She tries to disguise it, but I feel her tremor from my nearness. But I don’t believe for one second she’s ready to play nice.
“You don’t give a fuck about me either. You just want to fuck me.” She tries to shove me, but I wrap my hand around her wrist, then spin her, pressing her back against the door and pinning her with my hips.
Her lips press together, and her pupils grow when my hard cock presses against her stomach. “You and I both know if that’s all I wanted, it would’ve already happened.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I may be disgusting, but I’m fucking honest, and no one out there has the fucking right to look at you like this much less touch you.”
“First off, you don’t even know me.” Goosebumps pebble over her skin as I drag my knuckles over her shoulder. I feel her nipples harden, pressing against me behind the thin fabric separating us, but she does a good job suppressing her reaction and continuing with our argument. “Second, that’s neither your decision nor your business. Now let me go so I can work.”
My thumb brushes over her fluttering pulse as I breathe across her neck. “Not happening.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? Let me go.” But she doesn’t put forth any genuine effort to get me off of her. “That guy wants a private dance, and I’m not losing out on that money.”
“On what? A few hundred bucks?”
“For five minutes, Jagger.Five minutes!”
I wonder if she’s trying to piss me off. Or rather, make sure I stay pissed off. “You think he still wants a dance from you?”I scoff. “He just wants his mama to wipe his bloody nose and dry his bitch tears.”
“Ugh. You’re impossible! Let me go. With any luck, a few more will request a dance. That’s a lot of money that Ineed. Remember?”
My jaw works back and forth as I stare into her kaleidoscope eyes. A slow grin grips the corners of my lips, tugging them up. I continue stroking her neck, loving how her heart races. Her chest heaves with her anger and arousal.
Dipping my fingers into my back pocket again, I pull out my card and twist it between my fingers. I drag the plastic slowly up her stomach and between her breasts. Her breath hitches, causing her diamond peaks to brush against my chest. “You want to dance for someone?” I reach over and behind her, slapping my card against the reader again. “Then dance for me.”
“No.” Her eyes dance with desire, but her lips still lie.
The automatic lights dim, turning from a natural glow to pink-tinted, and music plays. Stepping back, I strip out of my jacket, tossing it in a corner, and take a seat on the sofa. I lean back, stretching my arms across the back of the sofa and spreading my thighs wide. “I’ve already paid, Halfpint. Now entertain me.”
Defiance lifts her chin, but she walks to the middle of the room. Her hand slowly runs over her perky tits down her body as she slowly rolls her hips. When a heavy beat drops, so does she, then grips her knees as they spread wide. In one fluid movement, she shifts into the splits and leans forward, her eyes on mine, and brings her legs behind her as she belly crawls across the floor toward me.
Turning over, she lifts her hips and spreads her knees, undulating her body in controlled waves. My eyes lift to the mirrored wall behind her, and the view makes my cock weep, watching her body work like a seductress tempting her unknowing victim. She taunts and teases, staying just out of reach, and I let her feel like she’s in control. Like this is her stage and her show, and I’m not just biding my time. Through every beat and lyric, she moves as if the music owns her, and when it hits the bridge, she comes over to me, rolling her body from the floor to between my knees with fluttering lashes and her plump lip tucked between her teeth in alluring innocence.
Her hands run over my thighs as she rises to her feet. She spins and lowers herself on my lap, using my knees as leverage to grind her ass against me. When my dick jumps beneath the confines of my jeans, she looks over her shoulder with a sexy, seductive smirk as if she’s won this game.
Except it’s just begun, and now she’s where I want her.
I let the false sense of security wrap itself around her, continuing her illusion of power through the rest of the song. When it ends and she tries to remove herself, my arm snakes around her waist.
“Where do you think you’re going, Halfpint?” I rumble against her neck.
“Your song is up.” She’s breathless, but I know it has nothing to do with the performance she just put on. The woman dances for a living. Five minutes is a warm-up.
No. This isn’t from exertion. It’s from arousal. Hot desire and desperate need.
“You just assume I only paid for one.” I run my hand down her thigh before gripping her right knee and hooking it over mine as I slide my other leg beneath hers, then force her quads to spread wide. The next song begins just as I trail my fingers to the inside, moving devastatingly slow until I reach her apex.
“J-Jager, wh-what are you doing?”
“I paid for ten dances, sweetheart, but I’d much rather do something else.”
She tenses, anger coiling her muscles as she struggles against me. “So you want me to be your whore? Is that it?”
I slip my hand from her waist, going between her breasts, and grip her face. Twisting her head, I force her to look at me, then press my lips to hers. It takes seconds before she relents, opening to me, and giving back everything I offer with lust-filled moans. “You can be my whore or my private dancer. The choice is yours,” I mumble against her mouth. “But you will earn every fucking penny I’m paying, and when we’re done, I want you to stay at my apartment. For the weekend.”
She pulls away, looking at me with wide eyes. “Wh-what?”
