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ChapterThree
I manage to get through my first dance of the night with no incident and by the time I take the stage for the second time, I have almost completely forgotten about everything that happened the night before. Almost.
As “Sail” by Awolnation, starts thumping from the speakers, I cross the stage in slow strides, my movements matching the music. Dropping into a straddle on the floor, I lean forward and lay my torso across the smooth marble.
I love dancing to this song. And even more, I love my outfit for the night. Black lace boy shorts and a polka dot cami that is practically see through but not quite. Partnered with black heels and a black Fedora, I feel sexy. I feel powerful. It gives me a taste of what these men probably feel everyday. Like I can control the world. Pushing my legs together and laying them flat behind me, I push up into a plank position before spinning into a back bend and slowly kicking myself over.
Grabbing the pole directly in front of me, I grip the smooth metal and climb about two feet with my hands before wrapping one leg around it and doing a half spin, my other leg stretched out to the side giving everyone in the audience a perfect view of my inner thigh.
After a few more seconds, I lower myself from the pole, tipping my fedora hat down so that the majority of my face is covered in shadows as I make my way to a chair sitting at the end of the catwalk. It isn't until I spin the chair towards me and straddle the seat, that my eyes land on the one person I didn't expect to see again. Bentley Reed.
He's sitting at the table that sits just a foot from the end of the catwalk. His eyes are dark and he slowly bites down on his lower lip like he is physically trying to restrain himself. Feeling empowered by the clear effect I have on him, I slide down the seat of the chair, spinning around so that my ass is right in his line of sight. Lowering myself into a split, I look in his direction as seductively as I can muster before twisting my body back around and pushing up into a handstand, my legs still completely spread apart.
As the song winds down, I straighten my legs into a full handstand and push myself forward into a front walkover and then immediately drop to my knees directly in front of Mr. Reed. Once again pulling my hat down as the last beat of the song pounds from the speakers and the lights go black.
My breathing is ragged and I can feel the beads of sweat forming at my nape as I quickly stand and exit the stage, not looking back in his direction again. The minute I step into the lights of the back room, regret hits me full force. What the hell was I thinking just then? Did Josh see that little display? But before I have another second to even think about it, I hear someone approaching from behind and quickly spin around to see Mr. Reed closing in on me.
Gripping my forearm, he pulls me along side him, back out into the main room of the club before veering left and leading me down the dim hall that leads to the private rooms. I don't have time to protest. Hell, I don't even have time to think, as he opens the door to the last room on the right and pulls me inside with him. The click of the latch causing me to jump slightly.
At first, I think he's going to say something, do something, anything. Instead, he stares at me for a long second before turning around and walking the distance of the small room, making a selection on the digital screen on the side wall that controls the music, before taking a seat on the red bean shaped couch that sits along the far wall.
Immediately the silence fades away and a slow seductive beat I don't recognize fills the space. I don't know how long I stand there not able to move, not able to think. Seconds? Minutes? All I know is that when his lips part on his words, my insides literally melt. I didn't know it was possible to physically want someone so badly, but something about this man has me wanting to do all kinds of things to him that I know I shouldn't.
“Dance for me.” He says, hitching his finger, gesturing for me to come to him. As if my body is being controlled by his voice alone, I slowly cross the space until I am standing directly in front of him. There is something so wrong about this and yet, it feels so right. So exciting.
If you would have asked me an hour ago if I knew what I would do in this situation, I probably wouldn't have had an answer, but somehow my body seems to know exactly what to do. Pulling off my fedora, I toss it across the room before running my fingers through my long hair, noticing immediately how hyper sensitive my skin feels as the strands brush against my shoulders and back.
I hear his breath hitch when I turn around and lower myself into his lap. Grinding my backside against him, I can feel how hard he is through the fabric of his pants. A dead giveaway that whatever I am doing, it's clearly working for him.
Gaining even more confidence, I turn back around and straddle his lap, not minding one bit when his hands go to my hips. Normally I would never let someone touch me like this here, but with him, it feels different somehow. I don't feel like a dancer doing something forbidden with a client. I feel like a woman, doing something thrilling with a man that seems to want me as much as I want him.
Grinding my body against his lap, I can feel the dampness inside of my panties as my arousal takes hold at the forefront of everything else. Dropping my face to the crook of his neck, I run my tongue along his skin, immediately loving the way he tastes. I trail it up to his jawline and then moan so softly in his ear, it's more of a purr than an actual moan.
His hands tighten on my hips, gripping me so tightly that it's borderline painful and yet, makes it that much more thrilling at the same time. I am no stranger to the art of seduction. I am not embarrassed or self conscious when it comes to sex. To me, it's natural. It comes easily. I'm not ashamed or afraid. Sex to me, is like dancing. It's thrilling. It's freeing. It's exhilarating.
As the song begins winding down, I slowly peel my body from his, nipping at his earlobe before pushing into a full stand in front of him. Even in the dim lights, I can see how much I have affected him and that thought alone makes me want to repeat the process all over again, only this time without the barrier of clothing.
“You're incredible.” He rasps, his breathing coming out uneven as the silence, once again surrounds us.
“So I've been told.” I say, finding a confidence I don't usually display in front of clients, or my boss for that matter. Maybe the way I am acting is purely a result of being in the company of the man in front of me.
I consider turning around and walking right out of the room without another word, but his eyes hold me in place, as if somehow controlling my very movements, or maybe even my thoughts. Within seconds, another song fills the room, this one even slower than the first. A stripped down, acoustic version of “Heartless” by Kanye West.
Reaching out, he takes my hand and pulls me closer to him. Without really thinking, my hips begin swaying in time with the music. “You're breaking the rules.” I say playfully, leaning forward and securing my hand on the back of the couch to hold myself in a position where I am practically laying on him but not touching him at the same time.
“Is that so?” He breathes, his eyes not leaving mine as I trail my hand across the side of his face, down his neck, across his shoulder and down his bicep, as my body sways above him.
“One dance.” I say. “You only get one dance in a private.”
“Perks of being the owner I guess.” He says, pulling my hand from the back of the couch, causing my body to collapse down on top of him, my chest resting against his, our faces just inches apart.
The movement causes me to falter for a moment as I get lost in the feeling of his body against mine, his scent swimming around me. Honestly, this man is so intoxicating I feel like I have had several drinks when I haven't had a drop of anything.
“Abusing your power.” I breathe, tensing when he leans in closer.
“Never.” He breathes against my lips before pulling away again. Needing to put a little distance between my face and his, afraid that any minute I might have a brain malfunction and actually close the gap between us, I hitch my leg across his and once again straddle his lap.
Settling down on him, I pull my knees up and rest my elbows on them, temporarily halting all my movements. “So tell me something.” I say, smiling when his lips turn up in grin and two adorable dimples make an appearance.
