The low thrum of bass pulsed up through the sidewalk. Evelyn’s heels clicked sharply against the wet concrete as she crossed the street…
The low thrum of bass pulsed up through the sidewalk. Evelyn’s heels clicked sharply against the wet concrete as she crossed the street. Her dark coat cinched around her waist, her cleavage on perfect display.
Downtown was waking up, a blur of neon spilling in foggy vapor and cigarette smoke. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder and approached the red velvet rope with absolute confidence.
Maurice was waiting for her, gold clipboard in hand, headset tucked tight against his temple. His smile grew the instant he saw her.
“Took you long enough to get here,” he said. “The guy was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.”
Evelyn stopped two feet in front of him, letting the coat slip just enough to reveal the tight black corset and dress beneath, straps biting into skin, silver hardware shimmering under the streetlight. She tilted her head.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll be just fine once he sees me.”
Maurice gave her a look. “Uh huh, what kind of service does he think he’s getting?”
“Bottle service,” she purred, her voice a touch husky. “Maybe special attention. But that’s not part of the package.” Her eyes gleamed.
“Back to teasin’ huh?” Maurice unclipped the rope and let Evelyn pass.
“Always, did you get a look at him?”
Maurice nodded slowly. “I did.”
“Is he hot?”
Maurice laughed and shook his head. “Absolutely the fuck not.”
She sighed right back at him. “How many friends?”
“He packed out the VIP area. Don’t worry, you won’t be the only bottle girl. But you’re the main event.”
Evelyn smiled, slow and feline. “Aren’t I always?” She stepped past the velvet rope, brushing Maurice’s shoulder. “Is Angela here?”
“Yup. Just got in. She was happy to show once she heard you’d be here.”
“Good,” Evelyn said flatly, eyes already fixed on the glowing entry. “Let’s make some money.”
The club swallowed her in black walls, strobe lights, and a sea of moving bodies. The DJ was already ramping into a deep, tribal set, the club pulsed to the ache of the speakers.
As Evelyn stepped deeper, all eyes turned to her.
They always did.
Her heels bit into the glowing LED floor as she walked, every step precise. She smiled at the eyes that lingered. Gave a wink to one of the bouncers. A man spilled his drink watching her pass. Evelyn didn’t break stride.
She was halfway to the back bar when a girl stepped into her path. A slim blonde in a silver tube top, tugging a dazed boyfriend behind her.
“I’m so sorry,” the girl said, clutching her drink. “But… you’re Gothychix, right?”
Evelyn turned, smiling easily. “Are you two fans?”
The girl bounced slightly. “We are! You are so hot, I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you.” Her boyfriend said nothing—just stared, open-mouthed, like he’d forgotten language.
“Can we get a picture?”
“Of course,” Evelyn said, reaching for the girl’s phone. She turned toward the lens, pressing her body between the couple. Just as she snapped the shot, she felt a hand sliding low, and clumsy fingers squeezing her ass tightly.
Evelyn turned her head slowly. The boyfriend froze. His hand lingered as a dumb smile formed on his face.
Evelyn grinned, wicked and sharp. “Hope you two have a good night,” she said sweetly, brushing his wrist off like lint.
She walked away without looking back.
Angela was at the bar, leaning over a tray of tequila shots, dark curls cascading around her honey-brown skin, hips wrapped in a leather harness over fishnets. Her curves were always something Evelyn deeply admired. When Angela saw her, she lit up, waving like a drunk cheerleader.
“Oh my god, look at you, girl! How have you been?” Angela ran to her and gave her a hug.
Evelyn smirked, walking into her arms, their cheeks kissing once. “Busy. Rich. Horny.”
Angela snorted. “Still in your villain era, I see.”
Evelyn flagged down the bartender and leaned in close. “Two mezcal, one with lime.”
Angela pressed against her side. “So? What’s the latest? Who’s got your attention?”
Evelyn accepted the drinks and passed one over to Angela. They downed them like professionals.
“Elijah.” Evelyn didn’t look at Angela when she said his name.
Angela raised her eyebrows. “No. Way. The guy from the dating app?”
Evelyn sipped. “Mmhmm.”
“And? Is he actually your lifestyle?”
“So he says.” Evelyn’s words were dry and calculated.
Angela tilted her head. “Well… was he nice?”
Evelyn nodded, expression unreadable. “Very.”
Angela watched her for a beat. “You think it’s gonna be a thing?”
Evelyn shrugged, smiling just behind the rim of her glass. “Not sure. I don’t know if I’m ready to be someone’s fantasy.”
Angela laughed. “Do you think that’s what he’s turning you into?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“Just do you, babe. The rest will work out on its own.”
Evelyn grabbed two shots of Tequila from the tray. They clinked glasses. The alcohol burned down sweet and rough.
“So what’s the story with our birthday boy tonight?” Evelyn asked.
Angela slid her shot glass across the bar.
“Same story as always. Young, arrogant, rich. He’s packed the place to the brim, so there’ll be plenty of money flying around.”
“Is he hot?’ Evelyn asked.
Angela smirked. “Kind of?”
“Good. You ready to get going?” Evelyn asked.
“Let’s fucking do this!”
The upstairs VIP section looked like a rap video shoot. Colored lights pulsed over chrome furniture, half-naked dancers filtered through the booths, and a cluster of young men were already becoming enraptured in the alluring temptation placed before them.
Then Evelyn appeared. The room began to shift around her, orbit her every word, every practiced laugh, every touch. She was a professional, and she was good at it.
Most of the men tried not to stare. They failed. Evelyn gave them just enough attention to make them reach for their courage. And then she’d turn. Hips swaying, her OnlyFans link burning in the back of their minds like a branding iron. She was what they wanted, and she loved making them feel like they couldn’t have it.
Then there was Ivan.
He spotted Evelyn the moment she entered. She felt his gaze burn into her while she entertained. He was in his late twenties, maybe. Sandy blond curls tied back, cut jaw, lean body in tight black jeans, and a vintage tee too expensive for what it was.
“Well shit,” he called out, arms wide. “Gothychix really showed!”
Evelyn approached him with a gentle sway that weaponized her every curve. Ivan grabbed a wad of hundreds and stuffed them directly into her cleavage.
“Show me a good time, alright?” He said loudly.
“I always do,” she replied coolly, plucking one bill from her chest and tucking it behind his ear.
He laughed, biting his lip as he lost himself in her eyes. “You’re dangerous.”
She leaned in, lips just by his ear. “You have no idea.”
Angela slid in behind her, popping a champagne bottle as her body swayed to the music.
“Happy Birthday birthday boy!!” The room erupted.
The next hours blurred in motion. Evelyn pouring shots between her breasts, a guy trying to get her number and failing miserably, hands brushing her hips, bills tucked into her garter. It was always like this. She smiled for the tips. Smirked when they talked over each other. Laughed when she saw them falling in love with her.
All the while, Ivan never stopped watching.
He orbited her with the rest, always making sure to show he was the biggest spender, the one in control. Eventually, he sidled up beside her with a glass in each hand. “So is this your whole thing? You just show up and make men go dumb?”
She looked at him sidelong. “You paid for it.”
“You could make a guy fall in love.”
“Then what would I do for work?”
Ivan grinned. “Come with me.”
She glanced toward Angela, who gave her a subtle “you good?” expression.
Evelyn gave her an assuring nod in return, finished her drink, and set the glass down with a soft clink. “Lead the way.”
Ivan guided her down a dim hallway, past a velvet rope, into one of the private booths closed off with dark curtains and gold fixtures. He pulled back the curtain, several of his friends were already inside.
The room was dim and velvet-lined, a private nook carved away from the club floor’s heartbeat. LED lights pulsed behind smoked glass. Someone had ordered bottle service twice over, the ice buckets were sweating, and half the table was powdered with sugar dust and ash.
Ivan had claimed the central chair like a throne, pulling Evelyn onto him. He sat wide-legged and relaxed, swathed in gold chain links, spilling arrogance with every laugh. One hand gripped a glass of champagne. The other was buried beneath Evelyn’s ass.
She didn’t flinch. She stayed perched on his lap, a long-legged silhouette in her skin-tight black dress, one hand stroking the back of his shaved neck. Her nails trailed against his skin with delicate, practiced motions. Ivan looked up at her, pulling her close as he pressed his cheek against her chest.
“Jesus,” Ivan muttered. “You’re fuckin’ unreal.”
His fingers slid boldly over her hips, pushing the hem of her dress higher. Evelyn shifted just slightly, letting her thigh press into his groin.
“You this handsy with all the bottle girls?” she asked, feigning sweet curiosity.
Ivan grinned, not bothering to answer. His hand climbed to cup one of her breasts through the tight fabric. He squeezed with no finesse. She arched slightly, her pose perfectly practiced.
“You know,” he said, breath hot on her collarbone, “I’ve seen your OnlyFans.”
Evelyn tilted her head, eyes lidded and amused. “Oh, have you?”
“Damn fucking straight I have. I’ve seen what that mouth can fucking do.”
She smiled slowly. One manicured finger trailed down his chest, stopping just beneath the edge of his open shirt.
“You like watching me suck dick?” she asked, voice smooth and curious. It was the pull of a siren, one which no man could resist.
“You’re a fucking slut, that’s for god damn sure,” Ivan reached into a duffel bag at his feet and pulled out a clump of hundreds. He shoved them toward her like a dog with a bone. “Wanna give me a special birthday present?”
“I’m not that easy,” Evelyn purred, letting the stack hover in front of her.
Ivan laughed, low and mean. He reached into the bag again and pulled out another wad, slapping it down on her thigh, the rubber bands hitting her skin with a loud clap.
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
She stared for a moment, tempered and poised. Then picked up the bills and flipped through them with her thumb, counting silently.
“Cute,” she said flatly. “I want another band.”
Ivan scoffed. “Goddamn—”
But he reached into the duffel again, grabbed two more stacks, and held them out like an offering. Evelyn leaned in. Her fingertip brushed behind his ear. Her lips grazed him as she whispered.
“Tell everyone to leave.”
Ivan tensed beneath her. She could feel the surge of primal excitement overtaking him. He turned and barked to the room, “Yo! Get the fuck out!”
Chairs scraped. The room emptied like a sink draining. A few bottle girls giggled as they gathered purses and gave Evelyn a knowing look. The group disappeared behind the curtain.
And then they were alone.
Evelyn slid off his lap, smoothed her dress, and stepped between his legs. Her heels clicked once on the floor, then silenced. She looked up at him with that same unreadable mask she always wore.
“You ready?” She asked him.
“Y-yes.” Ivan was far more timid when he was alone. Evelyn handed him her phone.
“Record,” she said.
Ivan blinked. Then took it, thumb already hovering over the red button.
Evelyn dropped to her knees.
Her fingers moved with confident precision, undoing his belt, and sliding down his zipper. His thick cock sprung from his pants. It was thick already, pulsing with anticipation. She stared at it a moment, then wrapped her hand around its base.
“You impressed?” Ivan asked. Evelyn smiled.
“Give me another band and I’ll say yes.” She didn’t wait for a reply. Her hand moved up and down his shaft. Slow, deliberate, and leaned in.
Her mouth opened just enough to lick the tip, tongue swirling in one teasing circle. Ivan hissed through his teeth, her phone shaking in his hand.
She watched him squirm for a moment, then fixed her eyes on his cock while she swallowed him whole.
It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t eager. She sucked him with surgical skill. Slow bobbing movements that grew in depth and rhythm, each descent sealing tighter around his cock. Saliva ran down her chin, glistening over his shaft. Her lips made a soft, wet sound every time she came up for breath.
Ivan watched, mesmerized. “God damn…”
She was overtaking him, Evelyn could see that. She had bewitched him to a point where she knew he was hers. It happened with every man, it was only ever a question of when they would break.
Ivan’s hips buckled. With one hand, he grabbed a fistful of Evelyn’s hair. With the other, he shoved the phone closer to her face. Then he thrust up, hard.
Evelyn gagged, opening her throat to make way for Ivan’s aggressive pace.
“That’s fucking right, take it,” he grunted.
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed at him – a look of defiant challenge – and sucked harder. Her mouth tightened as her movements became more aggressive, matching his roughness. Her lipstick smeared as she deep-throated him. Ensuring to gag and moan loudly for Ivan’s pleasure.
Ivan groaned. “Fuck, fuck, just like that—”
He stood suddenly, pushing her back slightly, guiding her head with both hands. His cock filled her mouth over and over again, saliva poured down her chest as his throbbing cock hit the back of her throat.
She placed her hands on his thighs, never pulling away as Ivan face fucked her.
“Holy shit, you’re such a good little slut. You want this fucking dick, don’t you?”
Evelyn moaned around him. Low, guttural, and full of heat. Her mascara ran. Her jaw flexed with effort.
His hips bucked.
“Oh fuck!”
He groaned loud as he came, thick pulses of cum shooting down her throat.
“Swallow it,” Ivan said, pushing himself deep into Evelyn’s mouth. She held steady, letting it flood down her throat. She relaxed her jaw as she swallowed, her soft lips pressing against Ivan’s ballsack. His fingers balled tightly in her hair as he emptied himself.
Ivan’s breath steadied, and after a few gentle thrusts, he slowly pulled out. His cock glistened, slick and red at the tip. Evelyn coughed once, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She reached into her bag and pulled out a compact, reapplying her lipstick and fixing her mascara in the mirror like it was just another part of her shift.
“So is the birthday boy happy?” she asked, her voice calm and collected.
Ivan slumped back into the chair, dazed, still holding the phone like a relic.
“You’re… fucking amazing.”
“I know.” She stood and fixed the hem of her dress.
Ivan glanced down at the footage on the screen, thumb hovering over the playback.
“I might ask for you again,” he said. Evelyn walked over to him, gently plucking her phone from his fingers.
“And I might come back.” Evelyn walked over to the curtain, looking back over her shoulder. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
—
Outside, the bass of the club vibrated the concrete. Evelyn found Angela leaning against the bar near the staff corridor, scrolling through her phone as she took a drag from her vape pen.
“Night,” Evelyn said, giving her a quick wave. Angela looked over at her.
“Did you make bank?” She asked.
“Mmhm.” Evelyn smiled sweetly, walking past.
“Good for you girl, get home safe! I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good babe,” Evelyn said.
She slid into her Uber. The door clicked shut, and she exhaled slowly, her body sinking into the seat. Her hands moved automatically, unlocking her phone.
She watched the first few seconds of the video. The lighting was perfect. Her mouth, her moans, her eyes. All of it, perfect. She watched Ivan’s cock sliding past her lips, fixing her hair nervously as she clipped part of the video.
It would hit hard. It would hit exactly where it needed to.
She opened Venmo and searched Elijah’s name.
$650 memo: For the Hotel + a little something extra 😉
Then she attached the file and hit send.
The rush hit her slowly, and as she closed her phone, Evelyn felt something she hadn’t felt in years.
A flutter in her heart.