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“Yes?” I turn around.
“Beginner’s luck.” Robyn smiles and lifts the box out of my hands. “You have a request. He’s sitting in the left corner. Blue chaise.”
“Already?”
“Get over there.” She pushes me forward and I nearly lose my balance.
The smoke in the room is noticeably thicker, and the lights are now a dull red. Other girls are grinding against clients, and the man of the hour—the groom to be, is now onstage receiving a lap dance for all to see.
As I make my way to the corner, a few of the men slip dollar bills into my garter—drunkenly telling me how “hot” I look.
When I finally make it to the corner, I don’t see anyone sitting there. I walk over to the adjacent corner chaise—thinking that maybe Robyn meant “right,” but there’s no one there either.
I smile and consider myself lucky because I want to put my routine off for as long as possible, but I suddenly feel someone grab my hand. It’s strong and warm—definitely male, and it’s pulling me towards the first corner, towards the empty chaise.
The stranger lets my hand go and slowly turns around, rendering me fucking speechless with that heart-stopping smile.
Carter?
Images of his sweaty chest at the gas station cross my mind, but he looks sexier in this moment than he did on that day. He’s wearing a simple white V-neck shirt and jeans, and his hair still looks as if he simply slips out of bed without combing it.
He leans back in the chair and raises his eyebrow, but I simply stand there.
“Are you going to dance for me, Raven?” he asks, letting a smirk form on his lips.
“Are you going to pay me?”
“Of course.” He clearly thinks this is funny. “Double.”
I briefly shut my eyes and pretend like I’m in practice again. Tuning out the rest of the room, I look directly into his eyes and move my hips to the slow song that’s playing over the speakers, running my tongue over my bottom lip.
I step in between his legs and slowly pull my dress over my head—wondering why his eyes aren’t roaming over my body. I run my hands down my sides and up to my breasts, squeezing them as I bite my lip, but his heated gaze remains locked on my eyes.
Confused, I lower myself into his lap and straddle him. I’m expecting him to say “Oh yeah...” or “That’s it...” like the other men I’ve watched this week, but he says nothing.
“Do you like this?” I whisper.
No answer.
I feel his dick hardening beneath me and hold back a gasp. I don’t have to look down to know that he’s huge; I slide my right hand between us, running it against his thickness—wishing his pants weren’t in the way.
His eyes still haven’t lost contact with mine, so I stop my half-hand job and start grinding my body against his, feeling his dick swell even more.
Jesus...
I lean forward and whisper against his lips since I can’t bring myself to look away from his face. “How badly do you want to fuck me?”
His lips curve into a smile, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he slips his arms around my waist and runs his hands against my bare sides.
My breath catches in my throat as he presses his fingers into my skin, as they find their way to the back of my bra. He whispers something I can’t comprehend and slides his thumb across the clasp, using his other hand to grip my hip and hold me still.
As good as his touch feels, I don’t want anyone else in the room to get the wrong idea, so I grab his hands and move them away.
I reach behind my back, ready to unsnap the bra myself, but he lifts me out of his lap and stands.
He pulls a few fifty dollar bills out of his pocket and tucks them underneath my right bra strap.
“Thank you very much, Raven.” He looks me up and down before walking away.
What the fuck?!
I stand still for a few seconds, trying to process what the hell just happened. Confused, I turn around to see where he’s headed. Before I can go after him, Robyn steps in front of me.
“That was pretty good.” She laughs. “You just got another request. Polka dot chaise across the room.”
“I wasn’t finished with the guy I just danced for. I need to ask him why he got up before I was done.”
“Excuse me?”
“I wasn’t finished with the last guy. I need to ask him a question.”
“Did he look like he enjoyed it?” She crosses her arms.
“I think so.”
“Did he pay you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you’re finished. Polka dot chaise. Across the room. Now.”
I don’t argue. I leave my dress on the floor and walk over to my new client, trying not to let any disappointment show on my face.
