Filthy Offer

Filthy offer Copyright © 2023 by Kate J. Blake All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locations is entirely coincidental. ABOUT THE BOOK Pretty woman meets 365 Days What would you do if you unexpectedly had a fifty-thousand dollar debt to pay back? I went to dance in a gentlemen's club. What I did not expect was to meet him there. Moreover, to receive the filthiest offers of all: to spend one month with him and have my debt completely paid. Conditions? No commitment, no affection, just one month of hot, mind-blowing and unforgettable s...experience. Carrington Deveraux is sexy, rich and powerful. Why does he need me? That's the secret I have yet to work out. But what if 'no affection' doesn’t work for me anymore? Is there any chance that Carrington might feel the same? * Dirty-talking Billionaire * Extremely Spicy * Over-the-top Sweet * One month to fall in love * Insta-everything FILTHY OFFER is a spicy romance novella with dual point of view, no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a beautiful Happily Ever After GUARANTEED! CONTENTS Chapter One Ava Chapter Two Carrington Chapter Three Ava Chapter Four Carrington Chapter Five Ava Chapter Six Carrington Chapter Seven Ava Chapter Eight Carrington Chapter Nine Carrington Chapter Ten Ava Chapter Eleven Carrington Chapter Twelve Ava Epilogue EXCERPT: THAT SEXY BARTENDER Chapter One Chelsie Chapter Two Bryan Chapter Three Chelsie About the Author CHAPTER ONE AVA "Ladies and gentlemen," I hear Cassey announces into the microphone, and I recheck myself in the mirror before heading to the stage, "let me introduce you to the sexiest woman in our club: Babydoll!" The lights of the lamps blind me as I walk to the stage, but I can tell he is here, even with them. I don't have to see him know this: I sense his presence. I take a deep breath and step forward, feeling my heart beating faster. I start to dance, shaking my ass, wiggling my hips, and spinning around the pole. Being a go-go dancer looks easy, but it's tough; I have to concentrate on every movement, breath, and sensation. And that's even given the fact that I'm a former gymnast. My gymnastics teacher was a monster, pushing us to our physical and mental limits. But it taught me that I could do anything if I put in the work. I could say that I'm grateful for that now, but that would be a lie. Because deep down inside, I wish I’d had a better or a more normal childhood. I work in a burlesque show, not a strip club. We don't just have to dance. We must perform and create a show men will want to return to see again and again. It's a gentlemen's club, as they call it, where men come to negotiate and sign deals. It's very private, very exclusive. You can't just buy a ticket. They don't even have a sign; they call it 'The A-club.' You have to have a membership that costs seventy-five thousand dollars a year. Even if you have money, you can't just buy that membership; you have to be recommended by someone else. I finally adjust to the lighting and face the audience. I was right: He's here. Our eyes meet, and a wave of excitement washes over me. Sometimes I ask myself: Am I enjoying this too much because of him? I used to be ashamed of what I did, but now I find myself waiting for those few minutes I'm dancing when he's watching me. And I would be highly disappointed if he didn't come. I started working at the club because I needed money. Most women who work here rarely come to dance and strip in front of wealthy, powerful men just because they like it; it's always about money. But my situation is slightly different: My life depends on whether I return that fifty grand to the collectors. And I didn't even ask for the loan. My brother got involved with the wrong people, ran away, and now I'm left with nothing but his loans. I knew I couldn't come up with that kind of money in a regular nine-to-five job; I needed to figure out something else. And if I don't pay them back soon, I'm sure they'll come after me. When I first came here, I thought it would be different, much more unpleasant. I thought I'd have to let men touch me and dance for them in private rooms where they'd get handsy. In reality, everything turned out better than I expected. You can refuse to dance in the private rooms if you don't want to. You won't receive an extra five hundred dollars, but that's your choice. There are also plenty of hotel-like rooms for other things, but again, it is up to the woman. The first time I made it to the private room for dancing was my first day working here. Right after I saw him. I was dancing, and when our eyes met, I knew my life would never be the same. He is different. Young, for instance, and very handsome. Men who usually come here are middle-aged married men who are bored and want to try something different. I am still determining who he is and what he does in life. If a client does not initiate a conversation with you first, you cannot talk to him. And you should never, under any circumstances, ask them any personal questions. Even though I've seen many famous politicians and financiers come here regularly, what happens in the