Enter the Sugar Hill Gentleman’s Club…
Married lawyer, Hassan Walker, can’t seem to get enough of the Sugar Hill Gentlemen’s Club, as he is in love with sexy dancer, Cinnamon. Unable to shake the taunting images of her out of his head, he can’t even have sex with his own wife without envisioning Cinnamon. When he makes up in his mind to never return to Sugar Hill again, he finds out that his wife is cheating on him. He uses her affair to his full advantage taking his obsession with Cinnamon to the next level.
Roxi Walker can no longer hide the secret affair she has been having with her female boss, Dawn James. Confused and in denial about her bi-sexuality, she does everything in her power to become more discreet, but Hassan is onto her every move. Given an ultimatum to stop cheating or lose her husband for good, she tries to give Dawn up, but can’t seem to fulfill her husband’s request completely.
Jada James’ sultry alter-ego “Cinnamon” is one of the tastiest treats for any hungry man that comes down to Sugar Hill. Never having feelings for any of the men that tip her to grant their wildest fantasies, she finds that she is just as curious about Hasan as he is about her. Once she realizes Roxi is the woman her sister has been seeing, she doesn’t mind going after Hassan using every trick in her book to get him.
Horizon’s House of Fashion’s Founder, Dawn James, encourages Jada to go after Hassan so she can have Roxi all to herself. When Jada gets pregnant, that plan only brings the couple surprisingly closer. Dawn comes up with a plan B, only it’s interrupted once her other married lover, Quincy
He glanced at his watch. She usually appeared before and it was almost that time. Taking another sip from his drink, he played with the gold wedding band on his finger nervously. His wife was at home in Hayes Valley
“You want another drink Mr. Hassan?” Erin asked staring at the almost empty glass.
He nodded his head without speaking, felt better if he didn’t.
She gave him a sly wink before heading to the bar.
He observed the dancers while they looked for men who were eager for lap dances. The women were all very attractive, but there was only one that he wanted to see. He grew more anxious each second he waited. Where was she and why was she torturing him?
The house music lowered. It was time. The moment he couldn’t shake from his mind all week had finally arrived.
Hassan sat up gulping the last of his drink. It was smooth going down, but his chest burned a little. He took a deep breath and then exhaled to help the smoldering sensation leave. That anxiousness wouldn’t die from his gut as he shifted in his seat. Enough was enough. All he needed was just one glimpse to help ease the heartburn.
The curtain rose. A hard hitting hip-hop beat thumped from the speakers through his chest imitating his heartbeat. She was facing the back of the dark stage wearing a white mini-dress that clung to her body. As soon as the spotlight beamed on her, she bent over to the side to grab her right ankle. She had an ass much like Deelishis from The Flavor of Love. Her long curly copper-red hair bounced as she spun around to walk center stage. She came to an abrupt stop when the music paused. A few men in the crowd whistled and howled like wild dogs.
As soon as the music started again, she wiggled her ass to the beat seductively and dropped low into a split in front of the pole leaning back to grab the silver rod with both hands. Cinnamon was her name and she was sweet and savory.
He watched her intently, daring himself to miss a beat. When she flipped over into a handstand, she gripped the pole with her solid legs. Her fluid trick made dollar bills fly from the hands of other hungry howling men, rain on the floor, and create a green blanket beneath her. Hanging upside down, she eased the dress down to her stomach to reveal her beautiful caramel-colored breasts.
She shook her top making those jugs jiggle while descending to the floor to remove her dress completely. She picked up the dollars, sliding them into the sides of her white thong, as she gyrated on the floor riding the beat of the music.
Crawling to the end of the stage, arching her back like a cat, and swinging her hair around in circles, she looked up to see Hassan at his usual table. The corners of her small mouth eased into a slight smile causing her dimples to deepen in each cheek. She did a slow wind up onto her feet making her way back to the pole.
She gripped the pole whipping her head around as she climbed to the very top of it. As soon as she touched the ceiling with the top of her head, she slid back down rapidly landing into a split position. More dollars flew on top of her.
Once her stage show was over, she picked up all the money, and hurried backstage to change. She dressed in black-laced attire, fishnet pantyhose, and high heels. Every nook and cranny of her body was well oiled and fresh smelling before walking back out of the dressing room.
Hassan waited patiently for her as he drank his last drink for the night. He never drank to get drunk, but to release some of his nervousness.
She came from the dressing room ignoring other men’s thirsty requests for lap dances and went straight to him as she always did. His eyes danced all over her body as if it was his first time ever laying eyes on her.
She gently moved a few red strands of hair out of her face as she stood in front of his table. “Are you ready?”
About The Author
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| Niyah Moore, Author |
Niyah Moore is one of the contributing authors of the 2008 African American Literary Award Winning Erotic Anthology Mocha Chocolate: Taste a Piece of Ecstasy (ShaniBooks), Chocolat Historie D’Amour (LadyElle Publishing), Souls of My Young Sisters (Kensington Publishing), and Mocha Chocolate Remix: Escapades of Passion (Nayberry Publications). Niyah released her debut novel Bittersweet Exes March 2010. She currently resides in Sacramento , California
To schedule an interview with the author, please contact info@nayberrypublications.com
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