to her luscious figure and exaggerating her transparency. The sheer silk fabric accentuated her long toned legs, their length and beauty amplified by the candlelight that came alive at her arrival. Her strong, narrow stomach, and her flexible body proved many days of hard work and commitment. Glossy black hair fell in silken strands to the small of her back. Piercing gold eyes halted the heartbeat of many a man and more then one fight had already begun to ensue over her heaven formed lips. The kind of lips made for sex. Soft, full, and filled with the earthy undertone of primal need. The undertone that could bring men to their knees begging for just a taste of the sin so sweet.
Her hands wove languidly over her head in lithe movements to the heady base beats playing inside of Club ESSENCE. A small smile played on her lips, her body stepping gracefully to the pole on the stage, her leg hooking itself around the metal. Falling back at the waist, she let her eyes close as her hips gyrated in a secret known only during the music's dreamy melody. Whispers of "gypsy" and "enchantment" filled the air not long after her grand entrance. Her eyes remained closed and her mind focused as she fell into the magic that had saved her life. As it did every day of the week...
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Anthony Denunzio swept his hair back in frustration.
"The case isn't done?" he asked impatiently.
His colleague shook his head, lips thin. "Sorry, Tony. Boss recalled it for technical errors."
Tony banged the desk. "The guy was scum! He deserved to go out and Jack knew it!" 
Tony's partner just shook his head again and smiled ruefully at his friend's livid face. Anthony was infamous for his Italian rogue charm. His temper was constantly emerging throughout every event in his life that he didn't believe to be fully justified.
Anthony had gotten the notorious Denunzio looks: the chiseled, angular features with a square jaw and high cheekbones. Dark hair, close to being black, was kept in a uniform taper cut, while deep blue eyes with long, thick lashes were constantly darkened in anger. Wide, full lips and an aristocratic nose completed the heady profile.
Tony was accustomed to being hit on and being the guy that most girls fell for. He was an ill-famed rake and vowed he would never marry, with a confidence he truly emitted. Yet, as much as he was deemed a flirt, Anthony Denunzio was known to have a passion for justice. He nearly always aggravated those around him, most importantly the boss, whenever he argued for another way. He almost always won too. It was this long-suffering fact that kept Denunzio at the top. He would never back down from an argument that demanded to be righted. That was just the way it was.
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Later on that night, Anthony drove home, still in a rage at the final decision. He came up to his long driveway that wrapped around the long yard, and drove up, reaching his two story mansion. A bit outside the city, surrounded by a darkening forest, a freezing riverbank, and a stunning view of the mountains, Tony's house was beyond magnificent. It had large window arches that were wrapped with dark mahogany wood, with a large upper deck patio. The fir trees that surrounded the area lent a sense of privacy and coziness. The windows overlooked a serene garden, full of blooming, brightly colored plants. Dragon gargoyles were perched around the top of the roof, and the right side of the roof sloped up into a turret.
Tony slammed the door and stalked into his house, not in the usual good mood from entering his haven. The place always had the reminiscent scents of black plum and sandalwood. Much of his furniture was pine, done with dark brown and lush red colors. His kitchen was large, with self-dimming overhead lights, and dark marble on the countertops. His refrigerator was almost always stocked with Cabernet Sauvignon, French Bordeaux, and the goods for making any kind of Italian cuisine.
His room was done in a deep ruby red, the windows covered by expensive, black curtains that heavily covered both sides. His bed was sheer black silk, the finest of material, with a soft down comforter. He had a deep black rug that sat at the foot, with Moroccan pillows covering its surface. Denunzio may have had quite a few things going against him, but money was not one of them. He lived expensively and liked it that way. 
He rushed through and ravaged his closet, muttering a few choice words as he did so. The idiocy of his boss! Tony knew the decision had been made more out of spite then anything else. A few weeks earlier, he had completely outdone Jack's son on an enormous therapy project, and though Jack had not been invited to observe the proceedings, he had found out that Tony had done exceedingly better, which had apparently inspired quite the bout of jealousy.
Grumbling, Anthony threw on a black button down and his expensive pair of dark blue jeans. He was on his way to his buddy Talen's surprise bachelor party. He and a group of friends had pitched in to rent out the new Club ESSENCE, strippers and all. He had received a reference for it a few weeks ago, and when he went to check it out, had found it to be quite extensive and quite to his taste. He wasn't terribly fond of a few of the guys that were expected to show, however, the distraction of strippers for the night was perfectly welcome. It wasn't his first time and he had quite the talent of getting the sexiest ones. Must be the Denunzio gene, he mused, with a half smile finally playing on his lips. One final look in his mirror and a grimace, he grabbed his coat and strode out the door, prepared to lose himself in a night of good, contaminating fun.
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Esmerelda stalked backstage, the very embodiment of exhaustion. Here, her girls saw what the men out there never would. Deep, black circles were permanently etched under her eyes, her limbs gaunt and trembling from overexertion, and a gaze fixated on a life far from reality. Brandi pressed her lips together in sympathy, shaking her head in amazement at her state, and Esme offered a small smile of thanks in return. The gesture was comforting, but most of the girls were still astounded at the amount of pain her body could tolerate. But it couldn't be helped. She needed the money. She knew that Brandi was a single mother, paying rent on a small apartment. Jazz was working to finish getting her associates degree. Many of the girls were easy for Esme to figure out, who noted their intelligence and watched them become forced to forfeit their lives based on circumstances. Their lives were nothing to covet and they knew it.
Esmerelda sighed, refreshed her makeup, checking her burning gold eyes in the mirror, and changed to a more prized outfit she had been saving. It was tight black leather, a dress with a few ruffles of lace in between. Strapless, and short. Long elegant black gloves and black heels completed the ensemble. One more shift and she was done for the night, she reminded herself, and flipped her long black hair.
"Good luck," Brandi offered. Jazz sent Esme a supportive smile.
Esme nodded and stepped out, ready to face the crowd now. She was a silhouette against the dark backing stage wall. Her shadow moved with confidence as the beat thrummed the stage floor. Then, one dim candle came to life, making shadows dance and play across her body. She vaguely noticed the number in the club had dwindled, which most likely meant a private party. A little relief assuaged her; it meant less pressure on her. As she began her hypnotic dance, she twirled several times, on tip-toe, her arms outstretched to the glowing ceiling. Her long, ebony hair spun and flickered in the light.
She grasped the pole; her hands steadied on the gleaming brass and she started climbing to the top, her back arched. Pausing, she swung her legs around the pole, criss-crossing them, removed her hands, and slid down sensually to its middle, back remaining arched, arms still moving to the music's rhythym. Reaching the bottom, she uncrossed and stood, then spun around. Now her back was to the pole, her arms crossed above her head and around it. She began snaking down, her ass almost arching into the pole as her legs bent at the knee. Keeping tension on the pole, she dropped one leg behind her, and fell into drop leg splits. She opened them wider, remaining in that position, and leaned back to enhance her stomach and breasts.
She was now beginning to vibe with the music, and power began to energize her limbs. Gracefully standing, with naught more then an ab flex, she walked around the pole once. Turning to face it, her hands reached to her breasts and seductively, she began to inch the black material down, exposing the lacy hot pink bra. The material dropped to the floor, completely exposing her very nicely shaped 36B breasts. A few whistles ran out, but most were quietly mesmerized in their seats. She began her floor routine, when a flash of silver caught her eye. Earlier in her dance, she had caught on quickly to the fact that it was a bachelor's party, judging from the size and behavior of the crowd.
But, her attention was instantly drawn from the husband-to-be, to one of the men sitting near him. He was devastatingly handsome. Any self respecting woman may have fallen into a swoon. Everything, from the electric blue eyes, to the tan, obviously hard as rock forearms, down to the crooked half-smile. Esmerelda's knees went weak and it took everything in her to remain upright. His searing gaze met hers and she found herself helplessly enthralled, instantly losing every ounce of her self control in their depths. She swallowed hard, and found herself almost missing a few steps in the routine she could do in her sleep. Wow. She glanced back, and saw that he had noticed her missteps, judging from the bemused expression that lit his eyes. Her temper slightly sparked at his smirk. Oh, what, he knew what he did to women? Fine. That's just fine. She'd see just how much control he had.
Keeping pace with the music, she confidently sauntered down the stage steps, straight towards him. His eyebrow raised. This was unusual for a dancer of stature at ESSENCE. She merely continued, her amber gaze locked on his. She was in control, she kept repeating in her head. Upon reaching him, she let her legs straddle either side of his chair. For a few counts, she did her usual lapdance routine, gently brushing down on him, as she let him get a good look at her. He was interested, and the instant darkening of his eyes proved a slight catch in his countenance, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to wipe the condescension from his gaze.
So, retreating from that approach, she strode around his chair and shoved it forward. He almost toppled forward and the sudden glare he sent her way made her falter a moment, but it was still a small victory. She had breached his defenses. So, she merely grinned and walked back around the chair. Without thinking, she tugged at his shirt lapels, pulling him out of the chair. His confusion was warranted, she hardly even knew what she was doing at the moment. All she could contemplate at the moment was that she wanted this man's rock hard body against hers. She walked him onto the stage, barely aware of the uproar his friends were making. She drew him behind her and began using his hard, muscled body to finish her routine.
As his punishment for finding her amusing, he would become her pole. Insignificant pole. Yet, she couldn't help feeling the heat and hardness of his body behind her. Her senses were on fire, feeling his probing gaze. Disliking the unnerving sensations, she turned her head towards him in an effort to scold. His eyes spoke volumes, as he attempted to read her reasoning. But his confusion disappeared almost immediately when her ass pressed hard into his growing erection, her gloves stroking down his hard thighs, her gaze trapping his. She slid down his body, then came up quickly, her arms now stroking his shoulders and chest, as she pushed her body into his. She heard a slightly stifled moan emit from his lips, and when she looked at him, wordless approval rang through his eyes. She danced up and down, her body springing to an awareness she had never reached before. Every nerve was tingling, and an ache was slowly building, deep down inside her body. Then she felt his hands start to move on her, slowly coming to stroke around her stomach, his head lowering. She could feel his whispered breath on her neck, and her own breathing wavered. He pulled her up into him, fingers digging into her waist with need, continuing their dangerous dance. His hands trailed up, and both fingers quickly reached up and grazed her now hard nipples on the way to her neck. Her eyes shut tight at the feeling and she let out a small shuddering sigh before coming back to earth. Oh god. What was she doing? What was she thinking? She could get fired for this kind of behavior. But she felt so out of character. Snapping out of her thoughts, she knew her dancing had been sexy as hell tonight, but recognized the dangerous combination of arousal and jealousy from this man's party. She needed to let him go.
Reluctantly, she turned around to him to whisper a goodbye and send him back, but he surprised her by pulling her small body tight up against his with a hand on her waist. The sensation of her nipples pushing into his chest was very heady and overwhelming.
His heated breath caused shivers to run down her back as he whispered urgently in her ear, "I'm paying for you tonight, for the rest of the night. I'm not letting you go just yet. Be ready to leave in half an hour. Money is no concern."
He released her and hurried down the stage steps, despite her weakly uttered protest. She felt weak, delirious, and slightly vulnerable. Barely able to finish her routine, she just about ran backstage, met by her intrigued friends.
She had nothing to say except, "Don't wait up for me. I have a customer for the night."
She gathered her stuff and slipped out the back, uncertain about what was about to happen.
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Anthony reached Talen's chair, slightly breathlessly, and was instantly greeted with a barrage of good-natured barbs, courtesy of his supposed best friends, most of them far past intoxicated.
"Awwwh, come on man, it's my freakin bachelor party and here you go, already taking the most beautiful girl out of the place," Talen whined, his arm draping over Anthony's shoulder, his alcohol reeking breath far too close.
Anthony felt himself smile, and replied. "Talen, buddy, I love ya, but you're getting married. You don't need a sweet little piece of temptation like this. Plus, I'll make it up to you with your wedding gift." He pushed Talen back into the chair and placed a new beer in his friend's hand.
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