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"What are you doing here?"
"Just enjoying a girls' night. So how's the weather tonight? If I had known it would rain, I would have let you take my umbrella to work," I jest, loving it when his eyes get dark.
"You saw?"
I shift, the ache between my legs growing as I remember how he had moved when the water started to rain down on them. "Oh, yeah."
"And?" he continues his questions, body taut and tense. He's bracing. I hate his ex even more for putting the thought in his head that no one would accept something he clearly loves to do.
"I think, next time, you should take a little more off. It's not fair to just tease everyone with unbuttoning your shirt, sugar lips."
"Nikki," he growls.
"Cross that one off too?"
He doesn't answer; instead, he steps the last couple of feet between us and pulls me to my feet. Even with the tension radiating off him, his touch is gentle.
"The crowd ate that up, Shane. It was so hot seeing you move like that, knowing that your body is mine and not theirs."
Another animalistic groan comes rumbling from his lips. He doesn't speak, so I weigh my words and continue.
"In fact, I think you need to step up the game here. Make that little extreme show something you guys only do on a feature theme night." I tap my chin, trying to come up with a witty name. The second it hits, I feel giddy. "Filthy," I murmur.
"What?" he asks, some of the harshness in his body receding and flowing from his tenseness as he continues to run his hands over my body.
"Dirty Dog gets Filthy."
I see the confusion.
"I've been here when you guys just dance, but tonight, both you and Nate let loose and just had fun. It wasn't hard to see you and think of what you looked like when you were stripping. I'm not saying go buy a bunch of banana hammocks and start doing it again, but who's to say you can't marry both worlds and give those thirsty women one night when Dirty Dog is Filthy Dog."
"You have no idea what you're talking about," he hedges, but I can see my idea has already taken root.
"I don't?" I ask, taking his hand and lifting my dress up until my panties are bared. His nostrils flare, but he lets me continue to manipulate his arm. I press his palm against my thigh, smiling to myself when he has to bend to make up the height difference. Still, he lets me play. I drag his hand up until he's cupping my sex. My soaking wet sex. "I think I know exactly what I'm talking about. Dance for me, Shane. Give me your filthy."
And he does just that; the only thing louder than my screams is the music still blaring in the club below us. That night, I learn just how much fun it can be to get dirty.
"DID EMBER TELL YOU WHAT time they would be ready for dinner?" Shane asks, walking out of his closet while tying his black tie. I lick my lips. When I don't answer, he looks up from his task. "Really?"
"What?"
"I'm tying my tie, mon belle."
That phrase has joined his growing list of French endearments. My beautiful. That one started a few days ago, about a week after I made him make me filthy. It doesn't come often, as he still favors hummingbird, but I soak it up each time he croons those two words in my direction.
"It's hot." I shrug. What does he expect from me? Two nights ago,
he used the tie he had been wearing at work to tie my hands together and take me hard against his kitchen table. I'll never look at a tie the same again.
"Fucking cute," he mutters under his breath, turning and looking at the mirror behind his bedroom door to finish. "What time are we meeting them?"
I pick my phone up off the bed and smooth the deep purple lace of my dress. "In about an hour? She said her mom was picking up Quinnie at six, and they would meet us at the restaurant no later than seven. Our reservation is for fifteen after."
He nods, giving a little jiggle to the knot he just tied until it did whatever he wanted. Turning, he walks over to the edge of the bed, bends over, and takes my mouth in a deep kiss. When he pulls away and just looks into my eyes, I squirm under his attention.
"What?"
"Liberty is excited to meet you," he answers.
"I'm excited to meet her."
"Though, if she calls me nonstop the next time I've got my cock deep inside you, there won't be family dinners for a long fucking time."
I giggle as last night comes back in a rush of embarrassing hilarity.
"It's not funny, cherie."
"It's so funny, handsome."
"You didn't think so last night when I stopped fucking you," he returns with a brow high.
I smack his arm playfully. "You answered the phone!" I laugh. "You just pushed in deep, left me tied to your bed, and took a call from your baby sister."
He groans and drops his forehead to my chest. "I had to, Nik. She wouldn't have fucking stopped calling until I did. It was easier to get her off the phone quickly by letting her know I wasn't on the side of the road somewhere and pretending I didn't have your wet pussy hugging my cock so tight it was pure torture not to move when I talked to her."
"Maybe we should have a nice talk with her about calling hours," I joke, not even the tiniest bit serious. Seeing him awkwardly tell his sister he couldn't talk only to get tricked into a makeshift family dinner so she could see Nate and Ember and meet her brother's new girlfriend was priceless. He would have agreed to anything to end that call.
