And suddenly, I’ve got a hard-on. I grunt and grab onto the back of a chair. Julia slides one strap of her dress off her shoulder, revealing an expanse of beautiful, creamy skin. She grabs the pole and twirls around it again, moving her body in rhythm and time to the music. Slowly pulsing, like she’s actually fucking the song.
I tighten my grip on the chair’s back so hard I think I might actually snap the goddamn thing.
She’s more limber than I thought. Way more fucking limber. She stretches a leg up as high as she can, so that her heel is almost level with her head. It’s not perfectly graceful—her leg shudders for a moment, stretching to its limit—but she finishes flawlessly. I catch a flash of her ass as she grabs her shoe, spins around the pole again, and lowers her leg.
The song ends. She’s breathing heavy, and her eyes are dazzling. They’re electric, pure fire, and as the applause explodes around her, she locks her gaze with mine and doesn’t look away. She’s challenging me. Daring me. And something possessive, something primitive, flames in my blood.
I need to fuck this woman. Now. And I think she wants me just as bad. Was I saying something before, about her being annoying? Overly sparkly? Fuck that asshole. Fuck him and send him right the fuck home. He had no idea.
I push through the crowd, hurry over to the stage and help her down.
“Great job!” people say around us, but all I know is Julia’s hand finding mine. Her eyes tilt up the hazy, wanton expression is still there. She needs me. Her body is pressed up against me, her tits popping out of her low cut top. We walk away, finding a dark corner, a place no one can see. There, I snake an arm around her waist, press her against me. Julia gasps, feeling my hard-on through my jeans.
“I think someone lost the bet,” she whispers, her lips just—just—grazing mine.
“Fuck the bet. Where can we go?” I grunt. In the confusion of the crowd, no one’s gotten to us yet. My hands move along her bare arms, the touch of her skin electricity. I want to feel every inch of her naked body, want to hear her moan my name. I need her alone.
“Is there a closet around here?” she mutters. Her lips part, waiting for me to kiss her. And I will. Everywhere.
First, we find the fucking closet.
9
Nate
Yesterday, 10:19 pm
We duck down the hallway and find a door. Flinging it open, we discover the room’s empty. Perfect. I’ve never been so happy to see a janitor’s closet in my life. I kick the bucket and mop out of the way as Julia enters, follow her, and slam the door shut. This closet is dark, and I put my hands on her. She gasps just with that contact. Julia pulls on a chain, and a light bulb comes to glaring life above us.
No. I reach up and yank it off.
“I want to fuck you like this,” I tell her, sealing her mouth with mine. “In the dark.” My lips brush hers. She tastes fucking glorious, the rich tang of alcohol warm on her breath, mixed with cherry lip gloss and the scent of arousal. She pulls me against her, hooks her arms around my neck, and climbs me.
Goddamn, this woman goes after what she wants.
I’m about to come just thinking about it.
“I don’t have any condoms,” I grunt as I help her pull her shirt over her head. Her bra is lacy; I toy with the edges of it, my fingers ghosting over the swell of her breast. She moans as I pull the bra down, her nipple going hard as I touch her. I flick my tongue across her peak, take her breast into my mouth and suck. Julia moans, keening deep in her throat. Even pinned up against the wall, she bucks against me, urgent. Her need is driving me on. Fuck.
“Hold on,” she gasps, and gets me to let her down for a second. Fishing around on the floor, she comes back up. There’s the sound of crinkling plastic.
Are those . . . glow-in-the-dark condoms?
“Bachelorette party. Waste not, want not,” she breathes, then kisses me again, moaning when my tongue thrusts into her mouth.
She tugs at my shirt; fuck it. I pull it over my head, discarding it onto the dark floor. I’m blind in here, and there’s only Julia’s hands questing over my chest, trailing down my torso. She kisses my neck, flicks her tongue across my nipple.
Jesus. It’s taking all my considerable will power not to fuck her right now.
I put my hand between her legs, feel how damp her panties are. While she gasps, I yank them down, so hard I’m sure it’s a miracle I don’t fucking tear them. I play with her a moment, circling my fingers around the swollen bud of her clit, earning a hard moan. But I don’t touch her yet—not full on, at least. I drag those fingers up and down the seam of her pussy until they’re soaked with her juices, once, twice, enough times to have her gasping in my ear and going mad against me.
Then I edge my fingers inside her, and try not to groan.
God, she’s so wet. And tight. Her cunt hugs my fingers like she’s claiming them. But I have other things in mind, and start pumping. Slow at first, then harder, my thumb settling in the neighborhood of her clit and doing all I can to drive her anywhere as nuts as she’s driven me.
Her arms go around my neck. “I’m going to come,” she gasps. “Oh God.” She grinds against my hand, her whimpers gaining volume, her pussy tightening around me.