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Making snap decisions had never been my style, but Gage’s and Stuart’s words echoed through my mind. Don’t be so boring. Lighten up. You need some fun in your life.
Gritting my teeth, I gave her a curt nod, and she beamed. “Great. Come with me.”
Seated in a smaller version of the plush leather booth I’d been reclined in a moment ago, only without the table, I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt to give me something to do while I waited for whatever was coming next. Honey Rose had shown me into this small, mirrored room, with a booth on one side and a single chair in the centre. She’d then left me alone.
The dim, recessed lighting around the edges of the room winked out, and the sound of my rapid breathing filled the space.
Before I had a chance to process the sudden darkness, music began playing, a low, sultry beat. My head pounded. Fuck this. I wasn’t going to sit here in the dark, waiting for whatever it was.
I climbed to my feet and took a step towards where I knew the door to be.
“Wait.” A hand pressed against my chest. “Sit down.”
The voice was a smooth, distinctly masculine purr, and it sent a fucking shiver down my spine. I ignored it, threading steel through my tone. “What’s going on? If this is someone’s idea of a joke, it needs to stop right now. Turn the lights back on, this instant.”
The pressure on my chest increased, and caught off guard, I took an involuntary step back. “So demanding. Why don’t you relax? It seems like you need it.”
“What?” I hissed.
“You heard me.” The hand on my chest pushed again, and I allowed myself to be driven back into the booth. That voice…
“Good.” I felt a shift in the air and then a soft huff of breath against my ear. “There’s one rule you need to be aware of. One very important, unbreakable rule.” Another breath, and then the presence moved, enough to create some breathing room. “Remember it. No touching the dancers.”
At those words, the lights flicked back on, dimly illuminating the room.
My heart fucking stopped.
The man stared at me, those ice-blue eyes wide. Fuck, he was hot. A sexy-as-fuck man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties—my preferred age range—he’d caught my eye from the second he’d walked into my place of work. I’d noticed him looking at me, too. Those heated glances he was shooting me from beneath his thick lashes had been enough to make my dick throb, and only the knowledge that I was onstage and in full view of my employers kept me from reacting. He’d forced his gaze away from me for a moment before it inevitably returned. Then, when Honey Rose had pulled me aside and told me she’d also noticed his eyes on me, and he was waiting in one of the private dance rooms…I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.
Now, as I drank him in, I noticed his deep brown hair—short but the perfect length to run my hand through—and his strong jawline, dusted with dark stubble. The sleeves of his midnight-blue shirt were rolled up, exposing his powerful-looking arms and those delicious big fucking hands with long, capable fingers that I wanted— No. Never mind what I wanted. The glimpses of his body that his tight shirt and fitted black trousers were giving me spoke of someone who worked out, someone who could pin me down and have his way with me, someone who was packing?—
Fucking stop, JJ. You’re here to do a job.
Getting a hard-on at my place of work was not on my to-do list, and it was never usually a problem. In fact, I rarely even had a chance to do a private dance. This wasn’t a gay club, and it was generally the women who were requested for private dances. Having said that…since my boss, Austin, had allowed me to start dancing on the pole, my dance requests had increased somewhat, although they were usually out in the booths in the main area rather than in one of the private rooms. And no one that had requested me had ever been my type before. Not even close.
But this man…he was so my type. In every single way.
“You,” he ground out, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, making the tendons of his forearms stand out in sharp relief.
With a fast, fluid movement, I swung my thigh over his, straddling him without actually touching any part of his body. I ran a hand down my chest, sucking in a breath when I saw the way his pupils dilated as he followed the path of my hand. “I saw you watching me.”
His whole demeanour seemed to change at my words, his shock replaced by something else, a dark amusement that, fucking hell, made my dick stir despite all my warnings to myself. “For you to notice that, you must have been watching me.”
I rolled my hips down, enjoying his hitched breath. All I was wearing was a pair of tight gold booty shorts, and he would soon be aware of the effect he had on me, but I found I didn’t care. There were cameras in this room, but they were behind me, and as long as he remembered the rules and didn’t touch me, we wouldn’t be disturbed.
“You’re rather noticeable,” he murmured softly, almost under his breath, and I smiled. I knew and enjoyed the effect I had on men, but having someone like him notice me was incredibly flattering. Despite his tense posture and his obvious reluctance at being here—not just in this room with me but in the club in general—I’d stolen his attention. And I was greedy and selfish when it came to having the attention of a man I wanted, and so I was going to do everything in my power to make sure he remembered me long after tonight.
“Mmm. So are you.” I spun around on his lap, letting my head fall back against his shoulder as I arched my back, grinding my ass down. It took every single bit of my professionalism not to react to the feel of his swelling erection against me. I’d been right—he was packing. Fuck. Some of my friends liked to call me a size queen, and maybe that was true because the thought of this big dick pounding into me?—
Fuck. Professional. I was a fucking professional.
Planting my feet on the floor, I straightened up, sashaying away from him, and only when I was seated on the chair in the centre of the room did I dare to face him again. I closed my legs and then placed my hands on my knees, pulling my thighs apart, noticing how his dark gaze went straight to the bulge between my legs.
“Like what you see?” How my voice had managed to come out steady, I had no idea. I never even talked during dances, so this was already a new experience, and with the way this man was more or less incinerating me with his gaze… My cock hardened even further, reacting to the heat in his eyes.
He remained silent, but now he was clasping the edges of the booth seat, white-knuckling them as if it was the only thing stopping him from launching himself at me. Maybe it was. The thought of him losing control…
For the first time, I wished there were no cameras. Nothing to stop us from taking what we both clearly wanted.
