And besides them were the other usual suspects, bachelor parties and guys just out on their own for the night, lining up around the stage for a chance to look, but not touch.
On the stage, two girls were grinding against each other, pretending like they were going to kiss and then giggling coyly while dollars rained down on them from every direction. Derrick couldn't focus on them, though. Nor could he appreciate the barely-clad cocktail waitresses or even the moments when the mobsters seemed to be talking about something other than whether they could get the girls on stage to take off their clothes.
Instead, he was consumed by thoughts—and worries—of Jade.
The more time went by, the more he knew this wasn't right, that she shouldn't be here. He even had half a mind to blow their cover, walk back there, and take her home himself.
For Christ's sake, what was she thinking? Even if she wasn't going to dance, did she know the way these men were going to look at her? Like she was a piece of meat? Like she was just fodder for their next fantasy?
His fists clenched just thinking about it, and he gritted his teeth, trying to come up with a strategy. When she came out, he could just go to the truck and listen in to the bug he'd planted near the mobsters. But then he'd be leaving her here, defenseless.
Alone with these sexual vultures.
But then matters were out of his hands as she appeared from behind a curtain, dressed in sleek white stockings, tiny powder blue panties, and a matching crystal studded bra that highlighted the hourglass curve of her frame and her ample cleavage.
As if it hadn't been hard enough for him to not oogle her in the car on the way over, now she was dressed for nothing less than torture. His mouth watered just looking at her, and, unbidden, he imagined just how easy it might be to slide the fabric of her bra aside and take one of her nipples into his mouth and suck until she moaned his name...
Like a dancer, she walked through the floor, smiling at the men at each table like she was a natural. Like she'd been trained to be the stuff of fantasy. And she was. The Cinderella of the strip club.
And, just like a princess, she drew every eye in the room. It was as though the girls on the stage were forgotten, and nobody cared about anything but the beauty traipsing across the room and headed straight for the mobsters.
They noticed, too. While two guys bit their thumbs, the leader of the group summoned her over and rubbed his lap, inviting her to take a seat.
Derrick's jaw ticked as he watched her smile at them more broadly, almost sit down, and then get back up again.
Good. Hard to get. All she needs to do is keep that up and then...
And then what? He could avoid committing a homicide?
He tried to slide a little closer in the leather seat to see what was happening, but as soon as they were in earshot a girl with auburn waves of hair and a pretty, heart-shaped face straddled him. "You look lonely. Want some company? Maybe a dance?"
He glanced at the girl, barely noticing her, and shook her off. "What? No. I just—"
He almost pointed to Jade, but she was gone, the mobsters looking less than thrilled in her wake.
"Right, well, I'll be around Handsome."
She slid from his lap and Derrick craned around, doing his best to try and find Jade. Maybe she'd gone to get them drinks or—
"And now, it's our pleasure to welcome to the stage the very sexy Dai-sy." The announced called over a song with a heavy guitar beat, and then the spotlight was on the little break between mirrors, shining on straight blonde hair that cascaded all the way down to the stripper's firm, rounded bottom.
No, not the stripper's. Jade's.
"Fuck," Derrick muttered, then glanced at the mob guys who were already getting their wallets out and heading for the stage.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." he'd known this was a bad idea. Fumbling for his own wallet, he scrambled from his table and made for the stage as Jade strutted toward the pole.
Just stay there. Just don't—
She caressed the metal bar up and down, then wrapped a leg around it and swung in a little circle, her hair flying behind her in the breeze. As she gyrated and moved, he could think of nothing but those grubby men's hands on her, the way they bit their knuckles. The way they thought they could own her just like everything else.
He pulled money from his wallet and beckoned her over with it, and, dropping to her knees, she crawled across the stage toward him and his cock stiffened as he caught sight of her. As he imagined her doing this on the floor of his bedroom just before she took him into her mouth and...
"What are you doing?" she hissed when she finally reached him, then she whipped her hair behind her and shook her ass.
"We need to get out of here," he hissed back, and then stuck a twenty in her G-string.
"Have we been made?" she asked, glancing toward the security guard. The man made a motion for her to get the action going, and she offered him a tense grin.
"No, but there's another way to do this. Come on, let's go." He almost reached out to touch her as she turned to face the mobsters, but eh held back.
"You don't think that'd be suspicious? If we just left?" she asked.
"I think..." He rummaged in his wallet, then pulled out two hundred-dollar bills and waved them at the bouncer before stuffing them into the side of Jade's panties. He made a motion to the doorman for them to go, and the man nodded.
"Woah, big spender," the announcer called, then continued, "Next to the stage, we've got the glamorously sexy Cry-stal!"
"What the hell?" she asked, but this time he really did grab her arm and lead her back to one of the curtained off rooms, free from prying eyes.
"We're doing things my way now."
"And what's your way involve? Getting us both killed?" she spat, but then he drew the thick black curtains closed, spun around, and kissed her as hard and as deep as he could.
Chapter 6
His kiss consumed her. Commanded her in a way she’d never felt before.
This wasn’t the chaste kiss of a man who didn’t know where he stood. Nor was it the overly tender kiss of an admirer.
This was all need, all passion, and before she could process how to feel about who and what and where she was, she was responding to him, breathing in his earthy masculine smell. Wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him closer to her aching breasts.
But no.
This was Derrick, Derrick Archer, her best friend. Her partner.
And more than that, was this how she wanted things to be between them? If she was going to be with him—and she definitely wasn’t committing to that one way or the other—than did she want it to be now? When she was barely dressed and in the middle of a strip club?
She stepped back, then stumbled and fell onto the U-shaped leather couch behind her. It was buttery soft, and she leaned her forearms on the fabric to catch her fall, and then to catch her breath.
A single Edison bulb hung from the ceiling, but the light was enough for her to see the hunger in Derrick’s dark eyes. Enough for her to make out the way his jaw ticked as his gaze raked over her.
“What’s going on? You’re going to get us—“
“I don’t care.” He bit the words out one by one, like each was harder to say than the last.
“But—“
“I don’t care,” he said again, and then she noticed the way his hands were clenched at his sides, his knuckles white.
“Derrick—“
“I want you.”
She felt like the wind was knocked out of her. Slowly, she stared back at this man—her friend—and took in the way he stared at her chest, at the tiny silk panties covering her from his view.
A jolt of awareness shot through her and for an instant she wanted to spread her legs apart, let him get a better look at her panties, let him imagine what was underneath.
With a quick glance, she flicked her gaze to his crotch and assessed his hard arousal. There was no denying it was there, long and hot and waiting for
her.
Derrick.
“I don’t know what to say,” she choked out.
“Don’t say anything.” He took a step toward her, then settled onto the couch beside her. Leaning closer, he wrapped a tendril of her hair about his finger and then cupped her neck, bringing her closer to him.
She could feel the heat of his minty breath on her cheeks, and instantly her eyelids fluttered closed and she readied herself to taste him again. Too quickly, all thought of Zac, all thought of their jobs, all thought of the strip club was disappearing. They were just a man and a woman in a darkly lit room with nobody to interfere. Nobody to see.
She didn’t care about the clink of glasses or the sound of the raunchy music on the other side of the curtain. She only cared about the way his hand scorched the back of her neck, of the way his touch made her scalp tingle, her toes curl in anticipation.
He was only a millimeter away now. His lips would be on hers any second.
“Derrick,” she breathed.
“Yes?”
“What if everything changes?”
“I fucking hope it does.” And just like that, his mouth found her again.
His kiss was soft at first, then harder, deeper, and before long his tongue coaxed her mouth open so that he could taste her further, so he could push and pull along with her until she whimpered for more.
Whether she was shaking from anxiety or pleasure she didn’t know. All she could say for certain was that she didn’t want it to stop. That this man, who was her friend—her best friend—was making her feel like no man had ever made her feel before.
And it was pure, unadulterated bliss.
Before long his mouth found her neck and he sucked the hollow below her ear until she arched into him, wrapping her arms around his back and dragging her nails lower so he could feel her pleasure.
He groaned softly, kissing her deeper and licking his way down to her collarbone and back again.
Come on, she wanted to say. I want you. Please.
But she couldn’t bring herself to end the foreplay, either. Convinced somewhere in the back of her mind that the second she pulled away their senses would return to them and she’d be forced to turn him down. To never feel his thick need inside of her.
Still, the urge to feel his skin was too strong to ignore. With a quick pull, she tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. Then, just as quickly, she wished she hadn’t.
How had she never noticed that Derrick had a body like that before? How on Earth had she been walking around side by side with this man who looked like he’d been chiseled from marble?
His rippled muscles shone in the dim light and as he bore down on her again, she had to fight the urge to push him back so that she could stare at his impressive form.
“Jesus,” she whispered, but he didn’t hear her. He was too busy burying his head in her hair, trailing another row of kisses all the way down her neck until he reached the top of her cleavage.
He kissed the small space just above her breasts, then looked down at the clasp of her front-closing bra and up at her face. Heat rose to her cheeks and she knew what he was thinking, what he was asking.
Shakily, she gave him a single nod.
Then, just like that, his teeth were on the clasp pulling it down over her breasts, her stomach, until it snapped and she was laid bare to him, the thin scrap of her panties the only thing keeping her from complete nudity.
Derrick reared back, then in a throaty voice, he said, “You’re fucking gorgeous. Nobody deserves to see you like that. Nobody but me.”
She blinked, not sure what to say, but just as quickly the moment had passed and his hands were on her chest, tweaking one nipple between thumb and forefinger while he took the other into his mouth and sucked.
His teeth scraped over her sensitive cherry tip, and she shivered, arching into his chest, willing him to travel lower or, at the very least, to pull his pants away and let her see what she was longing for.
But no. Instead he focused on pleasuring her chest, massaging her breasts with his palms and flicking her stiff pink peaks until she wondered if a woman might be capable of coming without a man going anywhere near her vagina.
But no, it wasn't enough. She needed more. Needed him to feel the raising ache between her thighs, to quell the need that was quickly becoming rapturously insistent.
"Derrick," she gasped, and he looked up at her, one dusky nipple still between his lips, and smiled.
Just like that, her heart melted and she writhed beneath him, giving over the last shreds of doubt until her hands were buried in his hair, following him as he moved lower still, to the space she was longing for him to explore.
“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes rolling back in her head as his rough fingertips caressed the insides of her thighs.
"Derrick, she rasped his name again, and then the thin fabric was sliding down her thighs, past her knees, past her calves, and a cool rush of air filled the space between her legs.
She parted her legs easily, and though she waited for the warmth of his touch to consume her again, it didn't.
Instead, he paused, gazing down at her like she was the most beautiful piece of art he'd ever seen.
"Is everything okay? If it's too fast we can--"
He held up his hand. "Everything is perfect," he said. "I just have no idea how you were in front of me this entire time and I never saw you. I must be the biggest idiot in the entire world."
Heat rose to her cheeks, and then his fingers were trailing along the inside of her thigh, back and forth from her knee to the space she longed for him to touch. With every stroke, he got closer, teasing her until she rocked into his hand, begging for him to make his move.
"I've never seen a more beautiful woman in my entire life," he said, and then, finally, his thumb flicked over her sensitive bundle and he added, "Or a more beautiful pussy."
She moaned as his finger traveled lower.
God, who knew a single finger had the power to make her body convulse and fall apart? That a single touch would have her squirming for more, have her breasts aching to be touched again, to be savored.
"It's so pink and pretty. And wet." He pushed a single finger inside and she gasped, careful not to scream.
"Oh, Jade, I'm going to need to have you again. Somewhere we can be alone. Somewhere where I can hear you begging for my cock."
"I..." she tried, but no words came out. Her head was too fuzzy to string them together. It was simply too filled with him. With what he wanted. With what he might do next.
With when he'd finally poise himself over her and take her.
But then, if this was what a single finger did to her, what would happen when she had all of him? When he was buried to the hilt?
She could only imagine that she'd become completely and utterly undone. And still, she couldn't bring herself to mind.
Without another word, he lowered himself to her sex, lavishing her with his tongue up and down until she bucked against him. A fresh rush of heat rolled over her sensitized skin and his hands pressed into her hips, she rocked against his mouth, willing him to taste her deeper, to circle her clit. To suck. To have it all.
"I need, I need," she gasped but the words wouldn't come. "Derrick," she tried again, but then his mouth was on her sensitive bud at last and, just as quickly, he thrust a finger inside of her and she splintered apart, thrusting against him as he moved in and out. She wanted more, wanted everything, and still the world was falling apart around her.
With one hand she caressed the back of his neck and with the other she tried her best to hold on to the sofa, the floor, anything that might tie her down to reality.
She closed her eyes tight, as another roll of pleasure washed over her body and she whimpered, needing him more than ever before. Maybe if she could just get him to sit back, get him to let her pleasure him, she could get ahold of herself. Or maybe she should stop all together.
But no, it was too good to ever think of st
opping.
"Jade," her voice was a deep rumble and she felt the burst of his breath against her skin.
"Yes?" she whispered.
"I'm going to take you now," he said, and then he was standing in front of her, unzipping his pants and pulling a condom from one pocket. Slowly, he rolled the rubber over his impressive length and she shivered just looking at him. She'd never been with a man that big before. Hell, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been with a man at all.
"I'm..." She tried to find the words. "I'm scared it might..."
"I'll be gentle with you. Don't worry, love."
Hearing the words alone was enough. She relaxed against the cushions, waiting eagerly for him. For the weight of his body against her chest. For the heat of his flesh against her own.
But when it finally came, it was even more than she could ever have imagined, like an sizzle of electricity passed over her with every inch of his skin, overloading her circuit board until she shook and shivered and writhed.
“Yes,” she hissed, and then he took himself in hand and teased her opening.
“Jesus, you’re so wet for me.”
“Just for you,” she whispered, and he cupped her chin again, pulling her into another long, deep kiss as he slid into her waiting heat. Inch by inch, she stretched to accommodate him, but even with his length she was surprised that it didn’t hurt.
Far from it, every little bit of him ratcheted up her pleasure until her toes curled and she spread her legs wider, needing to feel him as deeply as he could go.
“Derrick,” she sighed his name against his lips and he answered with another stroke, this one even deeper than the last.
“Oh, oh,” she choked out, and he smiled against her mouth as he kissed her again, taking her bottom lip between his and nibbling ever so gently. She swept her tongue out to greet him and he answered in kind as he pushed into her again and she arched her back into him.
He was so hard, so deep, and she longed to hold onto this moment when she could take in every little inch of heat, of breath, of passion. Soon, she knew, it would be gone, swept away by her need to feel him harder and faster, by a reckless abandon that was already building inside of her and threatening to consume her whole.
Sworn to Be His (The Archer Family Book 3) Page 5