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“I’m your boss so I will be the best judge of talent. Plus, I also own a strip joint, so you can audition for me.”
I lick my lips. I was joking, but he doesn’t need to know that. This will be a good distraction from the night I’ve just had. I also have to keep my options open, after all. And truth be told, I did look into classes about a year ago, but a lot has changed since then.
“I want lessons, not to audition,” I correct him.
“I’ll tell you if you’re any good.” He smirks, then taps his lap. “Show me what you got.”
“Each piece of clothing I remove, I get a handbag,” I negotiate, only willing to do this if I can make it worth my while.
His smirk becomes bigger. “Deal,” he agrees, then taps his legs again.
“Hands to yourself. Touching will require higher payment,” I warn him. “One you aren’t ready for.”
“And what payment would that be?” he asks, and I grin.
“This club.”
His smirk drops and he nods once. “No touching.”
“Done.” I reach for my phone and turn on some music, and thankfully something nice comes on. I sway my hips as I approach him, then turn around and bend over in front of him as I undo the straps of my heels. I hear his breathing pick up just a notch as I remove one and go for the other. The sound sends a satisfying thrill through me. When I’m upright again, I turn around ever so slowly to find him watching me intently and it makes my stomach flip.
Grayson usually looks through you, but right now he sees all of me.
Even fully clothed.
I don’t know if I like how it’s making me feel; the intensity of his stare.
The music fills the room, and I gyrate my hips, coming closer to him and then hovering over his lap. I lock eyes with him and ask, “Is it okay so far?”
“Yes.” Only one word, but it holds so much.
Reaching for the straps of my dress, I pull them down. I make sure to face him so he can’t see my back.
No touching. He isn’t allowed to touch me.
I have to remind myself of that. Because the longer his eyes stay on me like this, the more I want to change that rule.
Letting the dress fall to the floor, I climb onto his lap, so his cock is between my legs. My toes barely touch the floor as I really start to move, grinding on him as I do.
“Avani.” He says my name as a warning, but I’m already lost to the feeling of his body beneath mine.
I shouldn’t have done this.
It was my mistake.
But now I can’t seem to help myself. My hips move faster, and I slide a hand into my bra, rolling my nipple between my thumb and finger as I ride him through his incredibly expensive pants, which are probably wet from how turned on I am.
“Let me touch you,” he says, and I shake my head no. “Avani.” My hips keep rocking, the friction so fucking good that I can’t stop.
Fuck, it’s been a while since a man has touched me down there.
I squeeze my nipple, and I feel his breath inches from it.
“Let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice like gravel.
My hand moves from my breast to my hair, pulling at it as I arch my chest closer to him. “Just my tits, nowhere else,” I tell him almost breathlessly.
His mouth instantly covers my nipple, and he sucks on the peach colored flesh before he rolls it between his teeth and then bites. I moan at the sting of pain and grind harder without thought. His hand raises and cups my other breast, squeezing it hard.
