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He tightens his hold on my hips and quickly slams me back down on top of him, making me let out another tiny whimper when I feel him between my legs again.
“Make sure you train her right,” Vincent speaks again. “I should have sent my son to you before he married that gold digger of his, let me tell you.”
His words break through the seductive, happy little bubble I’ve enclosed myself in, and I hear myself growl angrily against PJ’s ear as I begin to pull myself off his lap to give Vincent a piece of my mind.
PJ quickly wraps both of his arms completely around my body, holding me tightly against him and refusing to let me move. I can feel the strong, fast beat of his heart against my breasts, which are smashed into his chest, and I concentrate on that instead of throwing a punch at a man in his sixties in the middle of a strip club.
I close my eyes and keep my cheek pressed against PJ’s, rubbing it gently against his stubble, and feel the rumble in his chest as he speaks to Vincent, saying whatever he can to brush him off politely. With one arm still banded tightly around me, PJ softly runs the palm of his free hand up and down my spine. After being clenched so hard in preparation of launching myself off of his lap to scream at the man who just won’t shut up behind me, my muscles immediately loosen and my body sinks back down onto PJ’s lap. I escape right back into my happy little bubble when I feel how hard he still is, despite how annoying Vincent’s voice is. I completely block Vincent from my mind as my body starts moving against PJ again, all on its own, because my body knows a good thing when it feels it.
Vincent says something about calling PJ later this week, but I barely hear him. PJ doesn’t even answer him, he just slides his hands down my bare thighs and then back up to hold my hips, helping me move against him until I’ve completely forgotten everything that just happened and have no idea when, or how long ago, Vincent walked away. I’ve lost all concept of time, and I’ve turned into nothing but a big ball of pent-up sexual frustration who wants nothing more than to let the world disappear and just feel.
I hear the sexy beat of whatever song is being played for the current dancer on stage and everything else fades away. I forget that I’m in a public place and people are probably watching us, I forget about my friends, I forget about my former father-in-law, I forget about my problems, and I forget about never having what it takes to be a stripper. I listen to the music and I move to the beat. I breathe in the man whose lap I’m sitting on and forget that he killed my dreams just moments ago. I forget about everything but the way it feels to be pressed up against him, how empowering it is to know I turned him on and made him forget how to speak, and how long it’s been since I last had an orgasm.
The heat from his body radiates against my own flushed skin and despite that, I still break out in goosebumps when he turns his face into the side of my neck and I can feel his warm breath panting against me as I continue my slow, seductive dance on his lap.
My entire body is on fire and there’s a tingling between my legs I almost don’t recognize, since I can’t remember the last time I felt anything even closely resembling want and need. I thrust my hips harder and faster against PJ, chasing that feeling and never wanting it to end. He jerks against me, his own hips lifting up to meet mine, pressing himself harder between my legs as I continue to swivel and slide and move around in his lap to the beat of the music, wanting nothing more than the sweet oblivion of release. I want to feel the shiver that starts at my toes, works its way up my body and explodes between my thighs. I want to tear off his shirt and claw my nails down his back when I see stars and shout his name at the top of my lungs. I want to experience everything I’ve been missing out on my entire life that my ex never gave me, and that I’ve only read about in romance novels or seen in the pornography I purchased, which I may or may not have watched alone in the privacy of my own bedroom with the shades drawn and all the lights out before throwing the DVDs in the trash and pretending they’d never been in my home.
