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I wagged a finger in his face, my mouth moving into a teasing moue.“Don’t you know the rules?No hands on the girls.”
That shot his brows up high, and I was gratified to have done the disarming that time.“How can I help you, then?” he asked, serious tone turned playful.
“I’m disappointed.I thought you’d have more imagination.”
That caught his attention, his eyes going wild in a way that made my knees feel a little more wobbly than they had just a moment before.
“My teeth, then?” he asked, his tone almost polite now.
“Your teeth,” I agreed.
“At your service,” his voice rumbled along my skin, his head already lowered to the task.
I couldn’t quite hold back an involuntary shiver as he slowly bit the string on the end of the neat little bow and pulled.I felt his breath puff against my skin for one, two, three beats before he raised his head, the prize of my tiny skirt still clenched between his teeth.He released it with a sharp grin, his eyes going to my minuscule G-string.“Now let me help you with that one.”
I bit my lip to hide my smile, though usually those types of comments had me rolling my eyes or calling security, depending on the tone.
“This one stays on,” I replied, voice just loud enough to carry over the music.
“For now,” he had to add.
Turning, I grabbed the pole high with one hand, hooked my platform stiletto on it, and sent myself swinging.
I was in the mood to show off, thanks to Mr. Bossy, and I did.
I flipped my long, pale turquoise blue hair, climbed up to the top of the pole, and set myself to spinning down to the bottom.Round and round.Slowly, sinuously, I glided down to my knees.I kept my eyes on him as I repeated the maneuver, but slower this time.
I used all of my tricks, showing off for that sexy stranger, bringing my heels up high enough to touch the ceiling, then gliding down, pole between my tight, lean thighs.I circled, I twirled, I gyrated, I flipped upside down, my big breasts bouncing with each movement.My performances were always memorable, but that night, for that man, most of all.
I was out of breath and sweating when I finally left the stage, but one glance at the stranger let me know it’d been worth the work.
He was looking at me like he’d never wanted anything more in his life.
I wasn’t sure why that thrilled me so much, but it did.
I put on a slinky little dress and started working the room, handing out cocktails and cigarettes, smilingat the customers, but never lingering too long with any of them.
The things I’d learned about myself since I started working at Exhibitionist were enlightening.
First, I liked the place.The scent of cloying perfume and desperate desire were invigorating to me.The club could get sordid, and messy, but at least it usually made me feel alive.
Second, I liked dancing.Stripping.I enjoyed strange eyes devouring my every seductive move.I ate up the attention.
Turned out, being watched was a turn-on for me.
Hewas still there, settled into one of the corner VIP areas now, curtains left wide open, two girls all over him.I didn’t care for either of them.In this business, women were either your friends or your enemies.I tended toward the former with most of the girls on staff, but these two in particular were nasty pieces of work.
One was already grinding on his lap while the other rubbed his shoulders, crouching down to press her breasts into his back while she said something into his ear.
Typical.
I did get a small but gratifying thrill that his eyes were on me all the while.
I tried to ignore him, but that lasted about five minutes before I got bored with the idea.With a sigh, I went to offer him a drink.
I ignored the girls glaring at me, strode close, and offered him a smile.“Can I get you anything, boss?”
His austere face moved into a predatory smile.“I’ll take a private dance in one of the back rooms.”
