Slipping a few bills off his stack on the rail, he handed them over. “Gin and tonic, then whatever she likes.”
The waitress gave me a look; she knew I was one of the dancers who didn’t drink on the job. Alcohol made it too easy to make dumb mistakes… or to let men get away with more than they should. “Tequila sunrise,” I said, hoping she’d get the hint and bring me a virgin drink.
It only took a few seconds for her to get our order, hand it over, and then Jack and I were back to our little corner of the stage—alone as you could be in a busy club.
“Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass on mine. I took a small sip; definitely alcohol. “So, what were we talking about?” he asked playfully.
I set the tequila sunrise on the stage, then I rose up, perching next to him so that my chest was inches from his face. “I think we were discussing how you should talk less during my stage set.”
His lips pulled to the side. With patience, he took a slow sip from the glass, then put it out of reach. “Fine. I’ll sit here all pretty and let you do your thing. I was enjoying it, anyway.”
The music went all bass, the rich, textured rhythm mirroring my heartbeat. Jack was disarmingly charismatic. That definitely explained a lot of my drive to get closer to him. Of course… as I brushed my fingers over his jacket, pulling it open further, I got a good look at some parts of him that certainly didn’t hurt his likability.
Jack’s shoulders were like multiple lush valleys; lines of muscle covered in black and green tattoos. Before I could shut myself down, I traced my finger-pads over his skin. It was warm, mostly smooth with the occasional interesting ridge of a scar here or there.
My hair hung around us, creating a shield from the world. It did nothing to muffle his sharp intake of air, then the following low, hot groan. I locked up; he looked up at me and whispered, “Oh no, baby girl, don’t stop there. I’ve wanted to feel your hands on me for longer than I’ve had any right to.”
The DJ’s voice boomed overhead. “Thank you, gentlemen! Get ready for the next round of beautiful ladies… Frangelico, Lulu, and Sensual!”
“My set is finished,” I said, breathing heavily.
“I’m not.” He sat up, looking around the room. His attention narrowed in on the far staircase. “Let’s go have a private dance.”
It was good that he pulled me off the stage; I wasn’t confident I could follow him without losing my balance. Were we really going to do this? Could I be alone with him and behave myself?
Did I want to?
As we climbed the steps, we rose high enough that the second floor balcony came into view. Across the way, I caught someone watching us. Callum was smoking, the thick curls half covering his face like some shifting mask.
Making me work here was his way of controlling me, but deep down, he clearly hated seeing me with other men. I didn’t do many private dances; was he wondering how rich Jack had to be to lure me away?
One final push of smoke through his thick lips… and my boss strolled away from the edge.
Jack had stopped yanking me up the stairs. He was staring in the same direction I had been.
Is he wondering who Mister Big is?
Quick as a whip he glanced down at me, frowned, and then we were off again.
Reaching the top floor, Jack thumbed a stack of cash over to the man standing by the private booths. The rooms were curtained off, allowing for the people who used them to get up to all sorts of trouble. Jack had paid enough that the guard purposefully walked away.
No one was going to bother us.
“In,” he said, the word more of a guttural sound than any sort of English language. I did as he asked. The heavy curtain fell around us, the black light on the wall above the single, over-stuffed chair making our eyes and teeth blue.
Shrugging out of his jacket, he dropped into the seat. His knees spread wide, hands resting on the arms like a king on a throne. His demeanor demanded I come forward—come to him—without having to say it out loud.
Just do your job. Clinging to that, I reached behind me as I sought out the soft beat of the music. It was quieter in here, but it still existed. I rode on the waves as I danced in place. Jack watched me like he had at the stage.
Like he had last night.
I had the oddest feeling he’d always been watching me.
My top fell from my grip, the gold glitter sparkling where it landed on the floor. Stepping over it, I kept my palms over my breasts. Jack hadn’t seen me naked yet. The private dances lasted fifteen minutes, I could do what I always did; strip tease until the very end. The customers hated that—they expected physical contact for their hundred dollars—but I’d never cared.
But now… the idea of not filling the empty air with Jack’s body was depressing. I wanted to touch him, to be touched, so why was I hesitating?
He shifted on the chair. “Fuck, you’re turning me on like mad. Come here.”
I peered at him through my lowered eyelashes. “Ask me nicely.”
“You want me to beg?” he chuckled. Then he spread his legs further, showing off his massive erection. Palming it, Jack hissed through his teeth. “Look at this. Isn’t it obvious I’m dying without you? I won’t bite, not much.”
My tongue ran over my bottom lip. “And if I ask you to bite?”
His eyes locked on me, his jaw falling open. Then he smirked so sharply I felt it cut through the last of my resistance. “You’re something else. Something special, for sure. Get over here.”
It took so few steps on my too-tall shoes to reach him. I swung a leg over, straddling his thighs. Between us, his cock was hard as stone. I gasped; he moaned, eyes rolling back at the gentle pressure of my weight on him.
One of his arms moved behind me, stroking along my naked back. On impulse I bent forward, thrusting my breasts into his face. He grabbed my hair, holding me there, looking from my cleavage to my eyes. “It’s taking all I’ve got not to lick these perfect nipples.”
My tongue was stuck to my teeth; I made it work. “You can’t.”
“No?” he asked softly. His other hand slid onto my hip, guiding me over his hard-on as he rolled his pelvis. I whimpered at the sensation of his firm cock bumping my pussy over and over. I didn’t give lap dances like this—not to anyone.
Jack squeezed my ass, forcing me to rock faster along his erection. The thin strip of cotton over my pussy might as well have been a figment of my imagination. It did nothing to protect me from the pressure of his denim on my swelling clit. Had I ever been so turned on?
“I don’t have sex with customers,” I said quickly, like I was trying to talk myself out of a bad decision.
His smile was thin. “I’m not a customer.”
“Coming here to buy lap dances makes you a customer.”
“That’s not why I came here.”