"Mr. Pierce?"
He blinked and snapped his attention back to the present. He stared at Alice, his personal assistant, and arched his eyebrows at her.
"What is it?"
She looked at him like he had grown horns on his head. "Where were you, sir?"
"Right here with you."
She shook her head. "You weren't. I asked you a question four minutes ago and you haven't answered yet."
Four minutes ago? He couldn't believe he had been distracted for that long. What was wrong with him?
"What did you ask me?" He cleared his throat, adjusting his position in the chair.
She gave him a strange look. "What were you thinking of? You've been acting weirdly for the past one week."
He was busy thinking of a particular stripper with black hair and black eyes. He could see her staring at him as if she was standing before him. He imagined her dancing for him alone instead of the other rowdy men and wondered what it would feel like to have her hair tickling his skin as she took his dick in his mouth.
He stifled a groan as his penis went hard and strained against the fly of his pants. He needed to focus and stop thinking of her. Alice already thought that he was being weird, she would know something was wrong with him if he let his imagination run wild and couldn't control his groans.
"Forgive me for getting distracted." He muttered.
"What did you ask me?" He asked, fixing her with a gaze that made it known he wouldn't tolerate it if she avoided his questions again or tried being curious again.
She nodded, knowing that he meant business. "I asked you when you will be available for the business dinner you have tonight."
He shrugged. "What time am I available?"
She checked the pad in her hand. "You close from work by six. You are free by seven till ten."
"What time was the meeting meant to be originally?"
"It was scheduled for eight but they called to postpone yesterday, asking you to pick another time."
"Tell them to let us meet by seven. We can have a brief dinner and everyone will be on their way for the day. They can go for what they want to do by eight without getting delayed and I can turn in early for the night." He explained.
He didn't have to tell Alice that he wasn't turning in early for the night anyways.
"I will call them to confirm if the meeting can be moved back to seven." She said and walked out of the office.
He picked a file from one of those lying on his desk and flipped through it. He was determined to work and stop his attention from straying. He should have been done going through the files an hour ago when Alice dropped them on his desk.
Why did he feel like she had danced for him the previous night?
"Oh no!" He let out a curse, bunching his hand into a fist. "Julian, what is wrong with you?" He chided himself.
He needed to focus.
He was finally able to push his dark thoughts off his mind and worked for thirty minutes before Alice walked back into the office.
"Are you done with the files, boss?" She asked, glancing at the scattered documents on the desk.
"I will call you to come for them when I'm done." He replied, dropping his pen and gazing at her. "What is the update on the meeting?"
She sighed. "Mr. Valamoni's secretary informed me that he couldn't make it by seven. He wanted to know if the meeting can hold by nine instead."
Nine? He was about to tell her that there wasn't a problem until he remembered that nine was the time she danced at the club. He knew the girls danced based on schedule and there wasn't a time he got to the club that he wouldn't watch a girl dance but he didn't care.
The only dancer he was interested in watching was her.
He shook his head. "I'm not free by nine."
"You don't have anything else on your schedule."
He snorted. As if he didn't know that. "I have something personal."
She nodded at his lie. "Okay. I will call to postpone the meeting. How about tomorrow evening?"
What if they wanted to have the meeting by nine again? He needed to go to the business dinner as he desperately needed investment for his next project but he didn't see himself being anywhere else by nine at night except at Shades of Sin.
What was this obsession that he felt?
He groaned, rubbing his temple gently with his hand. He needed to find a way to focus.
"Ask them if we can make it a business lunch. We can try an afternoon meeting if night meetings don't work."
Her eyes went wild. "You know Mr. Valamoni doesn't fancy afternoon meetings."
Really?
She gave him a look like she expected him to know. Before she could ask him again what was wrong with him, he cleared his throat and forced out a fake laugh.
"I can't believe I forgot about that. Ask them about tomorrow evening and make sure the time doesn't change anymore."
"I will try my best." She said and walked out of the office.
He couldn't believe he had just cancelled a business dinner for a lady who was trying so hard to pretend he didn't exist. He knew he was being ridiculous but couldn't help himself. She was like a drug to his aching cores.
Later that evening, he breathed in the familiar scent of the club as he walked into it. He didn't belong here no matter how classy it seemed and the kinds of distinguished patrons it served. He preferred elite balls, business dinners and fashion shows and a month ago, he wouldn't have believed he would find himself in a rowdy club with loud music, semi-naked girls and horny patrons. The only thing that was up to his standard was the expensive drinks as they should be, based on the taste of the clientele they served.
He realized he had become one of the horny patrons he found distasteful the first night he stepped into the club and sighed at his latest reality. The difference between him and the other patrons was that he didn't shout like a bunch of horny teenage boys when the dance was going on. He hoped he didn't become one of them.
That was a low he didn't think he would ever recover from.
He walked to his usual spot, grateful that someone else wasn't there. Aside that the spot was dark and ensured that no one else would recognize him, it gave him the vantage position to see the stage clearly.
The music started and his blood roared with anticipation. He couldn't wait to see her. He hoped she would wear something else other than black that she usually wore. He wanted to see her in red. He wanted to see her in white. He had fantasies about slowly taking off her clothes off and slowly sinking into her body while she held on to the pole.
His dreams were filled of her and nowadays, he couldn't look at a pole anywhere without having nasty thoughts. His mother would have a heart attack if she knew where he was and the thoughts raging through his mind.
Imagining her reaction brought a strange sense of satisfaction to his heart and he wondered if he was acting out of his ordinary self because of his mother and not just because of the dancer. His mother would want to die if she knew the fantasies he had about a dancer, a low-breed as she fondly called everyone that didn't have millions of dollars sleeping lazily in their bank accounts.
He ran his lips unconsciously over his lower lip as he fixed his gaze on the opening she was going to enter through. One minute more and he would see her and he would be able to breathe in again.
His blood ran cold when the dancer walked in and the huge rush of disappointment that ran through his chest felt like huge waves.
Where was she?
He had cancelled a meeting for her. Why wasn't she here? He wanted to scream out his frustration at everyone and tumble the whole club, a feeling that was strange to him.
He wasn't aggressive. Why did he feel like he would tumble the whole world to find her?
Her? She had a name and he dared himself to use it, knowing that he was going to torture himself more.
Lottie.
He let out a groan, his groin going hard as he called her name over and over in his mind and wishing that he could summon her with the act.
Without wasting another moment, he made his way out of the club, ignoring the cheers from the other patrons. He didn't even glance at the lady twirling on the stage and didn't care if she was good or not.
As long as she wasn't Lottie, he didn't care. With another string of expletives, he slipped into his car and dashed out of the garage in a mad rush. He needed to go home.
He felt a huge dose of anger, disappointment and sexual frustration and the combination made him edgy. He hoped the coarse feeling churning inside of him wasn't something a cold shower couldn't fix.
He didn't know what the hell was wrong with him but one thing was clear. He needed to fix this obsession he had for Lottie or he was damned.
He might as well walk himself to hell to rot faster.