Rated X

The seedy neon glow of the strip club flickered against the windshield asDetective Ministers pulled up in his unmarked sedan. He adjusted his tie, cut the engine, and stepped out into the humid night air. The bass-heavy thump of music pulsed from the club, making the concrete vibrate beneath his polished shoes.

Ministers had been stakeout:ing this joint for weeks, following a tip about some shady dealings going down. Tonight was supposed to be the night they flipped their informant and finally got the proof they needed to take down the whole operation.

But instead, here he was, about to walk into a den of debauchery and sin, all because his partner, Detective Hardcore, was too chickenshft to do the undercover work himself. “Somebody needs to keep an eye on that fake ID,” Hardcore had said through gritted teeth. “I’ll just be here, in the car, in case things go south.”

Ministers sighed and straightened his jacket. Well, duty called. Might as well embrace it. He swaggered up to the bouncer, a hulking figure in a tight t-shirt, and flashed his new ID.

“Mr. Johnson, huh?” The bouncer looked him up and down, unimpressed. ” TABLE DANCER of stew here. Ten bucks.”

Ministers handed over the cash and stepped inside. The music was thumping even louder now, and the air was thick with perfume and sweat. He scanned the room, taking in the sea of writhing bodies and gleaming poles. Then he spotted her: Candy, the best dancer in the joint, according to intel. She was currently grinding on some middle-aged creep in a too-tight suit.

It was showtime.

Minesters made his way over to the bar, keeping his eye on Candy. When she finally slinked off the creep’s lap, he pounced, sliding onto the stool next to hers and flagging down the bartender.

“Whiskey, neat,” he ordered, then turned to Candy with his sultriest smile. “Hey there, darlin’. I’m new in town. You’re lookin’ particularly…-rated tonight.”

Candy’s eyes narrowed. She leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear. “Rated, huh? Well, maybe later, big spender. Right now, it’s fifty for a dance.” She rubbed her finger against her thumb, emphasizing the point.

Minesters took the hint and pulled a bill from his wallet, pressing it into her palm. She leaned back and crooked a finger at him.

The music shifted and Candy moved, her body a sinuous ripple of muscle and bare skin. She spun away, her thong-clad ass bouncing inches from his face, then pulled him to his feet. He followed her to the stage, his heart pounding.

There, under the hot lights, she climbed onto the platform, the poles digging into the soft flesh of her hips. She arched her back, making her tits bounce, and ran her hands over her own body, teasing him with every movement. Ministers could barely think straight.

But he had to keep his wits about him. This was a job.

Suddenly, Candy was pressing against him, her breasts squishing against his chest as she ground her crotch against his thigh. Just as he was about to lose his mind, she pulled away and shot him a wicked grin.

“Like what you see, Mr. Johnson?” She leaned in close, her breath hot against his neck.

“More than,” he growled. “If the price is right, that is.”

Her eyes glinted. “Depends on what you’re willing to pay.” She grabbed his collar and tugged him lower for a long, deep kiss.

Before he could react, someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Big J, the club’s boss.

“Candy, off the stage, now. We got a VIP in the back, wants to see you.” His eyes raked over Ministers. “This one looks new. He a friend of yours?”

Minesters tensed. Candy shot him a look. “Yeah, I’ll be right back. Why don’t you have another drink, sweets?” She gave his ass a squeeze and strutted off, her hips swaying.

Minesters watched her go, then took a swig of his whiskey. This VIP must be the one. The opportunity he needed to get the goods.

He had to follow her. Now.

Excusing himself, he made his way backstage, following Candy’s glittery trail like a lost puppy. He peeked into a dressing room, and there she was, standing before a mirror, talking to some sleazy-looking guy in a gold chain.

“…you got my money?” she was saying, tying a flimsy robe around her waist.

“Yeah, yeah,” the guy said, palming her ass. “It’s in the car. Bring it to my place, yeah? Sunrise Hotel. Room 301. You know what I want.”

Minesters slipped away before they spotted him. So that’s where the action was. It was all coming together.

He waited until he was sure Candy was done, then slunk out of the club, his mission accomplished. Hardcore was waiting in the car, craning forward in excitement.

“Well? Did you get it? The proof?” His voice was squeaky with anticipation.

Minesters grinned and patted the jacket where his video camera was hidden. “Oh yeah. We got it all, bro. Big time.”

And that was that. By closing time, the raid was in motion. The club was raided, busts made, collars seized. Ministers watched it all go down with a smug smile, the events of the night still playing in his mind on a loop.

Rated X. He’d worked hard for it. And he was damn proud of his badge and the job he did.

THE END