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“Is it really that bad?” she snorts, shifting off my lap and dropping her gaze to my crotch. She smothers a smile at the very obvious boner in my pants.
“You know Beast told me that his dick nearly fell off from blue balls when Grim couldn’t have sex with him for six weeks after Iris was born,” I explain, adjusting my cock as she lets out a giggle. “The guy jerked off about five times a day and he still wasn’t satisfied.”
“I’m not surprised it almost fell off, jerking off that many times,” Kid retorts with a burst of laughter. “Also, eww. I donotneed that image in my head.”
“I thought you liked Beast, all muscles and a body covered in tatts. He’s every girl’s wet dream, or so he likes to remind me despite knowing that there’s no one else but Grim for him.”
“I do like Beast, but not like that. Besides, I have all the muscles and tatts I need with you.You’remy wet dream.”
“And the others?” I tease, “Don’t tell me you’ve gone off them. They’d be heartbroken. Me on the other hand–”
She shoves my shoulder. “That goes without saying.”
“That you’ve gone off them?” I ask, enjoying our lighthearted banter.
“That they’re my wet dream too, arsehole.”
“Fine, fine.We’reyour wet dream. Speaking of which…” I drop my gaze back to my dick, which is straining impressively against my black slacks, “All this talk of wet dreams is making me harder. I’m afraid it’s going to drop off if this issue isn’t dealt with soon.”
“You’re dick isnotgoing to drop off.”
“It might.”
“Stop being so dramatic.”
“Tell that to my cock. He’s either going to explode with frustration or hang limp with disappointment.”
Kid rolls her eyes, then offers me her hand, which of course I take. Standing, I haul her close as she presses her body against mine and slides her free hand over my dick, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Tell your cock that I have plans for us later that involve him coming in my mouth and again in my pussy, but for now I want to dance.”
“You want to do what?” I ask, my head a little scrambled from her sinful words.
“I want to dance. With you,” she enunciates, stepping back and traversing around the table, leaving both me and my cock bereft.
“Out there?” I ask, pointing to the door where our resident DJ is currently playing 90’s hip-hop for our die-hard patrons. Sunday night is members night only, and it’s heaving out there.
“Where else?” she asks, pulling open the door, daring me to deny her.
“It’s been a while since we danced in front of people.”
“Are you saying that youdon’twant to dance with me?”
“Absolutely-fucking-not,” I reply, striding over to her and taking her hand before tugging her into the hallway beyond. “It’s been too long.”
“That’s what I thought,” she says, grinning widely.
* * *
“And there’sme thinking you actually wanted to dance with me, when all you wanted was to battle,” I say under my breath as DJ Foxy calls for space on the dance floor so we can go head-to-head.
Opposite me Kid shrugs, her black tank top tight over her pert breasts. She’d discarded her sheer black shirt behind the bar after knocking back a shot of vodka for dutch courage. Not that she needs it. Kid can still dance. We all can, it’s just that we’re a little…rusty.
Spending the last five years putting all our time and energy into the club and our other businesses has left little time for dance, and whilst we’re all happy about the success of Twisted Bullet, there’s no denying the fact that we’re all suffering from the long arse days, with little respite to indulge in what all our hearts yearn for aside from each other.
“You needed a reminder,” Kid says, striding onto the dance floor, her brow lifted in challenge as she spins around to face me.
“A reminder of what exactly?” I ask, as memories of that night when I faced Kid on the dance floor of Rocks come flooding back.
