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“And you’re doing a stellar job,” I mutter, frowning as his hand falls away.
I don’t expect a reply to that, but Archer nods. “You’re right. I’m handling this badly. I’ll talk to him. Tonight.”
“Good.”
“And you, Sawyer? What do you really want?”
I wish I knew. Or rather, I know, but I wish it made sense. Now that Archer says they want me, I may have to rethink what I know.
But I’m saved from replying when Brinlee appears.
Whoa…
I almost swallow my own tongue as she climbs the steps and struts onto the stage, grabbing the pole with one hand and walking around it.
Seriously? Fuck me with a goddamn spork, she’s fucking hot…
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Roman breathes, sinking into the seat next to mine, rubbing at his chest. “This chick is full of surprises, isn’t she?”
“Yeah…”
She grins, lashes lowering, as she sways her hips and rubs herself on the pole. She licks it—or pretends to—and then slowly goes to her knees. Making love to that pole.
Damnit.
Shit.
It’s not that I didn’t find her hot before, don’t get me wrong. My hippy, book-loving girl was hot. Sexy as hell.
It’s just that this show is so in-your-face sexy. Holy shit… All I can think of climbing that stage and kissing her, pressing our bodies together as I grab her ass, pushing her to my hard dick, sharing pleasure…
“Fuck,” Roman grunts, shifting in his seat.
I shift, too, uncomfortably hard. Glancing at Archer and Kyrian, I find them seated on the other side of our table, ostensibly relaxed, leaning back in their chairs, but their eyes are fixed on Brinlee with a laser-sharp focus.
Gazing at the girl dancing with the pole, swinging herself on it, arching against it, caressing it, worshipping it, this doll-like girl who moves like a flame, red and black and sinuous, a fantasy made flesh.
The music is a solid beat, drumming inside my stomach, inside my head, hot and heavy. It drums inside my dick, each pulse making me dig my fingers harder into my thighs.
And then it’s over. It takes me a moment to realize the music has stopped, the beat still thrumming through my bones—and boner—and that Brinlee is done having sex with the dance pole.
I mean, dancing.
Yeah.
“Well,” Archer says as the clapping starts, “I’ve found my new favorite club.”
“Go, Baby Doll!” Roman yells and wolf-whistles.
“Not sure that’s allowed here,” Kyrian says. “Roman, cut it out.”
I don’t know if to clap or groan as she makes her way down from the stage.
I’m half out of my seat, not even sure what I’m doing, but she moves toward the tables on the other side of the stage. “Where is she going?”
“She’s going to do some lap dancing to get extra cash,” Roman says. “Someone waved at her from another table.”
“No…”
