Debt Boss: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance

  Contents

  Story

  Chapter One

  Oliver

  Wendy

  Chapter Two

  Oliver

  Chapter Three

  Oliver

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Wendy

  Chapter Six

  Wendy

  Chapter Seven

  Wendy

  Story

  Debt Boss

  By Amber Young

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright Amber Young 2017

  Chapter One

  Wendy

  My tits feel big for once. But this pole is cold as hell.

  This is only the first week that I’ve become a stripper at the tender age of twenty years old. It’s not like my parents will take care of me. If only they existed in my life. But that’s fine. I just hope that I look good doing these basic moves on the pole. For the first time I feel more self conscious than I usually do. I’ve never asked myself if my boobs looked too small or if my butt looked plump enough.

  I look at all the other women here in the club, and I know my skinny little body could never match up to theirs… well it probably could, but it’d take a few years and some extra pounds.

  As I’m swirling around on the pole I observe my surroundings. The music is pumping and the lights are low. Hues of red and blue surround me as I swirl around the pole and try my best to do a flip or two without landing on my head.

  That’s when my eyes land on him.

  The man at the entrance.

  Our eyes just locked and it made me stop dancing. Suddenly I felt even more insecure. If it weren’t for the other women around me to help me boost my confidence and the money flying everywhere, I’d have stopped and ran away like a immature girl with a crush. But me? Immature? I know I still had my v-card, but looking at this man made me want to run. Not in a bad sense, but like a, ‘oh shit, daddy’s here’ kind of sense.

  My god, he starts walking over to me and I begin to dance again. I need this money and I need to not look like an ever loving fool on the pole.

  Come on, think, Wendy. Twirl here, twist there, do a flip.

  “You’re very pretty.”

  That’s it, I land on my ass like a pathetic fool. He looks down at me even though I’m on a raised platform and offers me his hand. No, I’m a big girl, so I get up on my own, struggling in my stiletto heels and cling to the pole as if I’m on some rocking boat and I’ll fly off the platform to the other side of the room. His eyes are burning my body, like I can feel his eyes inspecting my body. It makes me nervous, but his eyes, they look so kind. I can tell he’s much older by the thin lines that frame his smile. It’s sexy. Very sexy.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, that smile still painted on his face, “you took a hard fall.”

  “I-I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” I say, still clinging to the pole, not dancing as I should be.

  One of the hostesses comes by and pulls on his arm. A twinge of jealousy rises up inside me, but it isn’t like I’m trying to entertain the guy. A man like this needs entertaining, not some young girl falling on her ass.

  “Hey, can I get you a drink or a dance,” the hostess asks, clinging to him.

  He looks at her and moves away. This is a bit shocking, but it makes me feel good nonetheless.

  “No, I’m fine. I’ll stay here.” He looks at me and smiles again, “I like this one. Though she seems a lot younger than the rest of the dancers. Where’s your parents?”

  “I wish I knew,” I lie, trying to keep up a sexy facade.

  I begin to swing around on the pole again. Somehow this mans voice melts me into feeling a little bit more secure about myself and the sexyness starts flowing in my veins.

  “Can I have a dance?”

  “I’m dancing already.”

  “A private one,” he says, his voice firm and confident. My skin tingles and I stop dancing again.

  Okay, breathe, Wendy. You can do this. It’s not like he’s whisking you away to a private island. Just a private room down the ‘hall of fame’.

  I step down from the platform and he offers me his hand again. This time I take it and shoot him a smile of my own. My heart starts pounding louder than the music in the club. Every dancer in the club shoots me a look, knowing this is my first private dance. They’ve warned me about doing this. But I think I’m prepared.

  I know my bank is.

  OLIVER

  I originally came to get a drink. The women here don’t impress me. Well, that is until I see her. Short black hair cut into a short layered bob and baby blue eyes that I can see even in this dimly lit club caught me like a deer in flashlights. I’m surprised they have someone here who’s so young. She’s got to be at least twenty.

  It pains me to see someone like her dancing in a seedy club. She looks pure and innocent, but yet she’s on a platform dancinh in skimpy lingerie in stiletto heels that will damager her feet later.

  She keeps glancing over her shoulder at me and I can’t help but feel my dick twitch.

  I know this is her first private dance by the way her fellow dancers stared her down as she led be by hand to a private room. She looks up at the lights that hang over the doors, and I know she is thinking about which color meant what. Not that I’ve ever had a private dance here before, but I know the owner, and the blue light always means available. Rules are, don’t touch unless invited. But I whisk her up by the hips and take her three doors down to an open room.

  She yelps a little but it’s a cute one. And my dick twitches a second time.

  “I’m sorry. I can tell you’re new. Blue means it’s an open room.”

  “Oh! Yeah, I forgot for a second. Is it that obvious that I’m new?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes. Fuck, I can’t do this tonight. I want her already, but someone like her shouldn’t ever be involved in my world. It’s far too dangerous and could get her killed.

  Or sold..

  Anything.

  “Well, you don’t seem old and worn out like the rest of your fellow dancers.”

  She throws her head back and giggles. It’s airy and light. Like her. I drink in her bright presence and walk over to the plushy sofa seat that is put at the right distance away from a shiny chrome pole. The room is dimly lit like the rest of the club, but done up in red velvet. From the walls to the furniture.

  I want to see how she moves. Closely, privately.

  “Well, you just enjoy yourself,” she says as she sashays up to the pole. Her curves are sculpted just right. Nothing too exaggerated, and pale creamy skin with a mole on her right upper shoulder.

  Music starts and I settle down in the chair.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Wendy—I mean, ugh. Victoria—”

  “Why are you here?” I ask, upset that she told me her real name. “It’s dangerous to let your real name out like that. Luckily, I’m a good guy.” Good at heart for her at least. But good? No. I’m as much as a criminal as a fucking felon.

  “Money. Not much you can do without a degree. But let’s keep the mood light,” she scales up a pole then hangs down and her breasts push up towards her face, “don’t wanna bore you with real life drama, right?” Wendy winks at me and twirls herself down and around.

  Oliver

  Wendy’s body moves like silk in water. She captivates me and makes me forget about all the shit going on in my life. How much of a seedy person I am. The exact same person who shouldn’t know her real name. And yet, she makes me also think about a life. An actual life with a girlfriend or maybe a wife and kid.

  What am I doing? That’s all just fantasy f
or me.

  As long as I do what I do, there’s no way I can have any of that. I can barely own a fucking dog. Let alone get and keep a girlfriend. Wendy shouldn’t be here. I know way too many men who are in the same capacity as me that regularly browse these clubs for a quick fuck. She’s young, needs money. One day she’ll slip up. Like how she did with me.

  When I refocus on the curvy body in front of me, swirling around the pole, I notice she begins to tease her clothes. One of her nipples slip and then the whole bra comes off. Fuck, my dick twitches again. I’ll be hard as a fucking diamond by the time she’s done dancing.

  Her nipples are hard and meaty. And her areolas are the way I like them, big like saucers. This is a body that will get her in trouble. The thought of me leaving here and knowing some other man will come her way ticks me off. Isn’t anyone taking care of such a doll?

  My cock is straining and the urge to stroke it beneath it’s denim prison is strong as hell. But I fight back, because I don’t want to scare or creep her out. The pain surging through to my shaft makes me leak a tad. I hiss under my breath just low enough so Wendy doesn’t hear me.

  “I hope you’re enjoying so far,” she says in a slight whisper. The music is a dull roar and I feel my chest burn hot. White hot.

  “I am. More than you know,” I say, feeling stupid from saying the last part.

  Gripping the chair arms, I try to clench my thighs and keep the erection down. The way her ass jiggles as she touches the ground from the pole. I keep looking at the mole on her shoulder, thinking about how I’d bite it.

  Rinng, rinng.

  Fuck, not now. But that’s not a ring tone I can ignore. Hissing under my breath, I take out my phone and flick the green phone. Wendy stops and asks if she should keep dancing. I tell her to continue, that her body’s movements are putting me in a tranquil state of mind.

  Wish that were the same for my cock.

  “What is it?”

  “A collateral order will be fulfilled tonight. We got details of where to pick them up and what time. It will be within an hour. We need you back so you can appraise it and see if we need to take something else.”

  “This will have to wait,” I say, looking at Wendy’s legs grip the pole. A little fumble here and a little fumble there. She looks like she’s having more fun than anything. I’m pleased that she’s feeling comfortable around me.

  “This can’t wait, boss. This has to do with that four billion dollar debt from that White guy.”

  My mind snaps into business mode. That four billion dollar debt of his has been looming over the debt collector’s guild for a while before it was assigned to me. I can’t fool around with that one. “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes.” I hang up and sigh. I really don’t want to leave Wendy here in a place like this. But it’s not like I’m any safer.

  It’s best to leave anyway before I make a mistake and pull her into my dangerous world. Someone like Wendy should be in university, studying to be a nurse or a teacher. Not in here being a stripper for dangerous men like me.

  I get up, hesitation heavy in my chest. “I have to go, Wendy. Thank you very much for entertaining me. You did very well.”

  She looks at me and smiles.

  “Come back soon, okay?” Wendy’s eyes look soft and saddened with my departure. I don’t want to leave. But it’s in her best interest that I do.

  “We’ll see… Here. Next time we meet, I hope you’re on your way to college or university.”

  Her eyes grow wide with the money I give her. It’s a healthy heavy stack of hundreds, and it isn’t like I’m missing anything.

  Wendy

  “Wait, what’s your name?” I ask before he leaves. His presence can fill up a whole room. But I don’t want nameless memories of him.

  He looks at me and gives me that yummy older aged male smile, “Oliver.” And leaves.

  The money in my hands feels fantastic. I’m not that much of a stripper either. Like, I just started this job two weeks ago. But this? If I’m seeing right, this is nothing but hundred dollar bills. I space out until I remember that it was only an hour ago when it was almost time for me to leave. I have a ride to catch and being late isn’t an option.

  I scamper out of the private dance room and look around to see if I can get one more glimpse of Oliver. He’s gone, but I can still smell his cologne. Older men are so… so, distinct. So wise, cool, calm and collected.

  How come young guys weren’t like that? Oh well, I have no time to figure that out. Like it would make a difference if I did.

  As soon as I enter the dressing room I’m swarmed with the other ladies and even the bartender, Rhys.

  “Oh. My. God,” exclaims one of the veteran dancers, “how the fuck did you land Oliver Lothrop?”

  Another dancer butts in, “he even paid the owner so you could keep your profits. Lucky girl. Did you see his cock? Did he do anything dirty?”

  “You stripped didn’t you? Tell us!”

  The constant barrage of questions make me feel like I’m being spun around. Heat spreads across my cheeks and I look down at my purse filled to the brim with money. The months of rent I’m going to pay with this!

  “No, I didn’t see his junk,” I giggle, letting them in on the small action, “he’s actually a gentleman.”

  A stripper with short brown hair probes again. “You totally stripped though, didn’t you?”

  I sigh. “Yes, I did. But that’s what I’m here for.”

  “Ohh, lil Victoria took her panties off,” she sings, poking gentle fun at me. I’m the youngest here, so I guess they all want to coo over me for a while. Until I get old like Dahlia, the head veteran stripper here.

  “Well, see you guys. I got to get home.”

  “Yeah, plan what’cha going to do with all that money. Don’t forget to save, all right, honey?” Rhys, the bartender says, fluttering his eyelashes and turning around to switch his hips out of the dressing room. Got to admit, his ass looks nice in those black leather jeans.

  Not to brag, but all this attention is giving me celebrity syndrome. I giggle it off and wave goodbye to the ladies. Dahlia stalks off with a slight grit on her face.

  ***

  An hour has passed.

  And that’s when Lisetta decides to text me and tell me she can’t make it. If I had known that sooner I would have taken the ride one of my co-workers offered me when the club closed thirty minutes ago.

  Ugh.

  Well, I have my mace. And I know some karate. So I brave the dark streets and forge on. Every little bump in the night makes me look behind me. Not that I’m not already a vigilante person, but for someone who looks like me, the night time isn’t the best time to walk. The world becomes a huge hide and seek playground. But with criminals and perverts instead of kids.

  I use my phone light and light my way back to my apartment. Luckily I am only another five minutes away. But I can’t help but hear Oliver’s voice in the back of my head, scolding me for giving him my real name.

  Huh, funny. I could only imagine of what he’d say if he could see me now. Walking in the dark all by myself on a pitch black street with only the light of my cell phone accompanying me. He’d probably drive me home himself.

  “Oliver Lothrop, that’s a rich sounding name,” I whisper to myself. My apartment is in view and I smile. “Ohh, looks like I’ll arrive safely.”

  I already have a mental note to google him when I get upstairs. With all this money, it’s going to be hard to go to sleep.

  The stairs creak under my weight with each step I take. Considering my weight, I’m surprised they make a sound at all. Tells you how old this place is. I bet the landlord will let the stairs rot and fall in before he replaces him.

  The feeling of my metal key slipping into the lock soothes me as I twist it and open my door.

  Stepping inside I reach to turn on my hallway light. Which is strange because I left it on.

  Hands come from behind me and grab my mouth as an extra pair
go for my arms. My gut drops, someone’s trying to kidnap me!

  I muffle against the hand and bite down on it. If there’s anything my father taught me before going crazy, it was to never go down without a fight. I twist my body and thrash around. The sounds of boots thudding on the thin carpet tells me that there are men and more than two are here. One leg gets free and I kick around.

  The hand falls off my mouth from the savage bite I gave it and I scream desperately for help. Someone ties a cloth around my mouth and around my head.

  I feel a pinch on my arm.

  And the world goes black.

  Chapter Two

  Wendy

  My mind feels fuzzy and dizzy.

  The last few moments that I was awake are blurry to me. What’s going on?

  Bright lights make me squeeze my eyes closed.

  It hits me like a sack of bricks going a hundred miles. Memories flood back and I remember that I was kidnapped., And drugged.

  Where am I? I look around and all I see is a plush tan carpet which I’m laying on, and four white walls. Not even a window. Doesn’t feel like I’ve been assaulted. But my judgment isn’t at it’s best right now. The remnants of whatever they drugged me with is still fluttering in my veins, making it feel like butterflies in my blood.

  I need to escape, but in this state, that’s gonna be nearly impossible. Oliver would be disappointed in me. Hell, I’m disappointed in me. At least I gave a good fight.

  I attempt to move around, gain a little energy to wake me out of this small haze. Cold metal clinks and my hands are stuck behind my back. Great, walled off and handcuffed. The only thing to stare at is a metal door that looks like a nuclear bomb couldn’t break it.

  I bet they even took my money. Could anything get better? What will even happen to me?

  Still gagged too.

  I hear noises outside the door. Anger wells up deep inside me. For a second, I feel like I could almost stand up.