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“How did I snare you, Bella?” I cock a brow, glancing down at my dick. “Remember you told me not to mention another woman—”
“Another bitch, I said verbatim, not to mentionanother bitchin my presence.”
Laughing, I catch her flyaway hands and hook her beneath me. I press my lips over the angry furrow of her brow. “Back to you, Gina, and all this ass. I’m not saying erotic dancing is all about ass or isn’t about ass at all. Erotic dancing is a mindset. Fulfilling a fantasy. Knowing someone’s deepest, darkest, filthy fetish while staring into their eyes.”
Her mouth is agape, gorgeous brown eyes in a trance while I continue to glide my palm along her hip. I wink. “See, Gina. I didn’t even move. I read your mind. You want me to fuck you now.”
The spell breaks as Gina hisses, turning her head away from me. “Fuck you, Santino.”
Straddling her, I trap a few of her tresses between my fingers and place them behind her ears. When I look Gina deep into the eye, licking my lips, the pulse along her neck accelerates. While I’m transfixed on Gina, the only emotion registering on her face is carnal craving.
“Bella, I can make you saythatwhile you’re fucking me.”
“What?” Mind void of all thought, she chews her lip. Flustered, Gina recalls how her last words were a curse to my name. “Oh, damn, I hate you.”
God, she’s so tempting to screw with. Intrigued, settle onto my haunches to get an unimpeded view of her entire body. Eyeing me suspiciously, Gina scoots up into a seated position against the headboard.
I order, “Take a deep breath.”
She snorts.
I rest my hand on her thigh, thumb relishing the smooth skin. “You asked for a lesson, Gina. Inhale, exhale for Daddy.”
Her pink tongue dips out, gliding along her bottom lip. After a moment, she puckers her pillow lips and exhales a long stream of air, then pulls it in.
“Imagine yourself fully naked, Bella, while you’re giving that Grinchy—”
“The Grinch.”
“C’mon, Bella, play on words. Get focused, or you won’t get a single tip on your first attempt as a stripper. Actually,” I gesture toward the foot of the bed, then gaze into her eyes. “Stand.”
She’s up, on the balls of her feet, before a watercolor painting on the wall. Her eagerness will be rewarded later. Hiding a grin, I say, “Widen your legs, Gina. Now, step your left foot back. Bend your right knee at a 90-degree angle.”
Gina’s eyes never leave mine as she lengthens her body, following through with the order.
“Reach your arms overhead . . .”
Realization dawns around Gina, and her body flushes. She reaches down to grab a decorative pillow and throws it at me. “That’s ‘warrior one,’ a yoga pose, asshole!”
Laughing, I reprimand her. “Did you have to throw the décor at me, Bella? You know this shit is dirty.”
While straddling me again, Gina’s body presses against me. Her skin is so smooth and soft along mine. I’ll remember this moment for other reasons. I frame her face in my hands, noticing the furrow in her brow. After Christmas, I’ll be sitting in prison and treasuring every moment I had with Gina. The good and the bad.
“Santino . . .” Gina’s voice strains.
“I love to fuck you, Gina, but your laughter is something I could get addicted to.”
She scrutinizes me curiously. “What about the rest of our lives?”
I doubt she’s aware how real this is.
“Hey, I should apologize.” She chews her bottom lip.
“For what? My job or the assistant who came down to the lobby?”
“Assistant? What? I’m apologizing for Gabriella.”
Oh, that bitch. I clear my throat, determined the shift in conversation isn’t something I need to remember. “That’s okay. Hopefully, your sister will learn that material things . . . are we discussing two different topics?”
