by Penn Rivers
Chapter Eight
GEMMA
Twenty minutes later I eased open the door to the Champagne room, not knowing what kind of dance to expect. I’d be able to tell in less than a minute. Sometimes it only took a look. Did he want a light and bubbly girl? Or a dirty sexy one? Did he want someone to tell his troubles to? A massage? Was he lonely, drunk, or quiet? Did he just want someone to boss around for thirty minutes? Was he a Hannibal Lector wannabe who was scoping out his next victim?
All these things I could figure out pretty easily. It had been harder in the beginning. Harder to pick up on those cues that told me what kind of girl I needed to become. But now I was a pro.
Stepping into the dimly lit room, I closed the door behind me, expecting to see David standing guard in the shadows. Relief slammed me when I realized he wasn’t the bouncer guarding the room for me.
Kane stood like a sentinel against the back wall, arms locked across his chest, his face a mask of professional indifference. He was positioned behind the customer to stay out of sight. The man knew he was there, but Marco thought keeping security present but not in the customer’s line of vision, made for a more satisfying experience. And if the guard did their job right, it didn’t matter if they were seen or not. They’d be right there if there was any indication of trouble.
I focused on the customer.
He was a big man. Muscular. In his early to mid-forties. His salt and pepper hair was long on the top and short on the sides, and his thin goatee shared the same coloring. He had a cruel look in his eyes and a scar above his lip that stood out past the growth of his mustache.
One look at him and my fight or flight instincts kicked in. He made me want to run. And while I tried to avoid the Champagne room at all costs, it wasn’t because I’d had very many scary encounters. It was because I didn’t like the touching involved in a private dance. It made my skin crawl. Even with the sweet and lonelies.
I drew in a deep breath and strolled forward, swinging my hips so the short leather fringe covering my ass gave random peeks of my skin.
“Hey, honey.” I let my voice go syrupy sweet. In my head, it wasn’t my voice. It belonged to someone else. The girl who could put on a show. The one who could shake her tits in a stranger’s face and let him stuff twenties down her panties. It was the voice of a badass who did what she had to do.
Kane had helped me see that.
It takes a lot of balls to walk in that club day in and day out, make yourself vulnerable to strangers, and put up with them when they treat you like you’re low.
I pulled his words from yesterday close to my heart so they wouldn’t get sullied from what I was about to do.
Stopping in front of the customer, I let my eyes roam approvingly over his shoulders and chest. As if I could see beneath his shirt. As if I’d appreciate it if I could.
“What would you like me to do for you, mister?”
“Dance,” he growled. The sharp tone brought my gaze immediately back to his face.
His face that scowled at me with the hatred of a hundred suns.
It threw me off my act, and I grappled to find that bold girl again before he noticed.
On autopilot, I swayed my hips to the music playing through the speakers, and found Kane’s eyes past the customer’s shoulders. The grim set of his mouth told me he wasn’t happy, but his gaze was soft and focused on mine.
Shit. He could see I was struggling, couldn’t he?
I swirled my hips in small circles until my back was to the customer, and then slowly bent at the waist, my spine arched to give him the best view of my ass.
“You like that?” I purred, glancing over my shoulder. But his expression was stone cold as he stared at my goods.
I seductively eased out of that position and into one that put me facing him. I shrugged one shoulder along with the popping beat of the music until the strap of my bra was halfway down my arm, and inched closer to the man’s legs. They were spread wide, and a growing bulge was forming at his hips. I sucked the tip of my finger and drew it slowly down my throat and the valley of my cleavage, circling around my belly button.
His eyes followed. His breath quickened.
Good. This was good.
I stepped between his legs, bouncing my harnessed tits in his face as a teaser for what was coming next.
“Yeahhhh, baby,” I moaned when his eyes followed.
But he froze and his hateful gaze snapped to mine.
“I’m not paying for you to talk. I’m paying for you to dance. Now dance. And don’t open your mouth again unless it’s to breathe.”
Holy shit.
I snapped my mouth closed in shock. What was this asshole’s problem?
I found Kane again and this time he looked furious. Like the wall he stood against was barely holding him back. I gave him the thumbs up sign.
The a-okay sign meant I needed help. Thumbs up meant I was fine.
I took a deep breath, determined to get through this. Badass. I was badass. He said so, and I believed him.
I gave him the thumbs up once more—stay there—and looked away when he shook his head, seeming even angrier. But the air in the room had gone sickeningly tense.
The threat of violence clashed with the seductive music. And the customer huffed out a frustrated breath. I was about to be out the money for this dance, and I’d bet my left nipple neither Marco nor Marcie were going to be happy about it.
I couldn’t afford to mess this up. I’d danced for difficult customers before. I just needed to focus and get through it. As long as the customer wasn’t getting handsy and calling me names, I had to keep dancing.
I looked to Kane again. He seemed a touch calmer even though the vein at his neck bulged obscenely.
He nodded, his gaze digging into me. And he caught what I was throwing his way. I wasn’t going to make it through this one. Shit. This was not badassery. This was me buckling under pressure.
I swallowed hard, unable to look away from Kane. It was like I was frozen in a bad dream. The kind you can’t wake yourself from.
Kane shifted on his feet, his jaw set hard.
He jabbed one finger in the air, pointing it at me. You.
He brought the finger to the spot between his eyes and tapped. Watch me.
He twirled his finger in a slow circle in front of him. Dance for me.
I gave him the tiniest nod. Okay. I could do that. Ignore this glaring customer and dance this one for Kane.
Kane was safe.
Safe for my mind.
I twirled in a sensual circle, keeping my gaze on him until the last minute and then catching it again once I’d spun. Shifting my hips and working the fringe on my panties, I slid my palms down my sides until they rested at my waist. Then I popped my ass. Once, twice, tossing my head back on the third one so that my long hair danced with the fringe covered globes.
I lost sight of Kane momentarily, but when I swung my hair back around, working my shoulders to the beat and letting my hands roam my own body, I found him again.
Holy hell.
The look he gave me was feral. Like an animal who’d just found his mate. It was possessive. A man who intended to own what was before him. A man who was in no hurry because he was sure I was his.
But I wasn’t, was I?
It was a look that should have stopped me in my tracks.
Except it didn’t.
It spurred me on.
Turning with my back to the men, I kept my eyes focused on Kane as I bent slowly at the waist, swiveling my ass like an invitation. Inch by inch, the fringe fell away to reveal bare skin and the small strip of fabric running down the line of my crack to connect with my pussy.
Kane’s nostrils flared. I could see his reaction from across the room. His chest pumping, his fists clenched in restraint.
Warm lust pooled in my belly. My joints felt loose and my chest felt hot with power.
In that moment, he didn’t own me. I owned him. I was a queen and he was my lord. M
y knight in shining armor. And I could tell he was having a hard time not going for his hard, regal sword.
Swinging my hair in an arc, I stood, sweeping my hands up my stomach to cradle my tits through the black leather of my bra. I shimmied low, squatting until Kane was out of my vision, and then shimmied back up, squeezing myself as I rose before licking one finger and taking it down my cleavage again. I teased the cup that covered my left breast, dipping my finger behind it and rubbing the hardened tip of my nipple where no one could see.
For a moment—just a moment—I let myself imagine it was him touching me instead. His finger instead of mine. Maybe because it felt like he was touching me with his gaze. From all that distance away, I could feel him as if he was right against me.
Something was happening to me. To us.
This wasn’t a normal dance. This wasn’t business. This wasn’t my stripper persona doing her job. Doing what she had to, to make it.
No. This was me. Moving my body for Kane. It was turning me on. It was making my chest feel heavy with emotion. It was making me want to run to him. Let him hold me. Kiss me. Do whatever he wanted to with me.
This was not Gemma in a private club room with a customer and a bodyguard.
This was Mina seducing a man she was having feelings for. A man she’d watched for a while, and wanted. Badly. A man she knew could be good for her. Heal her even.
Shit.
I was good at keeping myself separate. Now Kane was messing that all up. Breaking down my walls.
But that knowledge didn’t dampen my lust. It didn’t make me want to stop what I was doing.
Eyes hooded, I dipped into the other cup, pinching at the bud and all but letting a moan slip past my lips. But I remembered the customer’s words. He didn’t want to hear me.
Fine.
I glanced at the man. He was angrily gulping air into his lungs. His dick was so hard it looked like it could split his pants. And his loathing stare was leveled at my chest.
Not for you, I thought, and again looked past him to where Kane was bathed in shadow.
Kane’s gaze was fire on me. Burning away all my cares.
I squeezed the leather once more, pinching my nipples through it.
His eyes screamed at me, take it off, while his fists cranked open and shut at his sides.
I gave him my back, unlatching the closure and shrugging the bra from my shoulders. I flung it across the room and lifted my arms above my head, swaying my hips to the music and keeping my tits out of sight.
Sultry fire burned between my legs. An ache that needed to be cured. I wanted to touch myself. But that wasn’t something I was willing to do with a third set of eyes in the room.
Cupping my breasts instead, I swung around to face Kane, my hips popping my ass in time to the music. And then, instead of just dropping my hands for him to see, I let them ripple down my tummy inching closer to the front of my panties with every smooth thrust of my hips.
Kane licked his lips, his mouth staying open slightly. Like he was having trouble breathing.
But… he saw this stuff every day. How could this be any different for him?
The thought was a temporary bump on my road to Lust-ville, and I swerved around it.
He was looking at me. Like that. And I’d never seen him look like that before. No matter who was on stage.
One hand tapped on the cleft of my pussy. Briefly. Just enough to tease. Him and myself. The touch felt good. For a split second, relieving the ache of my clit.
Too good. So I slid my hands to my thighs, planning to work my ass some more, bounce my breasts this time.
“Take it all off.” The customer’s brutal voice pulled me back to reality momentarily. I found his snarling gaze. “The fucking panties have to go. I want to see that cunt,” he rasped. “I’ll pay extra.”
That wasn’t part of the deal. I wore these skimpy panties with nothing but fringe on the backside for a goddamn reason. The full frontal only came out on stage. Where I was far away from the possibility of prying hands. And god, if I could get away without taking my bottoms off on stage, I chose that. Every. Single. Time.
Now this angry man was wanting me to bear all. In front of Kane.
The black satin triangle covering my aroused ladybits wasn’t much, but it was everything to remove it.
The customer scowled at my hesitation, reaching in his pocket and coming out with a wad of cash. He quickly peeled five one hundred dollar bills from the stack and shoved the rest back in his pocket. He held them in front of my face with a cruel twist of his lips.
“To see your pussy. It better be worth it.”
I glanced at Kane. His eyebrows came so low with a frown I could barely see his eyes. He shook his head. A small shift of his jaw telling me no. Don’t you dare. But… his breath sawing in and out of his chest told me another thing.
The idea of seeing me bare was driving him crazy.
My heart thundered in my chest.
I snatched the money from the customer’s hand, took my time rolling it into a thin tube, and tucked it behind one ear.
Watching Kane the entire time.
He looked murderous. And a little bit like he wanted to eat me for dinner. It made my stomach quiver and my pussy burn hotter.
Shit, I was doing this.
Turning to the side, while keeping my gaze on Kane, I inched my panties past the curve of my ass, the fringe tickling the flesh of my most private spot and making me bite my lip to keep in a moan. Lower and lower I went, using my middle fingers to guide the strappy bottoms past my thighs and calves before stepping free of them. I stood and faced him, legs slightly apart, panties dangling from one finger at my side. The sultry air of the room felt icy cool on the wet flesh I’d revealed.
I’d never been this turned on. Not ever. And it was all because of the way Kane looked at me. Like I was the only drink of water in hell. Like I was a diamond so rare no one had ever touched it.
Who was this girl I was becoming?
A growl of appreciation rumbled from the chair before me and I ignored it, tossing away my panties. They landed on the floor over the customer’s shoulder, closer to Kane. I watched him bend to pick them up while I finished swiveling my hips to the raunchy music.
This was almost over. And for the first time ever, part of me wished it wasn’t. The part of me that didn’t ever want Kane to look away.
Chapter Nine
KANAAN
I held Gemma’s panties in my hand, catching my breath, an impossible fucking feat as I watched her naked body move in sinful ways.
They were soaked. The evidence of her arousal saturated the satin and it was all I could do not to lift them to my face and take in her scent like a dog. Breathe it all in until I’d memorized it. Until it lived in my brain.
Fuck.
Watching her had made my dick so hard I didn’t think my zipper could hold it very much longer. I’d tried to keep it all business. Tried to help her get through this dance with a difficult customer because I knew she needed the money. But fuck-all. I couldn’t keep my mind straight with her looking at me like that.
Like this was all for me. Like she fucking wanted to take her clothes off for me.
And…
I swallowed hard, staring down at the wet panties clenched in my fist.
…clearly, she couldn’t keep hers straight either.
God. Her eyes said so much. It didn’t matter that there was a roomful of distance between us. They begged and pleaded. Blinked sweetly, while teasing seductively. They were full of thank-yous and I-want-yous and I-need-yous.
“You a whore?” the customer asked, snapping my gaze back to them. Gemma had stopped dancing. She stared at him, clearly unsure if she should open her mouth to answer. “You take money for other things? Like touching or dick? Answer me.”
The man was snarling, his eyes dark with sick lust. He wasn’t safe. Instinct told me that. But he also wasn’t crossing any lines.
I wanted him to. Desperate
ly. Give me an excuse to fuck him up. But he knew exactly what he was doing.
Motherfucker.
Gemma shook her head.
The man sat forward in his seat. I couldn’t see his face but the tone of his voice had me moving closer.
“Bullshit,” he spat. “You’re a whore, aren’t you? I’ll pay to touch that sopping cunt. And I know you want it. You’re wet for it. Fucking slut.”
I was there before he could get the last syllable out, jerking him up by his arm.
“Enough,” I growled. “Your time’s up. Get the fuck out.” I shoved him toward the door, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to push me.
I glared down at him, wanting to crush his windpipe for what he’d said to Gemma.
But then his ugly lips turned up in a brutal smile, and he went for the exit, slamming the door behind him.
I stared after him, breathing hard, and desperate to clear the rage before I faced Gemma. When I did, I found her rushing to put her clothes back on. She’d already hunted down her panties and was latching her bra. Her hands shook as she pulled the straps up her shoulders.
I crossed the room in three strides, dragging her close and turning her face up so I could see her clearly.
“Are you okay?” I needed to know.
She nodded, but I didn’t let go of her cheeks.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
It was like my brain couldn’t register her answer.
“Are you okay, Gemma?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her hand coming up to rest over one of mine. With a shuddering sigh, she leaned into my palm looking… safe.
Her words from before echoed in my mind. You feel safe.
And she was. With me she was always safe.
“I’m okay, Kane,” she whispered, and somehow, I believed her.
That dick-faced bastard hadn’t hurt her heart.
I pulled away to pace the small room, trying to calm the rage inside. The desire. The emotions that tangled together into a huge lusty knot.
I needed distance, but I couldn’t walk away.
I needed to be closer, but if I stayed, no telling what I would do.