Secret Destiny: Sins of Odyssey Book 1

Secret Destiny

Sins of Odyssey Series, Book 1

Kathy Kulig

Burnt Stilettoes Press

EASTON, PENNSYLVANIA

Copyright © 2016 by Kathy Kulig.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the publisher, at the email address below.

Kathy Kulig/Burnt Stilettos Press

[email protected]

www.burntstilettospress.com

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. This book had been previously published as Secret Soiree. It has been extensively revised, lengthened and edited.

Book Layout ©2013 BookDesignTemplates.com

Edited by Arran McNicol and
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Cover design by Syneca Featherstone at
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Secret Destiny/ Kathy Kulig. -- 1st ed.

Heartfelt thanks to Lynn LaFleur, Karen Katchur, Cris Anson, Casey Hagen, Vikki Romano, Diane Mayer and Autumn Jordon. Without you all, so many books would be collecting dust on my hard drive, and so many ideas would never be brainstormed into stories. You know the answers even when I haven’t asked a clear question.

Find more books on my website

www.kathykulig.com

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A truth that’s told with bad intent

Beats all the lies you can invent.

―WILLIAM BLAKE

1

Destiny stared in the mirror at the zigzag smudge of black eyeliner across her eyelid.
Christ
. “I’ll be right out,” she yelled at the door. Her boss started pounding again. Her makeup had taken a jagged detour because of him.

“Destiny, get on out here, now,” Mick shouted. “Brandy’s the only girl on stage.” Her boss was in his usual cranky mood, and she wasn’t going to put up with his verbal lashes tonight.

“Be right there. Having a little costume malfunction. I think I have it fixed.” She repaired her makeup as best she could by darkening the shadow to hide the smudge. She’d decided on the sultry, dark look tonight. The turquoise contacts still swam on her eyes, but they’d have to do. The most important thing was to secure her blond wig so she didn’t lose the damn thing during her show.

Pushing through the door, she smiled sweetly to Mick, who had his hand on his hip and wore a disapproving glare. “Like the outfit—now get your tiny butt on stage,” he ordered. “The customers are falling asleep.”

“No wonder, with that music.” The DJ played a sexy, slow song. On the way to the bar, Destiny stopped at the DJ. “Hey, Alec.”

“How was class today?” Alec asked as he made adjustments to sound and lighting, looking at her the whole time. The triathlon junkie had piercings decorating his face and several tattoos on both arms. The body modification probably went beyond the arms and face, but she’d never asked.

“Long. I got out late and had to take a later train.”

“Seems like you’ve been going to school forever. Business must be a hard major.”

She groaned. He had no idea. “It is.” Although she didn’t take business courses. “Could you play something more upbeat? I didn’t get my nap in on the train today. I had to study for an exam.”

“Sure thing.” Alec grinned at her as he scanned his list of music downloads.

The bar smelled of fried chicken and burgers. The half of a peanut-butter sandwich she’d had hours ago would have to hold her until she got home.

Destiny climbed under the L-shaped bar, hopped up on the wooden elevated stage and made eye contact with the customers, focusing on the two men at her end of the bar who drank beer and ate burgers and fries. They were regulars and didn’t tip unless they’d had a few beers.

At the other side, Brandy worked the pole, her long blond hair swaying across her bare shoulders as she arched her back. She wore nothing but a G-string, silver platform boots with silver and black ribbons lacing up to her thighs. She eased up the pole, then flipped upside down, mesmerizing the half-dozen men at that end. Her large breasts bounced as she slowly slid down, spread her legs and landed on the stage in a split. She pulled herself up the pole until she stood upright with a slight bend at the waist. Legs straight and apart, she made the tiniest movements with her heels to give a nice shimmy to her ass.

A few men sitting around the bar stared, practically hypnotized, while others talked and completely ignored Brandy’s maneuver. Tips would be light tonight unless they could get the party going and a few more customers showed. Destiny hated when Mick sent her home early on the nights she really needed the cash.

Now on stage, Destiny changed her persona from the professional post-grad college student to the seductress. In her experience she got her best tips with a little aggressive, adventurous attitude. Men seemed to respond to that. Maybe their wives or girlfriends were bored with sex, or so they thought, and the men wanted a seductive female to fantasize about. Anything for good tips.

The DJ announced, “The lovely Destiny Noir.”

She smiled at the customers and ran a hand over her body, feeling a rush of excitement as all eyes focused on her for the moment. She strutted in her platform boots in a slow, sultry pace. No one can move quickly in six-inch heels with two-inch platforms. The shiny pleather boots reached above her knees. Tonight she wore a short plaid skirt that skimmed her ass cheeks, a thong beneath and a white see-through buttoned shirt that fit tight across her breasts and showed a lot of cleavage.

As she passed Brandy, they touched arms in a feigned sensual stroke. A few men’s jaws dropped.

“Hi, Destiny. Love your schoolgirl dominatrix outfit. You’ll be a hit tonight, honey,” Brandy said as she continued on to the other side of the bar.

Destiny Noir. At night she was Destiny Noir, seductress, exotic dancer. By day, she was Paula Chappell, final-year law student. Like Superman and Clark Kent. But there was nothing superhero-like about taking off her clothes and shaking her breasts and ass in front of a bunch of horny men and asking for tips. She took a huge risk working this job. Horrific school loans and the mortgage on her parents’ house kept her dancing despite the risk. Superman’s weak spot was kryptonite; hers was the ethics committee. If they ever found out about Destiny Noir, her career and future would be over.

When she reached the horizontal trapeze hanging from the ceiling, she pulled herself up and hung from her knees. Hanging upside down in this outfit got the men pulling dollar bills out by the handfuls and stacking them on the bar. Maybe there was hope for the night after all. She knew her boss would start pushing private dances. Lap dances weren’t her favorite thing, but the tips were usually better.

As she hung by her knees, her skirt fell up, revealing her ass and the tiny triangle of black fabric of her G-string. Gravity helped her breasts to fall out of the open shirt. In one motion she ripped off the top, which was held together by snaps. A second later, she tossed her skirt aside.

Tapping a lever on the top of the trapeze, she began to spin slowly. A few more men arrived and sat at her side of the bar. Good. She imagined herself like the woman in a circus swinging on a trapeze. That had been her dream as a child. Her parents had taken her to the circus and the trapeze act was her favorite. Destiny spun around by her knees like the woman in the circus, but that woman had never been naked.

As Destiny twirled faster upside down, she spied a man sitting at one corner sipping a beer and smiling at her. He looked familiar. It was hard to tell in the dim light while upside down. As the trapeze continued to spin, the tips of her long blond hair swept the wooden stage. Fortunately, her wig had stayed in place. She’d only lost it once doing this stunt. The costume mishap brought a good laugh and applause, not to mention some hefty tips. The wig was a pain, but she couldn’t risk going without it.

Twisting off the bar, she gracefully landed on both feet and glanced over at the man in the corner. Standing upright made it easier for her to focus.

Darius. Holy shit
. She froze on center stage as her mind went blank. She’d forgotten the rest of her routine. Naked except for her G-string, she moved to the opposite end of the bar to make her rounds for tips while she cleared her head.
Damn him. After two months, he shows up here.

Beginning at the other end, she greeted a customer, exchanged a few words, shook her breasts and allowed him to slide a dollar in her cleavage. She pressed them together to capture the bill. Then she moved on to the next patron, doing a similar routine for more tips, and on down the bar until she reached Darius.

“Thought you left town for good,” she said, then turned to shake her butt. She noticed the boss watched, disapprovingly. He didn’t like his girls talking too much. Collect the tips, then get back to dancing. Darius watched too, and that she did like. Even though she was annoyed with him.

“I know, it’s been a couple months. How are you, Paula?”

“Shhh. Destiny,” she corrected him. He could never remember to use her stage name while she performed. He locked eyes with hers and something tugged deep within her. Already her pussy felt moist at the thought of him deep inside her again. Of course, as always, it only took one look from him to stir her up. Sitting this close to her, he overshadowed her focus toward the other patrons. She was nearly naked and he stared at her with that playful spark like he wanted to climb up on stage and fuck her. And there was nothing they could do about it. Pure torture.

“Atlanta keeps us busy with back-to-back conventions. Good money, though.”

“Don’t they have any local convention centers?” Destiny bent over to shake her breasts, then stood up fast, flipping her hair back.

“Yes, but it’s my dad’s company and he prefers the larger contracts and the out-of-town travel.” He held up a dollar, smiling. She approached, squeezing her breasts together. His fingers slid between them, skimming her skin. More torture. She wanted him bad, wanted him to grab her flesh, pinch her nipples, suck them. She imagined him pulling her across the bar and having her straddle him, impaling her with his thick cock.

“You could call once in a while.” It took all her control to carry on a simple conversation when she really wanted to tell him to take her to bed.

He shrugged. “I know. I rarely use my phone when I’m on a job.” His voice turned husky. He gripped his beer. Maybe he didn’t trust himself to follow the rule that touching wasn’t allowed.

Dancing for tips was one thing; she had to be careful not to come on to any one customer. Which was hard to do when she stood partially naked in front of her lover, and even harder when she hadn’t seen him in weeks.

Darius leaned forward and whispered, “I need to talk to you. I have something you might be interested in.”

She grinned. “I bet.” She accepted another dollar from a nearby customer, then moved back to Darius. “How cute that you’ve missed me.”

“I have, but this is something else.”

“Destiny,” the boss called. “Private dances are done in the back.”

“Private dance?” Darius grinned. “I’m game. We’ll have time to talk.”

She frowned at him. Talking wasn’t what she had in mind. And how would they keep their hands off each other during a private dance?

Heat slid through her body at the thought of performing completely naked for Darius, with the added torture of not allowing him to touch her. She felt her sex getting wet. Talk?
We’ll see how much talking he’ll do.
“We get one song. That’s all,” she reminded him.