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“Besides,” she had said as she gave my breast a playful slap, “your girls here will be nice and swollen so you’ll look even better up there on the stage.”
I didn’t think there was anything nice about swollen tatas and cramping and nausea. Swinging from a pole while shedding my uterine lining seemed like the least sexy thing in the world. I would have been lucky to walk off the stage with a dollar if I had to dance during that time of the month.
Wincing, I tried to pull the edge of the pastie on my left side away from my skin. It felt like it had superglued it to my skin, and I wondered how in the hell I was going to get these off before work. There was already a slight rash along the edges of the pasties, and I worried it would get even worse if I didn’t remove them soon.
As I picked at the adhesive, I heard the doorbell ring. I had already paid for the food and left a tip in the app so I didn’t bother putting my shirt back on to answer the door. Janie could handle it while I tried to figure a way out of my sticky situation. I finally managed to get my fingernail under the edge of the pastie and lifted it a tiny bit away from my skin.
Immediately, I regretted it. “Ouch!”
“Stop.” Danny’s voice startled me, and I dropped my hand to my side like a scolded child. He loomed in the doorway behind me and scowled at his mirrored reflection. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Frozen, I watched him walk into the bathroom. He stopped behind me, and I gulped at the sensation of his body heat against my bare back. I gasped as his hands gripped my waist and lifted me right up off the floor, turning and depositing me right onto the counter. One of his big hands stayed on my waist. The other moved toward my breast. I sucked in a sharp breath as he touched me, his fingers tracing the edge of the pastie.
Our gazes clashed, his steady and heated, mine skittish and excited. For so long, I had dreamed of this. I had fantasized about Danny touching me like this. Now, it was happening, and I could hardly breathe.
“I’ll be right back.” Danny’s hand left my breast, and I instantly missed it. He left me sitting there, wondering where he was going and why.
When he returned a short time later, I was taken aback by the bottle of olive oil in his hand. “Olive oil?”
“It will help with the adhesive.”
“How do you know that?”
Danny ignored the slightly accusatory tone in my voice and opened the bottle. “I’ve been working security in strip joints since I was eighteen. I’ve picked up some of the tricks.”
I held my breath as Danny tipped the bottle over my chest and let the oil dribble out onto my skin. He grabbed a rolled hand towel from the basket on the counter and placed it on my lap, protecting my pants from the oil now spreading down my belly. The touch of Danny’s fingers on my oil-covered skin electrified my whole body.
Trying to maintain control, I asked, “Have you dated a lot of dancers?”
“A few,” he said, but I didn’t care how many because he started massaging the oil into my skin. Suddenly, the number of women before me no longer mattered. I was the one he had wanted and waited for, and I was the one here now.
I gripped the edge of the counter as Danny’s fingers swirled through the oil and painted the pasties with it. Of all the ways I had dreamed of Danny touching me like this, helping me remove the remnants of my one brief flirtation with stripping wasn’t among them. Yet here he was, massaging my breasts as if it were the most normal thing in the world to do.
I tried not to show how rattled I was, but my pale skin betrayed me as I flushed. The blazing heat crept up my chest and into my neck before blossoming across my face and ears. Danny didn’t say anything, but I could tell by the way his breaths deepened that he noticed. His fingers moved more slowly and with deeper pressure, swirling over the pasties and my nipples until they were soaked with the oil.
His fingers began to move away from my aching breasts to my neck and shoulders. I lifted my gaze, catching his searing one, and intently watched his face as his oil-slicked fingers glided along my skin. He gently grasped the back of my neck and tipped my head back, lowering his face toward mine.
I knew he was about to kiss me. I wanted it. I wanted it so much.
But I was also scared. Scared that I wasn’t good enough for him. Scared that I didn’t have enough experience. Scared that I would disappoint him.
“You’ll get oil on your shirt,” I protested weakly.
“I’ll buy a new one.” He captured my mouth in a kiss that made my head spin. I clutched his shirt, holding the lightweight cotton in my fists. He made a sound that was halfway between a moan and a frustrated growl. The vibrations went straight down between my legs, and I felt my whole body tremble as his tongue stabbed into my mouth to tangle with mine.
Danny pressed forward, pushing my thighs apart. There was no mistaking the hardened ridge of his cock straining against his jeans. Lost in the wicked sensation, I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him in even closer. I wanted to feel him—all of him.
His hands tangled in my hair, and I let go of his shirt, reaching for his shoulders and then his face. His cheeks were rough with stubble from the long flight, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his cheeks rasping the insides of my thighs. The image of his head between my legs left me throbbing and hot.
How fast could I get my pants off? Could we be quiet? Would I regret my first time being fast and quick on a bathroom counter?
The doorbell rang, startling us both. As if caught, we separated, both of us breathing hard and flushed. All I could think about was kissing him again. Some place quiet and cozy where we wouldn’t be interrupted. Some place where we could make as much noise as we wanted.
“Are you expecting someone?” Danny shot a wary glance toward the bathroom door.
“We ordered something to eat.”
“I could have brought you something.” Danny swept strands of my hair away from my cheek. “I can take you for groceries later and anything else you need.”
