My body goes haywire. How can a simple touch stir up such a frenzy? This is the moment I realize that I’m in big, big trouble with this guy.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JEFFREY
“HOW’D I KNOW you were gonna take me to a strip club?”
She shrugs her creamy white shoulders. “Must be finally figuring out how awesome I am.” Tink grabs my arm, pulling me toward the door to the Hustler Club. “Come on, stiffy. Let’s go see some titty-tons.”
After paying our covers and the additional fees for VIP, I follow Gina inside. The first thing I notice is how much nicer this place is than any strip club I’ve ever been to with the guys. Not that I’ve been to very many—just for a couple of my buddies’ bachelor parties. It’s not really my thing. Or, it wasn’t. While I enjoy a nice pair of tits as much as the next guy, it was always a little uncomfortable knowing Jess was back home stressing over the fact that I was there. Not that I could blame her. I certainly wouldn’t have been okay if she were the one out on the town, watching men take off their clothes.
“I can do that.” Tink points to the stripper spinning around the top of the stripper pole, which extends all the way up to the ceiling on the second floor.
“Why does that not surprise me?” I lean in close and still have to shout to be heard over the loud music.
“I was never a stripper, Jeffrey.” She drags me over to the railing for a closer look. “It looked like fun, so I took lessons.”
“You have too much time on your hands.”
“Jealous?”
I take a moment to contemplate what I’m sure was meant to be a rhetorical question, and am surprised to realize in some ways I am. I can’t imagine not feeling bogged down by the stress of running my company or being the only full-time parent to my kids. But I also can’t even fathom how meaningless my life would be without them. “A little,” I finally answer, not wanting to make her feel bad about herself by revealing the truth. She’s already let it slip that she’s unable to have children. If I were being honest, I’d tell her how empty I would feel without my girls. You’d think I’d enjoy having the chance to go out and hook up, but I’m left feeling so hollow the next morning. It’s at those times I miss my wife more than ever—where I mourn the intimacy that goes along with sex when there are feelings involved.
“Come here, I wanna show you something.” Tink’s eyes widen with excitement as she takes my hand, leading me out to a balcony overlooking Bourbon Street. “This is why you get VIP at The Hustler Club.”
“So, it has nothing to do with the strippers?”
“Duh, them too, but you can get that downstairs. This is worth the extra cash.” Gina grabs two hands full of beads from the bucket next to the balcony door, waving them in the air above her head. “Come on ladies, show me those tittays!”
Dear God, she is insane. She’s immature and wild, with a mouth that would make a sailor blush. Why can’t I seem to get enough of her, I wonder, taking a pull from my beer.
“Don’t watch me, idiot. Watch the street. You’re about to see some boobies, CEO!”
“My bad.” Shaking myself from a daze, I refocus my attention on the sea of drunken chaos below. People from all walks of life are joined together in the spirit of tits and booze. There’s a religious man preaching into a microphone a few feet down about the perils of alcohol. The best part of that situation is he’s got his two young children with him. Parenting win. I’m pretty sure bringing your kids to Bourbon Street negates your right to judge.
“Throw me somethin’, mister!” a half-naked brunette shouts, lifting her cropped tee. Two large tits pop out. She shimmies, jiggling them from side to side.
An elbow digs into my side. “She’s talking to you, Jeffrey. Throw her some damn beads.”
Oh, yeah. “I feel like a total creep paying that young girl in plastic beads for exposing herself, Tink.”
Gina huffs. Her sigh is loud and drawn out. “You’re such a dad. Lighten up. These girls know the currency before popping their tits out. It’s all about the experience, Jeff. They are having the time of their lives!”
I harrumph. “Yeah, well, let me find out my girls ever try—”
“Jeffrey,” Tink warns, fisting her hand into the front of my shirt. “I adore your kids—I do. But, we’re at a strip club...Can you take the dad hat off for a few hours and just be a hot, sexy, single dude out with a very horny sexual goddess for one night? Huh? I really need the happy ending promised at the end of this not date.” Her hands come around my waist and venture into my back pockets, where she gives my ass cheeks a good squeeze.
Gina’s right. “Sorry. I’ll try not to be such a buzzkill,” I breathe the promise into the top of her hair while rattling the Mardi Gras necklaces over the ledge with one hand. The other, I wrap around her back, pressing her body harder against my own. In this alcohol-induced haze, it’s easy to ignore the faint warning going off in my mind that’s telling me it’s time to pull away. I’ve got enough wits about me to know I’m letting things go too far, but just enough of a buzz not to care. I haven’t enjoyed a woman’s company this much in years.
Tink orders us each a few shots of Fireball, her choice of poison, and we stay out on the balcony throwing beads ’til the sun begins to set. Hours have gone by in the blink of an eye.
“I have a surprise for you,” Gina squeals, as she returns from a trip to the bathroom handing me two mystery shots.
“Do you?” I ask, eyeing her. “Why does this frighten me?”
Giggling, she disappears back through the door. “Come on, CEO! And swallow those,” she shouts back at me. “You’re gonna need ’em.”
The little sprite frolics off to a dark little cubbyhole in the back of the room. My pulse speeds up with nervous excitement. “What are you doing?”
“Have a seat, Jeffrey,” she orders, pushing down on my shoulders.
“Are you going to strip for me?” I ask, my hubba-hubba brows waggling.
She winks a seductive eye at me. “Something like that.”
Suddenly the woman we watched working the pole a few hours earlier appears. “Hey there, Jeffrey,” she croons, placing both of her hands on the arms of my chair. Her huge tits are right under my nose, bouncing in her gold bikini top. Her long wavy brown hair tickles my nose. “I’m Misha. Your girl Gina here tells me you deserve a special treat tonight.”
My cock rises like a phoenix from the ashes as she scoots her barely covered pussy onto my lap, reaching back to untie her top.
“Would you like her to join you?”
“Oh, no,” Gina insists, backing away slowly. “This is all for him.”
“Come here, Tink.”
“Nuh-uhn. I paid to watch,” she persists.
“Come. Here.”
Tink swallows hard. I can see her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Now.”
Slowly the sexy little blonde makes her way over to stand before me. Misha steps back allowing us a semiprivate moment.
“Your dress,” I rasp, “Take it off.”
She grips the hem of her dress, and shimmies, lifting it over her head. Goddamn it. I’ve never in my life seen anything more beautiful than this woman standing before me in nothing but a bikini. Even without the beer goggles, I know for a fact she’d still be the most exquisite thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Sit in his lap,” Misha orders, taking Gina by the arms and turning her back to my front.
With little hesitation Tink straddles my knees, reverse cowgirl style, spreading her legs and scooting all the way back. “Like this, Jeffrey?” she asks over her shoulder, grinding her ass into my rock-hard dick.
“Y—yeah.”
Then Misha begins to roll her hips to the beat of the music, climbing over Gina. The girls compete in an erotic dance off—in my lap.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, tonight, Tink,” I growl into her ear, cupping her breasts. Sliding my fingers beneath the fabric, I tweak her hard nipples, and she
moans in pleasure. Her head falls back to rest on my shoulder, pushing her tits up into the air. I bring my lips to the curve of her neck and suck the sensitive flesh as she writhes against me.
“That was fun guys,” Misha says. Her time must be up. Until she spoke just now, I’d managed to forget she was even here.
Gina slips the dancer a wad of cash, and—I’m assuming—thanks her. I’m so close to nutting I can’t focus on much else. I haven’t come from dry humping since I was a kid, but I’m so fucking close. What I wouldn’t give to be able to throw Gina on the floor and give her a good fucking.
“Feel free to stay here a while longer and finish your man off...Just remember,” Misha adds with a mischievous grin, “no sex in the champagne room.”
“No sex, my ass,” Gina says as soon as Misha is out of earshot.
“I’m sorry?” I say, running my tongue up the curve of her neck. “Did you say you want it in your ass?”
“Maybe later,” Gina teases, reaching behind her to unzip my pants and then pulls out my dick. “Wrap it,” she orders, pulling her suit to the side and slipping two fingers into her pussy.
Let’s just say I’m pretty sure I set the world record for suiting up.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
GINA
AFTER JEFFREY GIVES me two of the best orgasms of my life, one with his monster cock and another with his skilled fingers, we decide it’s time to grab some food to soak up some of the alcohol that, according to him, we’ve both consumed way too much of. Personally, I could go at least a few more rounds.
“You’re actually kinda fun when you’re inebriated, CEO,” I observe as we make our way down to the French Quarter for beignets at Café Du Monde.
“Thanks, Tink.” Jeff reaches for my hand, lacing his fingers in mine. My first instinct is to pull away, but it feels nice. Really nice, actually. “You’re not as hard to stomach when the kids aren’t around,” he slurs, his half-assed attempt at a compliment, and I nearly piss myself laughing.
“Wow. You really know how to make a girl feel good, lemme tell ya.”
He looks over at me with a wide, goofy grin. “I’ve always been good with my dick.”
“Oh my God.” He is too much. “I was talking about your Shakespearian way with words.”
His face beams with pride. “I’m very charming as well.”
Someone has definitely been lying to him. “Uh-huh,” I mumble. He’s lucky I’m looking forward to him making me feel good for a third time tonight.
When we reach Jackson Square, there’s a small crowd collected around a pair of dueling violinists. Both Jeffrey and I naturally gravitate in that direction. The music is hypnotic, but it’s when we get close enough to see the couple that I’m truly mesmerized. The guy is tall and lanky, just how I like ’em. He’s got light caramel skin, and a fluff of springy curls atop his head. And his eyes...I’m getting vagina flutters just witnessing the way he’s fucking the willowy brunette with those mossy green orbs.
There’s so much passion in the way the two of them play that I can’t help but imagine what’ll be going down in their room tonight. If they make it that far. I kinda hope he goes all caveman and fucks her right here where we can watch. A girl can dream, right?
“Aren’t they beautiful?” I ask Jeffrey, who hasn’t said a word. It’s the longest he’s gone without talking since we left the strip club.
“You think they’re a couple?” he asks, moving his hand to the small of my back. Goosebumps breakout across my skin as he glides his thumb back and forth.
I nod. “Have to be. Strangers don’t look at each other like that, CEO.”
We watch in silence for the rest of their set, and I wonder if Jeff’s body is having the same physical reaction as mine. I feel hot and needy—bordering on desperate—and I just had two orgasms. “I bet if they performed outside of the sex toy shop, they’d sell the place out.”
“You ready to go again, Tink?”
“God, yes.”
The music stops, and the beautiful couple instantly fall into one another’s arms, making out like it’s their life source. I wonder what it’s like to feel a love so intense.
Jeff releases my hand, stumbling over to the tip bucket and dropping a wad of cash inside. “Thanks for warming my girl up for me,” he says at a volume much louder than his usual speaking voice. Then he returns to my side, grabbing my hand and heading in the direction of the café.
My girl. He called me his girl. I know it was nothing more than an alcohol-induced slip of the tongue, but I’m confused as fuck at why this isn’t sending me running for the hills. Why’d I like hearing those two words so much? Most of all, why is there suddenly the tiniest part of me that wishes he meant it?
“Where’re you going, Jeff?” He’s suddenly pulling me in the direction of some creepy little alley. “The café is that way.”
He points ahead to a dimly lit table in the back of the alleyway. It’s then that I notice the sign, “Lady Adelaide’s psychic readings.”
“Oh, no.” Turning back the way we came, I tug on his arm. “I’m not doing this shit, Jeffrey. I told you that already.”
“I’ll do it. It’ll be fun. Come on, Tink.” I have a really bad feeling about this, but he’s so damn eager and cute and I can’t tell him no.
“Fine. But I’m just watching.”
“Deal.”
Lady Adelaide has a fancy setup compared to the others we’ve passed by, most of which were just a simple black folding table with a handmade posterboard sign taped to the front. This chick has a legit banner and thick purple drapes on rods which she closes around us for privacy. There’s an odd scent...some sort of incense is burning, and the smoke only adds to the creepy atmosphere. I can’t believe Jeffrey’s into this shit.
“Hi. Welcome.” A beautiful Creole woman with the most amazing creamy mocha skin and hypnotic green eyes greets us with a smile. “I’m Lady Adelaide...Are we here for a couple’s reading tonight?”
“Oh, no.” I shake my head, motioning to Jeffrey. “We’re not a couple.”
Her forehead crinkles. “No?” She looks from me to the CEO and back again with a knowing glance. I think she may have just winked at me. How weird.
“No,” Jeff agrees, sitting in the chair opposite hers. “We’re definitely just friends.”
Lady Adelaide nods, although she’s clearly not convinced. “All right, so here’s what we’re going to do Mr....?”
“Jeff.”
“Jeff.” She nods. “I want you to hold this deck of cards in your hands and think about your life. Where you’ve been. Where you are now. Where you’re going. Any concerns you may have for your future. I want you to put your energy into that deck for me, Mr. Jeff.”
He takes the big clunky deck of worn cards from her hands. His eyes close, and he’s silent for a moment before handing them back.
“Very good. Now I want you to choose five cards,” she says, fanning them out across the table. “One at a time.”
Jeffrey begins picking out cards and handing them to Adelaide, who arranges them in the shape of a cross in the center of the table. He looks over to me and winks.
“Very good.” She nods, studying the spread.
As she starts to read his cards, my stomach grows weak. Lady Adelaide mentions a great love from his past, and how he’s still struggling with that loss. Jeffrey nods, his face going white and eyes glistening in the candlelight, and suddenly this fun and frivolous adventure becomes so much more than we bargained for.
“This card tells me that you’ve reached a very important crossroads, Mr. Jeffrey. Whatever happened in your past is preventing you from living your life. It’s preventing you from moving forward.”
Jeff coughs, clearing his throat. “My wife,” he finally says, breaking down. “I lost my wife.”
Lady Adelaide rests a hand over his, gently. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
My heart twists into knots. I can’t handle seeing him in so much pain. I want to g
rab him by the arm and drag him out of here, putting an end to this torture. Why would anyone willingly submit themselves to this?
“Ahh. But this card here tells me that a beautiful future awaits you. A soulmate, Mr. Jeffrey. And I’m getting the feeling you’ve already met this person.” Her brows raise in question.
I swear the man turns white as a sheet. It’s not even my reading, and I’m freaking shaking. He doesn’t utter a word. Just sits there growing paler by the minute.
“You have a lot to think about. Find a way to deal with your pain, or this new life may never come to fruition. Many people spend their whole lives searching for their soulmates. You’re one of the lucky few to have been blessed with two. This is a good fortune, Mr. Jeffrey. Don’t let it slip away.”
§
“Can I ask what happened?” I work up the nerve to ask after a mostly silent walk to his hotel from the card reading. We’re about to step inside, and I know that once we do there will be little chance for talking. “How’d she—”
“Yeah. No...it’s fine. She died after giving birth to Willow.” His hand scrubs over his face, and he stumbles a little on the uneven sidewalk.
“Oh my God, Jeffrey. I’m so sorry. Did she ever get the chance to see her?” I ask, while reaching for his arm to steady him.
“You don’t have to apologize, Tink. It’s not your fault.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, as if he’s trying to console me. “Yeah, she saw her. I have a few pictures of them in the hospital, actually. They’re the last pictures we have of her. She passed away a few hours after Willow was born. Jess was asleep, and I’d gone down to the nursery to check on the baby. When I got back to the room—” His face takes on a faraway look, and I can tell he’s reliving the awful event.
“It’s okay,” I say rubbing his back when I see how upset he’s become. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I found her—” he stops walking, biting down on his knuckle, and lets out a guttural cry. “Lying in a pool of blood on the—on the floor.”
My hand lifts to cover my mouth and warm tears line my cheeks as my heart breaks into a million tiny pieces for this man, who lost the love of his life. For Willow, who will never know her mother. For Jessica, who will never get the chance to see what a true joy her baby girl is. And for Evangeline, who had to go through such a traumatic loss at way too young of an age.
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