Contemporary multicultural erotic romance (X rated)
Smashwords and Amazon KDP
ISBN: (Smashwords) 9781370492565
Love never lies
My job makes it hard to have a real relationship. I never know where my next project will be, but I can bet that it won’t be in America’s heartland. So I read a lot, and seek my own five-fingered companionship. Busy with my construction gig in the Thai northeast, I didn’t think I needed what Bangkok had to offer.
Then Lek stepped onto the stage at the Butterfly Bar and began to dance. I fell for her during the first five minutes of her set. The weekend we spent together was pure heaven. How could I know our love would drag me through hell?
Butterfly Buy Links:
Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079KR62XL
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B079KR62XL
Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/787824
“They want you to buy them drinks,” Charlie told me. “Whenever a customer buys them a drink, they get ten baht.”
“Is that all they want?” I was overwhelmed by the feminine flood surging around me.
“Well, of course they want tips. And if you like one of them enough, you can pay to take her out of the bar.”
“They’re prostitutes?” All at once I felt slightly queasy. The atmosphere was so different from a State-side joint, light-hearted and playful. I didn’t want to think about how it might be tainted.
“Well—it’s up to them. The bar pays them to dance and to push drinks. If they want to make a private arrangement, that’s their personal choice. When they decide to leave for the evening, they simply compensate the bar for lost drink income.”
“Hmm.” As I pondered this, the music changed, becoming slower and more sensual. Meanwhile, the leftmost dancer stepped down from the bar, and the remaining women moved left to new positions. A figure appeared at the right end of the bar.
Something about her caught my attention. With casual elegance, she shed her kimono and draped it over a bar stool. Then she turned toward the shrine in the corner near the ceiling. Touching her fingertips together, she brought them to her forehead and bowed, her reverent gesture totally at odds with the environment.
I felt a strange ache in my chest as I watched her mount the steps to the bar, smooth and sure on her stiletto heels. She was taller than many of the girls, slender and willowy. Her long hair rippled around her as she moved, perfectly attuned to the melody and rhythm.
She was a natural dancer. Her fluid gestures held me transfixed. She grasped one of the poles leading from the bar to the ceiling and arched backward until her hair brushed the floor. Waves flowed through her, sweet undulations that began in her pelvis and shimmered up her spine. By comparison, the other girls appeared clumsy and coarse. She was not trying to entice, it seemed. She was lost in the music. Yet there was something supremely sexy about her performance. I found myself hardening as I gazed at her, turned on for the first time since entering this den of flesh.