Piece by Piece: A Modern Retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk Read online

  “Fuck.” He let out the breath he’d been unintentionally holding.

  “Yeah. That’s Harper, stage name Melody. She does one number like that a night. Don’t know why she bothers. All these guys want to see is her tits, ass, and pussy.”

  Jax clenched his hands into tight fists at his side, the overwhelming need to defend the damaged beauty on stage flooding him. But he had to keep his cool. Going off half-cocked to defend a stripper’s honor would get him nowhere. And there were potentially dozens of innocent girls’ lives at stake. But still the pull he felt toward her overwhelmed him, made him momentarily forget his responsibilities and loyalties.

  “I know that look.” Rick punched Jax in the arm, and Jax struggled to smile back at the guy. “Someone wants to get his dick wet. Don’t get your hopes up with that one, dude. She’s an infamous prude. I know, funny, considering what she does for a living every night.”

  Jax glanced back at the stage where Harper had now moved to one of the side stages. Her top had come off and she lay on the stage scissoring her legs open and closed before a table of half-drunk businessmen, a bored expression on her face.

  No matter how hard Jax resisted, he couldn’t stop his eyes from taking in her now naked chest. His cock throbbed painfully behind the zipper of his jeans as he took in the creamy skin of her breasts, tipped with dusky pink nipples. Those little buds would fit perfectly between his lips, and he wondered for a moment if she would gasp or moan when he sank his teeth delicately into them.

  “But she’s never so much as allowed anyone to touch her. Not even George. Hell, she won’t even take off her G-string. Don’t know how the fuck she gets away with that shit.” Rick shook his head and walked to the other end of the bar, muttering ‘it’s a damn shame’ under his breath.

  For the rest of the night Jax avoided looking Harper’s way. The impossibly gorgeous redhead would only distract him from the task at hand. Keeping his eyes open, looking for evidence, getting into George’s inner circle, that was his mission.

  Forty-five minutes of avoiding the stage and audience later, Jax had to get away, if only for a few minutes. “Rick, we’re out of tequila. I’m going to go grab some from the back.”

  Rick nodded his response and Jax headed to the storage room. The shelves were lined with alcohol bottles, and the floor with kegs. Leaning his head against the cool metal shelves, Jax took several deep breaths, willing away the magnetic pull toward Harper. But just as he started to gain control of himself again, the door swung open and the vixen herself walked through.

  “Hey, Harper, right?” He called out before he could stop himself. “You look pretty incredible up there.” Jax couldn’t get the image out of his head, of her body weaving around the pole. Didn’t think he’d ever be able to.

  The curvy bombshell stopped dead in her tracks, quite the feat in what had to be six inch platform stilettos. Her shoulders square, the muscles in her body tensing for a fight before she turned to face him with those blank eyes.

  Hands propped on hips, she stood totally unconcerned about the fact that she wore nothing more than a triangle of fabric over her pussy, and her tits hung out for all to see. “Look, I know you’re new here, so I’ll say this one time. I don’t blow the bartenders, I don’t fuck the bartenders, and I don’t share my tips with the bartenders. So you can go ahead and fuck off.”

  Jax’s head snapped back as if she’d slapped him. This chick obviously had stories to tell. Stories that weren’t part of his mission. Still, he couldn’t help the desire to play with this woman a little. Get a reaction. “Good to know. Just so you know, I make tips fine on my own, if we did fuck you’d be unable to dance for a week, and I would devour that pussy just for the pure pleasure of seeing some fire in those green eyes.”

  Now, apparently, it was Harper’s turn to be taken aback. Her arms dropped to her side, and the tension released slightly from her toned muscles. Tilting her head to one side, her cat-like eyes took him in from head to toe. For the first time since he’d seen her, something crackled behind those cold eyes.

  A spark of something more, maybe a hint of who she used to be before landing in this shit hole. “Listen, I don’t know what your deal is, but you obviously don’t belong in this place. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out. Now. Trust me.” Harper went to turn her back on him, but before she could, he stepped forward, putting out a hand to stop her. She froze, glaring at that outstretched appendage.

  Jax dropped his hand like it had filled with cement. “What makes you think I don’t belong here?” He leaned against the shelving to his right, giving her that cocky smirk that drove his commanding officers nuts.

  She arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow, that spark behind her eyes growing in intensity. “For starters? Your haircut obviously came from a salon, and a good one at that. Your nails and teeth are clean, hell, almost pristine. The beard is a good try, but you keep fucking with it, which makes me think you aren’t totally comfortable with it yet.” Her gaze wandered down to his arms and the black and grey tattoos he had been collecting ever since his days in the Army. “Those tattoos are top of the line. No shaky hands pumped with too much cocaine in a basement did those pieces. Your muscles are cut in a way that screams personal trainer, not hard labor and not enough food. The clothes you wear aren’t anything special, but they’re also unstained and clean.” Her intense eyes returned to connect with his. “But mostly, you don’t avoid eye contact with anyone, which is a mistake because they give away that you aren’t nearly desperate enough to be sinking as low as to work in a pit like this.”

  Jax sucked in a breath. Fuck. Six months of work on this cover and it could all be blown to shit because he had to try and flirt with a stripper more perceptive than half the agents at Quantico. Hell, he hadn’t even realized he’d been fidgeting with his beard, which did itch like a mother fucker. And yet, her assessment somehow made his dick even harder. Obviously, he’d been at half staff since the woman had walked out on stage, but hearing the raw intelligence come out of those lush lips had him raging to escape the confines of his jeans as soon as possible.

  She took a step closer to him, the tips of her puckered nipples barely grazing the fabric of his T-shirt. “Listen, I don’t give a shit why you’re here. Your business, not mine. I’m just sayin’, if you got someplace else you can or should be, go back there. All being here is going to get you is a dead soul, and more than likely an STD if you fuck with the other dancers. I’m just about the only one not blowing losers in the backroom for ten bucks a pop.”

  “Why are you here?” As soon as the words spewed from his mouth, Jax wished he could suck them back in. This wasn’t his mission. One lost woman didn’t compare to dozens of teenage runaways being trafficked around the country for God knows what purposes. But damn if he couldn’t stop himself. This chick had her hooks in him, and she didn’t even know it. One look at her threw him completely off the rails, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t center himself again to the focused agent known for taking down the toughest criminals. Every molecule of his body screamed for him to save her, no matter the cost. Goddamn Messiah complex.

  Her eyes went cold once again, all life seeming to drain out in an instant. “Penance.”

  And she turned, walking behind the curtain separating the dancers’ locker room from the rest of the storage area.

  Chapter 2

  Harper

  Harper leaned against the cold cement block wall, sucking in breaths as fast as they would come. No man had made her feel that alive in years. She hadn’t felt alive since she had found Goldie, her younger sister, dead on the floor, naked, a needle in her arm. Obviously Goldie had recently been visited by her scumbag dealer who traded a rough fuck for the drugs her sister could never manage to kick. And in the next room Goldie’s baby was screaming.

  Harper died right along with Goldie that night. The only reason her heart still beat enough to keep her moving was that she had to do right by Rose, Goldie’s daught
er.

  The little girl was the light of her life, already smarter than her mom had ever been. Sassy too. She could talk herself out of trouble without ever having to think about it. And at only four and a half. The tiny spitfire lived with her grandma, Harper and Goldie’s mom, a little over an hour away. But a widow living on disability checks didn’t exactly have enough to raise a little girl properly, so when Harper figured out how much money she could make in one night stripping, she dropped out of college and quit her part-time job at a law firm.

  The Beanstalk was a pit, but she could walk out each night with twice as much in cash as she could make in a week working an office job. After paying rent on both her apartment and the cute ranch house she’d put her mom and niece up in, utilities, food, and gas for her beat up old car, the rest went to making sure Rose had the life she deserved. She had toys, some even bought brand new instead of from the second-hand store. She went to a good preschool, one that took the children of doctors and lawyers. She was fed, clothed, and had no idea that her aunt let men openly jerk off at the sight of her body in a seedy club.

  Since working as a dancer, Harper’s desire for men had dried more than the Sahara Desert. Until tonight, when Jax appeared. She’d seen him getting the tour earlier in the night. Right away she knew he was different. He didn’t leer at the girls like the rest of them. His eyes didn’t linger on their breasts. No, he looked the girls in the eyes, even when they stood stark naked in front of him. Right away she knew he was used to not only receiving, but giving respect. The guys that normally worked in the Beanstalk probably didn’t even know how to spell the word.

  Yes. He was different. And the body that went along with that respectful man made her panties wet for the first time in almost three years. The black uniform T-shirt all the bartenders wore barely contained his biceps, and the colorful swirling ink that appeared from under the sleeves stood out in stark contrast. He had dark brown hair, longish on the top but cut short at the sides, and even darker brown eyes. And the scruffy beard covering his strong chin made her wonder what it would feel like scraping across her neck. An ache that had long ago disappeared suddenly remerged, and Harper knew without a doubt Jax would be the only one who could ease it.

  No.

  She couldn’t go there. It had taken weeks for her to make it clear to George that she had no interest in earning the fringe benefits he offered the girls in exchange for a quick fuck in his office. Not that he didn’t still try occasionally. If she showed interest in Jax now, she’d start calling attention to herself again. Make George think maybe he had a right to her body. She couldn’t have that. The only reason he’d left her alone this long was because she had kept her mouth shut about all the illegal things that went on in the club night after night. She pretended not to see the drugs and the prostitution, and as long as she continued to bring men into the club with her pole work and nimble body, they had a silent agreement.

  George didn’t touch; Harper didn’t talk.

  Her breathing now calmed, Harper opened her eyes, taking in the dim dressing room. Kandy, or Candace as she knew her, walked in through the curtain, her gym bag slung over one arm. “Damn, girl. Did you see that new piece of ass behind the bar? Fuck, I’d ride that beard all night long.”

  Harper couldn’t help but laugh. Kandy, a die-hard lesbian, proudly touted the fact she had never even once had a real cock inside her. She was also the only other girl employed at The Beanstalk who didn’t sell herself in the private rooms, or entertain George’s advances. But she danced with the other girls on stage every night, giving the men their own front row seat to a little girl-on-girl action. Technically everything she did was legal, but barely.

  They had even danced together a couple of times, kissing and groping at each other while the men whooped it up in the audience. The act always brought in big money, and Kandy’s laid-back personality never made it weird. Harper felt no more kissing Kandy than she did kissing the back of her own hand, but if it meant another month of that fancy preschool for Rose, Harper would do it without a second thought. She knew their performances skated that thin line between dancing and hooking, but she figured they didn’t pay her to make out with Kandy; they paid for the privilege to watch.

  “You making a preference switch I’m not aware of?”

  Kandy scoffed, dropping her bag in front of the makeup table they shared. “No. But even I can tell when a man is hot. And that guy is five alarms. Plus, that beard looks like it would feel good scratching against your thighs.” She straddled her chair, making obscene thrusting motions.

  That image invaded Harper’s mind, no matter how hard she tried to keep it at bay. When Jax had said he’d devour her just to see some fire in her eyes, she almost melted on the spot. The past three years she hadn’t even bothered to take out the vibrator she used to enjoy using so much back in her college days. She hadn’t experienced an orgasm in years, and suddenly that felt like a tragedy. There was no doubt in her mind Jax could give her many, many orgasms. In one night.

  “Hey now, is that interest I see on your face?” Kandy stared at Harper, opened mouthed. “Holy shit, are you into him?”

  “No! Of course not!”

  “Bullshit, I see it all over your face. Hell, you practically have cum dripping down your leg.” Kandy jumped up, grabbing Harper and shook her slightly. “Do it. Jump that cowboy and ride him until he drops from exhaustion. You need it. Three years is way too fucking long. I can’t even go three days without getting my face between some chick’s thighs.”

  “Well we aren’t all raging nymphos like you, Kandy.”

  “Oh please, I’ve known you since we were little brats stealing lip gloss from the corner store. You may not have been sleeping with every guy you came across, but damn it, you used to love sex. I know everything that went down with Goldie changed you, but that doesn’t mean you need to sew up your lady purse and ignore it completely.”

  Tears stung behind Harper’s eyes at the mention of Goldie, but she covered her moment of emotion with a laugh. “I didn’t sew it up, just put it on hiatus. Indefinitely.”

  “Yeah, well, this hiatus lasts much longer and the thing is going to form cobwebs.” Kandy peeled off her shirt to reveal her huge naked breasts, standing perky and high thanks to the boob job she’d gotten the year before. She tossed the shirt to the side before laying out her makeup on the table. “All I’m saying is not fucking that bartender is not going to bring Goldie back. And screwing him sideways isn’t going to make you like one of the girls taking crusty dollar bills for titty fucking customers in the back either. It will make you less of a bitch, however.”

  Harper plopped down in her chair, elbowing Kandy at the same time. “I am not a bitch.”

  “Tell that to the girl you made cry last week.” Kandy leaned closer to the mirror, swiping her thick black eyeliner into perfect points.

  “Dude, she used my lipstick without asking. I’ve seen what she does with that mouth.” Harper shuddered at the memory of seeing the strung out girl switching back and forth blowing two men in the back room. She tried hard not to judge the girls and what they felt they had to do to get by, but she didn’t always succeed.

  “Okay true, but doesn’t change my point that you need to shove that man’s dick as far into your lady hole as possible.”

  Harper tossed the tissue she’d been using to wipe off her caked on makeup at Kandy. “Shut up.”

  They sat in silence while Harper shed her stripper persona and Kandy layered hers on. Seeing the freckles splattered across her nose reappear as she whipped away the caked on makeup always made Harper feel better. More like herself. Standing from her station, she took off the G-string she despised and slipped into her plain cotton panties and bra, followed by a well-worn pair of jeans and loose T-shirt. She gathered her thick red hair into a messy ponytail and placed the glasses she required for driving at night on her face. The mirror reflected back a totally different person than had been there minutes before. Shoving her feet
into her converse sneakers, she threw a goodbye to Kandy over her shoulder and made her way to the door.

  As quietly as she could, Harper slinked against the back wall, eyes on the floor. The men didn’t bother her; thankfully, all eyes stayed glued to the stage as two women writhed on the floor, their legs splayed open for all to see. Relief washed over her as she stepped out the door into the parking lot. Another night of that hell hole done.

  “Harper, wait!”

  She groaned, so close to being free. Turning, she shoved her hands in her pockets, not wanting to interact with anyone from the club without the armor of her makeup and heels. But her heart sped up as Jax’s large frame jogged towards her.

  “I’m instituting a new rule that all the girls have to get walked to their cars after their shift. I don’t trust the looks of some of those customers.” He ran one hand through his hair, stopping just a few feet from her.