On Her Knees: Forbidden Age Gap Story
$2.99
Heat Level
ON FIRE: explicit sexual activity in many or most chapters, graphic physical details, body fluids, all adult words for body parts. Physical intimacy is a big part of the plot.
In the strip club, there’s a lot of things off limits.
In my personal life, there’s one man off limits.
When the two things collide, and I find Mr. Wolfe smiling at me from across the club, I want to run and hide. Instead, his firm, guiding hand leads me upstairs to the VIP lounge. He’s twice my age, best friends to the man of the house, and I can’t stop thinking about him.
I’ve never been with anyone, and if anyone found out about us, it would destroy us both. But what starts as talking leads to teasing, and then to something so much more.
On Her Knees is a sizzling, quick read featuring raunchy, risky rough loving by bestselling erotica author, Candy Quinn.
♡ Excerpt ♡
I never thought I’d be here, on my knees before a man that was totally off limits, bobbing my head up and down his cock, tasting that potent musk of his.
For money, no less.
In this club, I’ve always been the straight girl. I work clean, no drugs, no drinking on the job, and I definitely don’t sell “extras”. But ever since he walked in through the strip club doors, I’ve been falling further and further.
He’s a tall guy, broad in the shoulders, muscular from daily workouts at the gym, and a brute in sheer size. But so damn handsome. With medium length hair, a thick beard, both gone silver, he looked dashing, strong, confident and successful.
What’s most messed up about it though? I know him. I’ve known him a long time, in fact. Because he’s not only my daddy’s best friend, he’s his boss. Mr. Wolfe.
He owns the construction company my daddy works for, and I know just how successful it is. So it comes as no surprise to me to see how much money he has to throw around in a stripclub. But when I first laid eyes on him in here, I was frozen.
Embarrassed!
I had originally tried to dart into the dressing room, but the club was packed that night, and I couldn’t maneuver around the throngs of horny men and half dressed women in time. He must have had a sixth sense for me, because his gaze was laser focused upon me as I stood in shock, my tiny, black bra pushing up my tits. My dad didn’t know I was stripping, and I wanted to keep it that way. So once I saw him looking at me, I knew I couldn’t run and hide, but I couldn’t bring myself to approach him, either.
One of the other girls seemed to notice that I was stunned, and her dainty hand touched against my nipped waist.
“Hey, you alright, Ariel?” she asked, using my stripper name. It was best that way, because it gives us a bit of safety against strangers, but a fake name would do nothing to convince Mr. Wolfe that I wasn’t actually Jessica St. Claire.
“Just someone I know,” I murmured back, and she made a sympathetic face.
“Well, either leave the shift and hope it works out or milk him for cash,” she said with a small smack on my ass. “You gotta choose one, because standing there’s not going to do anything for you.”
But as my head was enwrapped in turmoil, his broad, gruff but handsome face lit up in a warm smile to me. The kind of smile that said I had nothing to worry about, the kind of smile he’d given me countless times before.
It was like a tractor beam towing me towards him.
And before you think me completely trashy, no. We didn’t hook up then and there. Heck, he didn’t even ask me to dance for him that first time.
“Hey there little J–” he stopped himself before spilling my real name, “little lady.” He was courteous and kind, dressed so sharply, better than the usual customers that came in. “How about we hit the VIP room together, huh? I’ll pay for a nice little chat. Nothin’ more,” he said with a broad smile.
I tried to smile back, but my knees were trembling so much that I could barely concentrate on anything else. It took me a few moments to even make sense of his words over the loud thrum of the music.
Still, I nodded, and even though I didn’t know it then, I was sealing my fate.
He was nothing but a gentleman that first night. He offered me his arm, and I put mine through it, and together we went to the VIP lounge. He paid my fee and the club’s, and true to his words he just wanted to talk.
I knelt beside him, chatting away, and it felt like old times in a lot of ways. Like when I was still in school and he’d listen to my problems, like nobody else would.
“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to anyone if you don’t want me to,” he reassured me early on, putting my mind to ease. “It’s a job like any other, but not everyone sees it that way. I get it,” he said with a big, warm smile. “And you are definitely the most beautiful girl in this club.”
It softened me to him. I started to see him in a new light.
“You’re just saying that,” I teased, shifting and taking off my high heel shoes, letting them clatter to the floor. I wasn’t considering him a client, and it was a good chance to take a little break, even as my heart was pounding in my chest. I was half naked next to my dad’s best friend and boss. How could I not be filled with adrenaline? But I thought by taking off my shoes, it’d make it feel more comfortable.
“Hey now,” he said, reaching over, his big, strong hand brushing back my hair affectionately. “I don’t blow hot gas, you should know that about me. All truth, all the time,” he said with a cheeky but warm expression. “You’re stunning in here. I was barely inside for two seconds before you drew my gaze. Out of all the crowd. That’s irrefutable evidence there,” he said with warmth and sincerity. “You’ve grown into such a stunning woman,” he rumbled.
I didn’t usually like sitting and hearing a man’s compliments, but he was paying me for the pleasure and, for some reason, they meant so much more coming from him. They felt so much more real.
“Ya, well, just don’t tell my dad you’ve seen me in a thong, because he will kill you.”
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