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Well, I brought my stilettos. Guess I’m a hopeful girl.
I turn around, squaring my shoulders, letting my own love of dancing drive me as I step out of the bathroom, then stand in the doorway, arm sliding up the frame, hip cocked out, lips pouty.
Eyes on him.
A slow, sultry song fills my small room, and with the lamp dimmed, it feels like a smoky lounge in here.
And I feel like a different version of me. I’m the me in Paris. The me who goes clubbing. The me who doggedly chases opportunities.
I’m not the girl who hurt her family.
I left her in New York.
Finn’s parked in a burgundy chair across the room, legs spread, one arm slung across the back. The other hand holds a tumbler of amber liquid. His gaze is powerful as it locks on mine, eyes a dark emerald, full lips a hard ruler. He lifts that glass of scotch, taking his time, assessing my body, his confident pose making it clear he’s in charge as he studies me in the doorway.
Then, he gives the barest of nods. He’s the high-end customer in my exotic dance club, I head to him, taking my sweet time. My hips sway from side to side, seductively teasing him with every step. His eyes travel up and down my body as he takes in my costume.
It’s simple. A short skirt, schoolgirl style, and a tight white blouse. But the gift he gave me peeks out, since I unbuttoned the top just enough to reveal the white lace demi-cup bra with red tulips embroidered on the cups. The panties are low-cut, and they match.
“Hey there, handsome,” I say as I reach him, stopping a foot away to leave some space, create some anticipation. “Can I interest you in a dance tonight?”
“Maybe,” he says, a little aloof. He lifts the tumbler and knocks some back before setting it down on the oak table next to the gift bag he’s had with him all night. He hasn’t opened it yet. My curiosity is piqued, but I push it aside when he asks, “What kind of dance?”
I finger the top of my blouse, giving him a peek at my cleavage. “The kind with rules.”
“Yeah? You think I like to play by the rules?” he asks, his tone brusque, his deep voice sending a spark through me.
I roam my gaze up and down him, the man who’s playing the part of the uncaring businessman out for a night at a gentlemen’s club. He’s good at pretend, but the vein in his neck pulses, giving him away and giving me my power. “I think you won’t let me walk away.”
I spin on my black heels, the stripper ready to leave.
“I’ll play by your rules,” he grumbles.
I whirl around, lean closer, and run a finger over the collar of his shirt. “I had a feeling you would.” I tap dance my fingers along his neck. “Here’s the first one. You can look, but only I can touch.”
“Fine. What else?”
“No touching, no kissing, and you have to keep your clothes on.” I lick the corner of my cherry-red lips, waiting for his yes. “What’ll it be?”
He reaches for his glass, swallows more, then sets it down, his eyes flickering with dirty thoughts. “Guess I just bought a tease.”
My smile spreads, slow and sensual. “Yes. Yes, you did, handsome.”
As the song slides into a low beat, a pulsing baseline of longing, I step a few feet back, playing with the buttons on my blouse. Fiddling with the top one, I reveal more skin. With each button I undo, his jaw tightens, his breathing sharpens.
Good. A charge rushes through me and once my shirt is undone, I glide a hand down the valley of my breasts, over my stomach, stopping at my skirt. “Just a little torment for the customer,” I whisper.
“Gimme more,” he says. “That’s my rule.”
“That’s a very good rule, handsome. I’d hate to break it.” I come closer, enough that my thighs brush against his knees. I set my hands on the arms of his chair, giving him a dance.
Finn draws a sharp inhale through his nose. A man coming undone.
Biting the corner of my lips, I move away, shaking my ass in time with the music. I can’t see him, but I can feel his eyes tracing my curves. I run my palms over my ass, sticking it out, letting him enjoy the view.
“Yes,” he rasps.
I smile privately then turn around, letting my shirt fall to the floor. I return to him, standing as I slide one thigh of his between mine. He grips the arms of the chair, and I grind down on his strong muscle so he can feel my desire in my wet panties.
