“During the divorce and for a while after, she kept her head down, worked, took care of me and Charlie, and quietly completed her degree, changing her career focus from family therapy to sex therapy.” I trailed my fingers over his chest to his neck, and smiled. “Then she opened a practice in town, across the street from my father’s office.”
“Oh my God.”
“And then she proceeded to fuck every one of his friends.”
“Oh my God!” he said again, his eyes wide.
“Well, all those who were single. She’d never do to another woman what was done to her.”
“Very decent of her.” He nodded.
“She did all this publicly, too. I mean she did it all with class, as she does everything. But she never got exclusive. She dated a few men at a time, and rocked their worlds so thoroughly that no one believed my father’s pathetic claims anymore.”
“Good Lord.”
“And it was great advertising for her practice. She started those classes I told you about, and encouraged people to come to her not just when they were in crisis, but also when they just wanted to boost their sex life a bit.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Yeah, she’s pretty impressive. Anyway, the point of all that was to explain why she doesn’t have a problem with what I do. She wants me to be happy and as long as I am that is all that matters to her.”
“Are you happy?”
“More and more every day.” I smiled at him. “Hey, so…can I ask…how do you feel about my job?”
He sighed and flopped over onto his back, running a hand through his hair.
“As long as you’re happy…” he began.
“That’s not an answer,” I said, poking him in the chest.
“What? It works for your mother.”
“Come on.” I poked him some more.
“It’s complicated.” He captured my finger and pressed my palm flat to his chest.
“No, no. Don’t use that Facebook philosophy on me. Answer.”
“I think you’re very good at your job,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re an excellent performer and you infuse humor into your acts. I like that. And I very much enjoy watching you.” He raised my hand to his lips. “Your body is obscenely beautiful; you bewitch me.”
“That’s a pretty glowing endorsement.” I grinned at him, blushing at the compliment. “But that only tells me how you feel about me dancing for you. Not how you feel about the fact that other men are watching me.” I arched an eyebrow at him.
He turned towards me again and ran a hand up my thigh and over my hip, his eyes following the movement.
“I wondered how I’d feel about that myself,” he said. “That’s why I came to the club last night. I was hoping to sit in the back, unobserved. But we know how that worked out.”
“You weren’t going to tell me you were there?”
He shook his head. “No.” “But then that ass started mauling you and I couldn’t just sit by.”
“You didn’t call me all week,” I said. “You told me we’d talk later and then I didn’t hear from you.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. I thought I was giving you some space, some time alone with your mother. But I was giving myself some space too.”
“You needed space?”
“I did,” he said, his hand gliding down my waist and up to palm my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple lazily. “But it’s not what I need right now.”
“What do you need, then?”
“More of you,” he said, pulling me towards him for a kiss, his tongue stroking over my lips before darting past them to taste my mouth.
“You still haven’t answered the question,” I said when he released my lips. “About other men watching me dance, seeing me naked?”
His gaze held mine, a hint of something elusive dancing in his eyes.
“I feel,” he said, his hand traveling to my breast again, “aroused.”
“Aroused?” I asked. My eyes went wide. That was not the answer I was expecting at all.
“Yes.” He laughed. “I was surprised to discover it. The truth is, intellectually I didn’t like it at all. The entire experience awakened primal and territorial instincts in me. I wanted to pluck the eyes out of every man there. At the same time I was completely,” his head dipped to kiss my lips, “totally,” his lips coasted over my neck, pressing small kisses as he went, “firmly, aroused.” His hand found mine, and pulling it to his hips, he thrust himself into my palm, thick and impossibly hard.
“Oh God,” I moaned, my fingers curling around his length for one exquisite moment before he pulled my hand away again and held it in his.
“Dance, and let me watch you, let those men watch you, want you…but…” He bent to kiss me again, his tongue thrusting into my mouth fiercely, desperately, before moving his lips along my jaw to my ear and whispering, “only I get to have you.”
“That’s awfully demanding,” I said. “Possessive. We aren’t even an item.”
“Aren’t we?”
I gulped. “I don’t…”
“Yes you do,” he said, lowering his head, “We are inevitable.” His lips closed over my nipple, and he sucked hard, his tongue circling over the tip as his hands pushed my shoulders back to the bed.