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She’s still wearing white. She skipped the dress, though. And sadly, the wings are gone. She’s exchanged the plain white bikini for one in rhinestones. Her hair still glistens, falling in waves all around her, and she still has that damn mask on. She kept the white stilettos, though, and I’m thankful for that.
She stops walking when she sees me. I know she watched me walk toward the stage. Lately it seems all the women are running away from me – at least all the women I want. That’s definitely something new. I don’t mind doing a little chasing, however, especially if the reward is as sweet as the promise.
“Hey there.”
She adjusts her mask and nods, not responding. Guess my Angel is going to be the silent type. Normally I like it when women don’t talk, it gives them less of a chance to whine. But I’m missing her voice. I want to know what she sounds like.
Preferably when she’s crying out my name as I ride her body hard and fast.
Just the thought of that has my cock pushing against my jeans, desperate to be free.
She stops by the small booth at the end of the sofa and turns the music up another notch or two. I liked it better before, but since she’s not going to talk, there’s no reason to argue. She grabs hold of the pole in front of me, sliding against it like a lover, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m jealous. She turns with ease, spinning on the pole, her long legs calling to me. I want them wrapped around me. I want to grab her ass in my hands and spank it. Christ Almighty, if this keeps up, I’m going to come in my pants in the back of a damn strip joint. I sure as hell never saw that coming. If she keeps popping that ass out and shaking it so close to me, I’m going to spank her. I’d love to see my handprint on it.
I clear my throat, because fuck, I’m hornier than I can ever remember being.
“You going to come over here and give me what I paid for?”
She freezes and glances at me from over her shoulder. With her mask, I can’t tell, but I’m sure she’s frowning at me, or worse.
“Impatient,” she breathes, her voice breathless, and totally fake. She’s disguising it and talking so low I can barely hear her.
“Only when I want something really bad,” I tell her, flashing her a wicked grin. “And trust me, Angel. I want you really bad.”
She stops, her body locking into place and I swear I can almost smell her fear from here. That shouldn’t turn me on. It really shouldn’t. But, fuck it does.
Then, Angel makes a fatal mistake. Her hand goes up to push some of her thick hair behind her ear. It’s a familiar move. A move I’ve seen from another woman that I’ve wanted – another woman that makes my cock so hard it hurts.
And that’s when everything snaps into place.
Angel and I are about to have a lot of fun together.
And she doesn’t even know it.12VioletI’m not sure I’m going to survive this. I feel like a nice juicy antelope that a lion has in his view and is getting ready to devour – that’s exactly what Mike looks like. I drop to my hands and knees. Maybe if I can distract him well enough, I can get out of here before he figures out who I am. I lock gazes with him, ignoring how strange and nervous that makes me feel. He’s totally relaxed in his seat, but he’s not fooling me. He’s ready to pounce. I have to walk this line very carefully. I also can’t afford to get turned on, and I kind of am. I could tell myself that a man who looks like Mike Huntington just looks at you and you’re bound to get excited, but that’s not it. The truth is, I’m attracted to the asshole, even when I know I shouldn’t be.
I stop advancing toward him when there’s about two feet between us. I’ve purposely set the music loud and the lights low. I’m hoping this plays to my advantage since the lights in here are shit anyway. I turn, popping my ass up in the air, rocking it to tease him. I know my ass is one of my better features. I have more than my share of tits and ass, and using those assets have kept a roof over my head. I roll over so I’m sitting, watching him, slapping my feet against the floor, thrusting my hips up, before going back down and pointing my legs up in the air. I slowly bring them back down spreading them into a split, perfectly aligned. When I go back to my hands and knees, I crawl up his body, moving his legs apart. I watch his eyes as I crawl between his legs. I can see the hunger in his eyes.
