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Bram appears, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, you two. This is a party!”
“Thank you. Now get your sexy ass on stage, Sebastian. You’re the only one who hasn’t given us a show tonight.”
“And I’ll continue to disappoint you.”
“Are you afraid?” Bee asks, and that decides it.
I hold her gaze as I stand. “Would you like a private show, Bee?”
Even in the dark of the club, her cheeks visibly darken.
“Be careful what you wish for.”
She nods, but I shake my head, capturing her chin and running my thumb across her lip. The response is instantaneous, her mouth opening deliciously. Thank fuck this will be private, because there’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to keep my hands off her, and I want every single reaction for myself.
“Use your words, angel.”
“Yes, I want it.”
I brush my lips against hers. A tease and a challenge.
“Follow me.”
Rochelle throws me a nod, letting me know that we’ll be left to our own devices. What happens here is our business alone, and I plan on making it a night to remember.
19
BEE
Sebastian leadsme through a door I hadn’t noticed and down a short hallway. The room we enter is dimly lit, but I can make out a couch and the same velvet curtains as in the club.
There’s a nondescript chair in the center of the room.
“Take a seat.”
My heart is racing so fast a DJ could use it for an EDM hit. I do as I’m told, pressing my palms to my legs to stop them from shaking.
“Hands behind your back. No touching until I say so.”
My pussy clenches at the command.
The song’s bass is thick enough to reverberate from the floor up, through my bones, an answering heartbeat much slower than my own. The lyrics are rich, sensual, syrupy.
Sebastian moves like honey, circling me, teasing his touch with a slow drag of his fingertips along my skin. Goose bumps chase after him and I squeeze my hands together.
When he rounds the chair, he moves in close, sliding ahand into my hair and tilting my head back. I moan as he drags his lips down my neck.
With a tight grip on my neck, he pulls back, rolling his hips over mine.
“I thought you didn’t dance anymore.”
His smile is dangerous.
He releases me, standing, and slowly starts undoing the buttons of his shirt, his eyes locked with mine. When he reaches the last one, he leaves his shirt open and slides his hands down my arms, tugging. With a gentle grip on my wrists, he guides them to his body and explores his chest with my hands. He is heat and muscle and sin.
“I don’t. This isn’t about putting on a show. It’s about you.”
“Me?”
