by Mariah Cole
“Emerald...”
“Don’t placate me. Tell me.”
“I don’t give a fuck who you’ve slept with, and I couldn’t care less that you’re a stripper. As a matter of fact I’m happy that you are; you’re doing something you’re good at, and you’re far away from customer service.” His eyes darken and he looks highly offended. “I do want to fuck you and I am going to fuck you—in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.”
I don’t say anything. I just wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him—unable to deal with this sexual tension any longer.
I want this.
He kisses me back with passion, dominating my lips, pushing my shoulders against the deck.
I moan as he traps my bottom lip between his teeth, as he slowly climbs on top of me.
“Fuck...” he whispers as I slip my hands into his shorts.
He tears his mouth away from mine and presses kisses against my neck, making me moan louder, making me want this even more.
I feel his dick hardening against my thigh and pull on his shorts—anxious to rip them off. Just as I have a good grip on them and am about to push them all the way down, he holds my hands still and stands up.
“What are you doing?” I pant.
“I need to take you home. Now.”
“What? I thought you said you wanted to fuck me.”
“I do.” He smiles and bends down to pick up the cooler. “But you’re not ready.”
“Excuse me?” I’m pretty sure I didn’t hear that right. “I’m not ready?”
“I didn’t stutter.”
“Is there a series of tests I have to pass before I’m deemed worthy of your dick?”
Laughing, he gently pulls me up and places a kiss on my lips. “I’m not in the habit of fucking someone I barely know.”
“What the fuck do you want to know about me, Carter? What do you want to know?”
He ignores my questions and picks up the blanket, walking away to open the car’s passenger door.
I can’t believe this shit...
I glare at him, hoping that this is a dumbass joke and he’ll slam the door shut before pushing me onto the deck again, but he doesn’t.
He pulls the door open even wider. “Let’s go.”
I don’t speak to him on the short drive home. I sit in utter confusion, wondering what the hell is wrong with him.
“Emerald?” He’s suddenly at my door, reaching for my hand.
“Are you gay, Carter?”
He laughs and unbuckles my seatbelt. He helps me to my feet and walks me to the front door. “What time do I need to pick you up for work tomorrow?”
“If you’re gay I won’t be mad. I just need to know.”
He cups my face in his hands and kisses me until I’m breathless, telling me he’s straight without saying a word. “What time?”
“Six...”
“I’ll be here.” He kisses me one last time before motioning for me to go inside. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Emerald.”
Chapter 11
I’m at the end of my routine, standing center stage with one hand on my hip and the other high above my head.
The men are shouting at me—“Don’t stop!” “More!” and tossing dollars at my feet. A couple of them have stepped towards the edge of the stage, beckoning me with crisp bills—pleading for me to step closer and bend down so they can personally pin them on me.
Swirls of smoke are filling the room and the music is getting louder and louder; the lust in the room is damn near palpable.
And I’m loving every second of it.
“Gentlemen...” The DJ’s voice is hoarse. “Give one last round of applause to Raven...”
The applause is louder than I’ve ever heard it, and I blow a kiss to the crowd before picking up all of the dollars and heading backstage.
“Somebody learns really fast.” Robyn hands me a makeup wipe as I sit at the vanity.
“Clearly not well enough. I still only get one song...”
She rolls her eyes. “Sarah called in earlier. You want to dance in her place at midnight?”
“Hell yeah!” I can’t believe it, but then I remember something. “I saw Sarah this morning. Did her car break down or something?”
From what I’ve learned by hanging out with her, Sarah isn’t the type to ever call off from work. She’s the type of employee that always shows up to work on time and hardly ever bends the rules.
Sighing, Robyn leans against the mirror. “She just realized that her mom is dead. It just hit her.”
My heart drops. “Have you talked to her within the last few hours? Is she okay?”
She raises her eyebrow. “What’s this? You’re actually acting concerned? Like she’s your friend?”
“She is my friend.” I think. “You are too...Right?”
“You’re adorable.” She smiles. “She’s fine. Well, as fine as you can be about something like that. I’m going to check on her tomorrow morning and I’ll pick you up on the way. In the meantime, do you want to dance or not? I need to tell Michael who’s taking her place in ten minutes.”
“I’m in.”
She nods and points to the closet, telling me to change into something different. Something much more provocative.
Excited, I rush over and pull out a sparkling black dress that’s so short it could be mistaken for a shirt. As I’m searching for an accessory to pair with it, I remember that I told Carter I’d be done by eleven.
Shit...
I know he’s probably on his way to pick me up, but I have no intention of leaving until after I dance again. I pull my phone out of my locker and call him.
“Emerald,” he answers.
“Is there a reason why you can’t say ‘Hello?’ like a normal person?”
“You called to discuss how I greet you over the phone?” There’s a smile in his voice. “Is The Phoenix that slow tonight?”
“Ugh, no. I was calling because I actually won’t be done for a while. I’m dancing in Sarah’s place, so that’s like three songs.” I try not to sound like this is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me. “I know you’re probably halfway here, but you don’t have to pick me up. I’ll um...I’ll ride back with Robyn and I’ll give you money for the gas you already wasted so—”
“I want to watch you.”
“What?”
“What time do you go on?”
“Midnight.”
“I’ll be there, and I’ll take you home.”
Silence.
“Emerald?” He breaks the silence. He’s the only man who’s ever been capable of making me wet over the phone.
“Yes?”
“Am I allowed to say goodbye now?”
I hang up and smile, honestly excited to have him watch me perform again. Since I have two hours before it’s my turn, I take my time getting ready.
I brush out all of my curls—opting to go for a sleek ponytail. I toss the shimmering black dress into the closet and change into a nude colored skirt, fishnet stockings, and a sheer white top with a hidden zipper in the front.
“Are we going on a date or are we stripping tonight?” Michael steps behind me in the mirror, crossing his arms.
“Don’t you have more tits to screen? Why are you back here?”
He laughs. “Funny. Tell me something. Is this job a temporary thing for you?”
“All jobs are temporary.”
“Okay. Please tell me you don’t actually talk to the customers in the private dance rooms.” He lights a cigarette. “Your sass probably costs you half of what you could be making. Is this temporary or not?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Well...I’m not usually for promoting someone new so soon, let alone someone with such a smart ass mouth, but there’s been a huge response to Raven so—”
“I get to be a premier dancer?”
“Temporarily.” He taps my shoulder. “We’ll talk about it later, after your date I guess.” He looks me up and
down. “You do realize that they want to see you without your clothes, right? This isn’t fucking Broadway.”
I give him a blank stare and watch as he laughs at his own joke, as he clears his throat and straightens himself once he realizes he’s not as much of a hard-ass as he thinks he is.
“You’re due on stage in three minutes,” he says firmly.
I’m well aware of that, but since he insists on always having the last word, I nod and wait for him to walk away. Then, when I’m sure he’s gone and no one is around, I jump up and down like a child.
I can’t believe I’m a premier dancer. That means I’m one step closer to getting the hell out of Blythe, one step closer to actually doing something with my life.
“Gentlemen, there’s been a bit of a schedule change tonight...” The DJ’s voice interrupts my celebration and I rush behind the curtain.
“Coming to the stage for the second time tonight...” he continues, and I suddenly realize I don’t even know what songs are going to play. “Please welcome Raven...”
The curtain begins to rise and I hear a raucous applause. As the notes come through the speakers, I recognize the song—“Spaceship Coupe”—a long, eight minute affair that should be good enough.
I walk down the black runway and prepare to do a routine I’ve been secretly practicing for weeks. Scanning the crowd, I look for Carter and smile when I realize he’s front and center—looking like he wants to pull me down from the stage and drag me out of here.
Perfect.
Knowing that he’s watching my every move, I ease through the routine—dancing as if he’s the only man in the room, as if every bend of my body is a signal for him to finally fuck me. Tonight.
I can’t hear the applause and I don’t notice the dollars that are flying onto the stage. Every time I pause for effect or spin around on the pole, I look at Carter. Only Carter.
He shifts in his seat and I swear he’s mouthing messages to me, but I can’t make out any of them.
When the song ends, a short instrumental song begins and I start the tease part of my routine. I want to point to Carter and have him be the center of my attention for the final dance, but I don’t.
I pick the guy sitting to his right and beckon him to stand up and come closer to the stage.
He points to himself, as if to say, “Who? Me?” and I nod, giving him my foolproof smile.
On hands and knees, I crawl to the edge of the stage to meet him, knowing that I’m about to take every dollar in his pocket and make Carter insanely jealous.
The guy is the nervous type—clearly here with friends, so I gently caress his face with my hands and lean forward, whispering into his ear, “If we were alone right now, what would you do to me?”
He swallows and lets out a small laugh. “I....I...”
“You’re not used to letting a woman be in control are you?”
“I...No...”
I lean back and place my hands on his shoulders, noticing that his eyes haven’t left my breasts, so I go for the easy out.
“You can tip me wherever you like...” I bite my lip and lie back, seductively opening and closing my legs.
His eyes travel across my body and I see one of the bouncers glaring at me out the corner of my eye; I’ve been taking things a little too far all week, but I don’t care.
Nervous guy pulls out his wallet and, as suspected, pulls out several bills. Fifty dollar bills.
He drags the dollars against my thigh and gently slips them underneath the thin string of my thong.
I smile at him and arch my back to lift myself from the floor.
He looks completely entranced and stands there dazed, watching my every move.
As the last seconds of my song play, I move my hands all over my body—yearning for more reaction from the crowd, inwardly smiling when I see Carter clenching his jaw.
I stare into his eyes as I slowly stand up, as the crowd cheers loudly. For at least thirty seconds, he and I are the only people at The Phoenix, and a part of me that I can’t explain wants nothing more than to step down from this stage and let him take me away for the rest of the night.
When the DJ’s voice asks for another round of applause, I slip out of my trance and realize there’s money on the stage.
I blow my typical kiss into the crowd and pick up my money, excited to see how much more I’ve earned from dancing a longer set.
I can hardly hold my excitement once I count the final amount, so to be sure I count it over and over again: Sixteen hundred dollars.
I take out a few hundred for the DJ and the bartenders and place it into their lockers. Since I wasn’t asked to assist in the private rooms, I tell everyone I’m going home and get dressed, sending Carter a text that says I’ll meet him outside.
“You know that guy?” Charlie—the newest bodyguard, blocks me from leaving when I approach the exit.
“What guy?”
“The guy standing in the parking lot.” He points at Carter. “He claims he’s waiting for you.”
I nod and he walks me over to Carter, looking him up and down like he’s trying to remember everything about him.
He even walks behind Carter’s car and writes down his license plate number. Then he crosses his arms. “You can leave now.”
“I’m glad I have your permission.” Carter rolls his eyes and opens the door for me.
The second he slips inside, we both laugh at Charlie. He’s stepped in front of the car as if he’s a traffic controller, signaling for Carter to put the car in reverse and pull away.
“Is security always like that?” he asks.
“I think they have to be.” I laugh. “Sometimes they follow us for a few miles to make sure no one is trailing us home.”
He nods and pulls onto the main road, turning on the radio.
He doesn’t say anything for a long time, making me think the performance I gave wasn’t as great as I thought it was. Either that, or he’s really mad at me.
“Did you enjoy my performance?” I look over and notice his lips are curving into a smile.
“I did.”
“You did? That’s all you have to say?”
“What would you like me to say?”
“How about: Thank you, Emerald. Thank you for telling me about your first premier performance and putting me on the list so I wouldn’t have to pay. You did a damn good job and I almost came in my pants while watching your sexy ass.”
Suppressing a laugh, he slows the car and pulls it to the side of the road. He turns towards me and cups my face in his hands. “Thank you, Emerald. Thank you for telling me about your first premier performance and putting me on the list so I wouldn’t have to pay, even though I would pay triple just to see you dance for five seconds. You did a damn good job, but I hate to inform you that I did not cum in my pants while watching your sexy ass.”
“You also didn’t tip me.”
“I didn’t.” He pulls me close and kisses me.
I shut my eyes as he slips his tongue deeper into my mouth, as he unbuckles my seatbelt and pulls me into his lap.
He presses his forehead against mine—leaving no space between us, and whispers, “I loved every fucking second of it.”
I feel his hands caressing my back and sigh, hoping that he’ll sense that I want this, that I was confused and hurt when he turned me away at the lake yesterday.
Threading his fingers through my hair, he lowers his head to my left shoulder and plants kisses across my collarbone, hesitating a few seconds in between each kiss.
I’ve never been rendered speechless by kisses before. Then again, I’ve never had kisses like this before. They’re sensual and slow, not the rough and primal kind I’m used to.
“Carter...” I tilt my head back as he kisses his way up to my neck and unzips the front of my shirt.
He doesn’t answer. He continues his barrage of torturous kisses and unsnaps my bra.
The second he bites my nipple, I close my eyes and suppress a moan.
I move my hand between us and reach for his fly, tugging on it—damn near ripping it off. When I finally have it down, I slip my hand into his pants, ready to pull his dick out and finally get what I’ve wanted for weeks, but he grabs my hand.
“Stop.”
“Stop?” I ask, breathlessly.
He sighs and pushes me against the dashboard. Without saying another word, he readjusts my bra and zips my shirt.
As I struggle to catch my breath, he lifts me out of his lap and places me back into my seat.
“Put your seatbelt on.” He cranks the car and waits.
I shake my head and try to control the hurt that’s building in my chest.
“Now, Emerald.”
I pull the seatbelt over my shoulder and sit back, staring straight ahead.
He’s been confusing the hell out of me all along—throwing me for loops left and right, but this? This is it.
I have never, ever, been denied this much and after tonight I’m done with him. For good.
I don’t look his way as he drives back towards Blythe. I’m ready for this night to be over, ready to forget all about him and this turn me on, turn me off bullshit.
In the past, Leah would tell me about idiots like him. She’d say that if a man ever rejected me in the heat of the moment that he was either gay or never interested in me to begin with.
I’m honestly ashamed that I didn’t see through his game earlier because it’s clearer than ever right now: He doesn’t really like me. He just feels sorry for me.
Half an hour later, when we pull up to my grandparents’ house, I notice that there are lots of cars parked in the driveway. It’s Bible study night.
Before he can get out of the car and do that Prince Charming shit that drives me insane, I roll the window down and reach out to unlock the door myself.
After letting myself out, I slam the door and look at him. “Thank you for another pointless make-out session. I’m going to go finger fuck myself now. Don’t talk to me anymore.”
I turn away and rush towards the house with him calling my name behind me.