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SEAL's Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance

Page 95

by Juliana Conners


  They can get any woman they want to do anything they want, and they leave her begging for more. In fact, they sometimes even share one woman.

  I was always sure that all of it was true— well, except maybe for that last part. I can't understand why the Rossi brothers would need to share one woman when they're so adept at getting so many. Or how that could be anything but awkward for all involved.

  The rest of it has always made sense to me, though. There are definitely women out there who love bad boys. And there's no denying that the Rossi brothers are handsome. Now they're even rich, which of course is an added bonus.

  But I guess I also always thought I was immune to the Rossi brothers and anyone like them. Their charms or their asshole ways or whatever it was that drew women to them wouldn't work on me.

  Because I'm Jessica Mason. An ambitious, determined woman with political aspirations only half achieved so far. I need to keep climbing all the way to the top. Plus, I'm a good girl in bed, in relationships and in life. I don't need any bad boys to drag me down.

  But when Marino Rossi comes to the door, I start to see that I may have been wrong about some things. At the top of the list of things I might have been wrong about is my ability to look away from his dark green, piercing eyes— and the way he looks at me.

  People talk about eyes that undress you when they look at you. But Marino's eyes not only undress me, they burn my clothes off and tie me up naked, helpless, and begging to be kept captive forever.

  "How you doin', Doll?" Marino asks me.

  "F-fine," I stammer.

  And then I remember I'm supposed to be an experienced stripper.

  "I'm just fine. I'm here for the job."

  I show him the classified ad Senator Santara told me to use as my lead-in.

  "We're not auditioning tonight," he says.

  I roll my eyes, not just to play the part of a busy stripper who doesn't have time to waste in between making those dolla dolla bills, but also because I’m annoyed. I'm a busy senator who needs to get in, out and on with my normal life.

  "It says right here to come by any night between 8 and 9," I tell him.

  And also to bring appropriate attire to be ready to perform immediately if hired.

  I'd stared at that line in the ad for a while, in disbelief. Partly I was imagining myself as a real, out of work stripper, dragging a duffle bag full of stripper clothes across the city, hoping someone would hire me to work that night. But the bigger part of me was focused on reality and scared to death of how I was going to actually be ready to perform on stage when I don't even like to change in the dressing room in front of my sister when we go shopping together.

  "Yeah?"

  He shrugs, as if not understanding the point I’m trying to make. He clearly couldn't care less about the struggles of this desperate stripper looking for work. I'm sure we're a dime a dozen.

  "Well, it's between 8 and 9," I tell him. "It's 8:30, to be exact."

  I've always been known for my punctuality. My mother taught me it's one of the essential traits of successful people.

  "And it's any night of the week," I add, as he just stares at me.

  "We're having a private soiree tonight," he says, looking around as if making sure no one can overhear.

  Perfect. They're worried about the public coming in. Or about investigators sniffing around.

  If I can get in here— and I'm pretty sure I can, judging from the way that Marino is staring at the cleavage prominently being displayed from behind my mesh tank top— that will make this stupid undercover assignment all that much easier and faster.

  I'll find out what they're up to and I'll give the information to Senator Sentara and everyone in the committee will love me and vote for all my bills. This'll be nothing. A piece of cake.

  "I might be able to get you an audition, but you'll have to promise to do something really special to wow us," he says, lowering his voice as if he's offering me the chance to win a billion dollars. "It's a private party and no one's supposed to be let in, like I said. And it's the boss's birthday."

  So it's Dante Rossi’s birthday and it's also my lucky day. Because I know that if Marino lets me in when he’s not supposed to, he's been blinded by my looks. He'll let his guard down and I can find all the damning information I need.

  "I can definitely wow you," I tell him, raising my eyebrows and pursing my lips in my best attempt to be seductive.

  "Hold on a second," he says, and nods at me before closing the door.

  When he comes back, he leads me through a swanky lounge and to a large stage near the back of the room. Dante is sitting around the stage, as are other rich-looking men. Customers, I assume.

  A lot of gorgeous young women are sitting around tables further away, staring at me like I'm trying to take their jobs. And I guess I am, only in a different way than they're anticipating.

  "Dante, this is… well, I didn't catch your name," Marino says, looking at me now instead of at Dante.

  "Desire," I tell him, with a coy smile.

  "Very nice," he says, with an approving nod.

  I have to admit that I like the stripper name I picked out well in advance. So I'm glad he does too.

  "Goes well with Dante," Dante says.

  "Well, you wanted this spot, and now it's yours," Marino says, gesturing to the empty stage. "So let's see what you've got."

  What do I have?

  Lots of hours of YouTube prep and pole dancing classes but no actual experience at this. And everyone is looking at me rather skeptically. I'd better put on one hell of show. I don't want my cover to be blown before this whole thing even has the chance to get started.

  As I climb the stage and see both Marino's and Dante's eyes watching me, I start to think I might be better at this than I thought. Sure, I'm scared of making an idiot out of myself. And I'm still in denial that I'm even doing this.

  But this rush of adrenaline could be addicting. As could two pairs of handsome dark green eyes watching my every move and obviously wanting to be with me.

  Chapter 6 – Dante

  I was upset at Marino at first. Leave it to my little brother to fuck up a private VIP event, and my birthday at that, by letting in a complete stranger.

  But now that I see her, I have nothing to say but well done, brother. Let this girl in anywhere.

  She's standing on stage looking different from the other dancers. Sure, I've never seen her before, so that's a plus. So many dancers make their rounds from here to other clubs and back again that it’s rare to see someone new.

  But this girl’s also got a completely unique fucking look. More wholesome. She's sure perfected the innocent little girl look.

  The DJ cues Desire's music: Ariana Grande's "Dangerous Woman." Desire shimmies up the pole right away and amazes everyone by hanging upside down from it.

  There's an audible gasp from some of the customers. And I don't have to look at the regular girls to know they're either wide- mouthed or rolling their eyes right now.

  This woman's obviously a pro. She's almost too good to work at a place like The Fun House. We're known more for our back room VIP services than we are for the quality and fanciness of our dancers.

  "Where did she say she worked before this?" I ask Marino.

  "She didn't," he says.

  Typical. Leave it to Marino to forget to ask the important details.

  He sees the look on my face, and sneers.

  "Whatever. I wasn't exactly conducting a formal job interview. I'm sure she's from Scores or Double Diamonds."

  She slides down the pole and then gyrates her hips.

  I can't believe I'm going to get to see this chick naked. Yeah, I know that's her whole fucking job but she does it well. Acts like an innocent little doe and makes you think she's never even done this before. She's very convincing.

  My mind starts racing with the possibilities. Always the capitalist, I'm thinking about where this can take us.

  The Fun House can become a class
ier, more upscale joint. Maybe wherever this Desire chick is from, she has some dancer friends that are just as good as she is at this gig. They'd be able to make our regular customers spend even more fucking money. And we might get some new customers in from bigger surrounding cities too.

  But then Desire leans up against the pole and holds on to it as she spins around, showing me her ample ass. And I forget all about my favorite subject, capitalism. Because all I want to do is grab her and claim her as my own.

  She spreads her legs wide and walks her hands down the pole. She's showing off her hot ass for me. I think about fucking her in the ass with my big cock. She shakes it at me as if she's wanting me to do just that.

  Am I crazy or does she want me to fuck her? I know Marino told her it's my birthday, but I'm still surprised she's putting on such a good show just for me. I want to believe she wants me as badly as I want her.

  Then she proves to me that she does. She crawls across the stage to me, her perfect breasts spilling out of her tiny top. She sits in front of me and starts taking it off. Her tits come tumbling out at me, or maybe for me.

  She looks at me, as if inviting me to fuck her. Or maybe begging me.

  And I look at her in a way that lets her know I plan to do just that.

  Then I realize that this is going to be even a different kind of night than I'd ever expected. Because I look across the room and see that my brother is looking at Desire in the exact same way that I am.

  Chapter 7 – Marino

  Fuck. I’ve never seen anything as fucking beautiful as Desire dancing on stage.

  She’s the perfect package that every guy wants: innocent looking on the outside, with a sweet little face and a banging body, but clearly dirty as fuck on the inside. From the way she shimmies out of her little clothes to the way she gyrates her perfect curves, she has “fuck me now” written all over her.

  I almost wouldn’t believe she’s a stripper. But the way that she bends over and rubs her tits in Dante’s face shows me I’d be wrong. She’s definitely a pro.

  Dante whispers something into her ear, and she turns and looks at me.

  I shake my head at him.

  No fucking way.

  If he sends her over here to dance for me, I’m not going to be able to control myself. And that could be bad. Because this is his birthday, his special celebration.

  Sure, we’ve shared girls before. We share everything. Well, not our cocks— we keep those for the ladies. But if one lady wants both of our cocks at once, who are we to say no? We aim to please.

  But after Samantha, we had to make some rules. We can’t just go willy nilly gang banging every girl we see. Especially not girls who work at the club and who we’d have to be around a lot.

  Desire slithers her way across the stage and then she’s in front of me, her beautiful body on display for me instead of for my older brother, the birthday boy. My cock perks up, ready to pounce. I want to plow it deep inside her.

  But I can’t. And I’m mad at my brother for teasing me like this. He should know better.

  Fucking Dante.

  It’s not fair to ask me to just look and not touch.

  And that’s exactly what he’s asking me to do. I can’t fuck her because he’s going to fuck her. And because she’s going to work here.

  Of course she’s going to work here. We need fucking talent like this. Talent that looks like this. Moves like this. Makes us both want to fuck her like this. Even if it makes me want to be the only one— except for Dante of course— who can fuck her or even see her naked. That could be a real problem, since we need her to entertain customers as well.

  She’s lying on the stage with her legs spread in front of me, only a G-string covering her most intimate parts. Her face is caked with makeup and there’s glitter in her hair but she still looks like a fragile doll.

  I want to rip off her panties and lick her pussy while she wraps her legs around me. And then I want to squeeze her perfect ass while I fuck her.

  I stand up, so that Dante can see I have no intention of doing any of the many things that I want to do to her. He and I have a secret language allowing us to communicate just by looking at each other. If you’d gone through the same fucking shit together that we went through as kids, you’d understand.

  He smirks at me.

  What I want to do is lean over and spill a fresh wad of my cum all over Desire's tits. What I do instead is flick a fresh wad of dollar bills onto her tits, one at a time.

  “Hell yeah!” some of the guys sitting around the stage say.

  Some of them come over and start to throw money on Desire like I am. And just from the bills that I can see littering the stage, it’s a lot of money too.

  “Holy shit, it’s raining cash up in here!” shouts one of the strippers sitting at the tables surrounding the stage.

  “Woah, easy there,” another stripper chimes in. “Don’t want to spend it all in one place.”

  I know they’re jealous. And they should be. Desire is a whole new caliber of dancer than any of them are. She’s not only on par with Samantha, she’s better.

  The Fun House isn’t exactly known as a swanky joint. We’re more for the crowd looking for more mileage out of their money, for some extras in the back room.

  But if I know Dante— which I do— he’ll aim to change that now that Desire’s in our midst. He had already started working on it when Samantha was here. He raised the prices and the standards of lap dances as well as the prices and the quality of the drinks.

  Of course we had to fuck that up by thinking with our dicks instead of our brains. But not this time. This time I’m staying focused on money and I know that Dante is too. The Fun House isn’t our long term plan.

  We want to move on to bigger, better, and safer things. Because despite Dante’s best laid plans to make money honestly, we Rossi brothers are only capable of being so honest. And owning a strip club and all of the assorted vices that come with it is just asking to be taken down.

  We need to stay focused. And that means not letting our hearts— or our dicks— get in the way of our plans again.

  So I gently pull Desire up by her arm and then whisper in her ear as she’s leaning into me. I can’t help but grab her by the hair a little bit, teasing her— and myself— with just a taste of what I’d really like to do to her, if I could.

  “This is my brother’s birthday, and I told you to do something fantastic for him,” I tell her.

  I spank her ass, not hard, but hard enough for her to let out a surprised little “oww.”

  Fuck. She plays this innocent act so convincingly. As if she’d never been slapped on the ass by a guy she just met before.

  Although, I have to admit, I’m not just any guy. I know that what feels gentle to me is probably hard for a lot of guys. And what’s hard for me is impossible for most.

  “But he told me to come over here...” she starts to protest, looking back at me with those wide eyes.

  “I don’t care what he told you. Go over there and put on a good show for him. You dirty, filthy whore.”

  She looks at me like she’s offended that I called her a dirty, filthy whore. But she should know to take it as a compliment. Because that’s how I like them. Except I also like when they maintain an air of innocence. And that’s why I’m really liking her.

  “But what if Dante gets mad that I’m not listening to him?” she asks, and I swear she sticks her barely clad ass up in the air. I swear she wants me to spank it again. So I do.

  This time she doesn’t even flinch. A look comes over her face, as if she likes it, and she’s surprised that she likes it. Fuck, she’s good at this. What a convincing act.

  “Don’t worry about Dante,” I tell her. “You listen to me.”

  She nods like a little brat who needed to have that lesson taught to her and then she moves across the stage to Dante.

  But she flashes one more look back in my direction. And I wink at her. Because even though she’s about to per
form for Dante, I have a feeling that the show she’s putting on is really for me.

  Chapter 8 – Jessica

  Holy shit.

  I’d prepared for my audition and I’d even prepared myself for the variety of emotions I would probably feel while auditioning. Embarrassed, humiliated, shy, anxious, scared.

  But I didn’t expect some of the emotions I’m feeling now. Powerful, sexy, turned on.

  I didn’t realize it could be so exhilarating to undress in front of men willing to part with their hard-earned money just to see my naked body. I didn’t realize they would look at me with such lust and awe.

  And even though I knew the Rossi brothers were hot, I never expected to get such a rush over having both of them looking at me. Wanting to fuck me. And even, I’m pretty sure, fighting over me a little bit.

  I felt so naughty when Marino was spanking my ass. Naughty in a good way. I wanted more.

  And now I’m in front of Dante, who makes me feel just as dirty. I sway my hips and wiggle my body in my best attempt to be seductive.

  I guess that whatever I’ve been doing has been working. They seem to be buying that I’m actually a stripper. I lean forward and tease Dante with my breasts rubbing lightly over his face. He puts some bills in his mouth and leans forward to stuff them into my cleavage.

  “You have the most perfect tits,” he tells me.

  “Thank you.”

  I blush, then remember I have a role to play. I rub my breasts up and down his chest and then I say, “You make my nipples hard.”

  “I can see that,” he says. “Now let’s see something different. Turn around and show me everything.”

  Here it is, I think. The evidence I’m going to need for the committee.

  I turn around so that my ass is facing him. I bend over and let him get a really good look. I bet he might get up here on stage and try to have sex with me.

  But he doesn’t. He stays seated. And I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed.

  “I can see your pussy dripping wet for me,” he tells me. “Those little panties you’re wearing are barely covering it.”

 

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