“Yep, last year before a recital at a place I used to teach at, I saw her. My dad has like three pictures of her before she ran off; I would have known her anywhere with how many times I stared at those. So there she was, at a recital. She even looked at me and had no clue who I was. I mean, dead at me, and asked me to help fix her daughter’s hair. Her daughter’s hair. I have a sister. A sister who probably has no clue who I am. Anyway, after that night, I went on the computer at the studio and found her address, her now married name, and drove by a couple times. I just wanted to see. I don’t know what or why… One day, she was outside doing yard work and a nest was in the tree in the front. She just knocked it down, not a care in the world if an egg fell, or a mother was losing a baby. Just like she did to me. For so long before that day, I thought it was me, that I wasn’t good enough. But it’s not. It’s just her; she isn’t nice. The next day, I told my dad I wanted a nest. Now it’s a constant reminder—just because someone throws you away doesn’t mean you’re worthless.”
“Does Lock know?”
“God no. I love him, but he’s not the best with feelings. I spent the better portion of my childhood thinking fuck was a regular word and you smash something when you get mad.”
“I still write and sing. I have thirty tracks, and one day, I’ll make an album again, but I’ll never tour.”
“Why not?”
“You know the saying ‘sex, drugs, and rock and roll’? Well, they are all the same, and go hand in hand in my mind. And tours are even worse—it’s that life but on constant repeat without reprieve. That’s why I wont do it—or live in LA or New York. I know you can get drugs anywhere, but I think those are where my triggers are buried.”
She wraps her finger around my thumb ring. “My dad called me a stripper.”
“What?”
“When I told him what I was doing, he said I was a stripper and he wasn’t going to support me. That if I left, I was done.”
“Damn.”
“Can we end this game? It’s too deep right now.”
“Whatever you want, Naomi.” And for the first time, in what seems like forever, I’d do whatever another person wanted—she wanted.
On the table, my phone starts ringing. Lock in big bold print stares up at me. Naomi shrugs as I swipe to answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, have you seen Naomi?”
She shakes her head, pleading with me. “No. She sent me a text earlier saying she wasn’t going to make it today.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Nah, it’s okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yep, she’s not answering. Let me know if you hear from her.” Before I can agree, he hangs up. I look into Naomi’s eyes and recognize her silent thank you. She already knows I’ll protect her at all cost and even lie to the first person I shouldn’t.
Chapter 3
“You going to tell me why you dragged me to some cheesy club on a Thursday, X?” Callum, my former bandmate, asks. The only one I still talk to.
“I’m helping out a girl who works here. Figure I’ll see her in her element and maybe that’ll give me some ideas on how to do that.”
“A girl? She hot?”
I shrug. “She’s okay, I guess.” She’s so much fucking more than okay, more than anyone else. After the talk at the yogurt place, she’s opened up, giving me more insight into who she is. And everything I see leads me to liking more. Last night she called and was stranded at a party. I offered her a ride, and the next thing I knew, we were parked and talking. Another game of fact and question and more stolen touches.
I knew I couldn’t not come here tonight.
“She’s gotta be more than okay if she got you in this place. The chairs do make me feel like a king, though.”
They do, the whole place does really. Black curtains line the walls while old-school chandeliers hang from the ceiling. Each chair is covered in crimson velvet just like you’d expect on a damn throne.
“Back to this chick…what’s the deal?”
“It’s complicated. I’m helping her out.”
“Scale of one to ten, how complicated? Because you can’t do that.” He adjusts in his seat, staring at me, dead serious. Callum has seen me at my worst, and my best.
“Ten, but not like that.”
“Then what is it like? You’ve been sober for three years. You can’t fuck it up over a piece of ass.”
“Two years.”
He shakes his head, annoyed at me for not counting the first year, but I can’t. “It’s three. Even if you won’t count rehab, I do. Shut the hell up and tell me.”
I groan then take a sip of my club soda. “Do you remember Lock?”
“Of course, he’s the one who fixed my bike.”
“You know he has a daughter?” My voice drops low. This is wrong. On so many levels, wrong.
Callum narrows his gaze and his face tightens. “Shit, X. Tell me you didn’t fuck some fourteen-year-old.” His tone is challenging.
“Jesus, no! What do you take me for? I’m not a fucking child molester. He had her when he was seventeen.”
“That makes her what then?” he questions.
“Nineteen—she turns twenty in a few weeks.” Hell, when I say it out loud, it does make me seem like I should be locked up.
“What’s the problem then?”
“The problem is I was there when she was born, her dad is the oldest friend I have, and used to beat up the assholes who’d try to steal my lunch money. I fell into her birthday cake when she turned nine because I was so high at her fucking party I couldn’t stand up straight. Eighteen-year age difference. The list goes on.” And on and on.
“What’s her name?”
“Naomi.”
“It seems to me if you have a list that long, you shouldn’t touch her.”
“Me too.”
“And you haven’t gotten laid in years, so it could just be that you’re horny.”
“That too.”
“Or, it could be this is the girl to dip your toes into before really dating someone your own age. I’m sure it won’t go anywhere. Good fucking. In my experience, the young girls can do things not many people can.”
“She’s leaving at the end of August.”
“That gives you what? A little less than two months? Go for it. Just keep it away from everyone and don’t let Lock know. I think he’d kill you. You sure he isn’t in an MC? His arms are as big as my legs.”
“No, just a big-ass guy with some tattoos who happens to ride a bike.”
“Do it.” Callum says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
If only.
“Naomi may not even like me. We have fun and she flirts with me, but I could be creating shit in my head that doesn’t exist. I’m not that out of tune but she’s young. Flirting may come with the territory.”
“Just feel her out. Go from there. Now, this place is unique, I’ll give it that. But what does she do, sing?” He glances around, and before I can answer, the lights dim and a man walks out onto the stage in a full suit with a black top hat on.
“Good evening, and welcome to Betty’s Burlesque. We have a treat for you tonight. Our three favorite girls are here to give you a story of lust, longing, and love. Now drink, interact, and enjoy. Without further ado, welcome Trix Trio to the stage.”
Callum moves, eyes lighting up like he’s hit the jackpot. “A fucking strip show. Score.”
“Don’t.” My teeth grit as I speak. I’ve done my research since Naomi mentioned this; it’s not a strip club. They have a story, songs, and just dance in fucking awesome costumes.
“If you say so.”
I open my mouth to fight him, but shut it instantly when Naomi steps onto the stage. She’s wearing a red corset to fit her curvy figure, pushing her chest up, and black, ripped fishnets showing every damn inch of her legs. Her makeup is flawless, hair curled like she walked right out of the forties, red lips screaming my name. Sh
e’s a perfect pin-up girl. This image of her is immaculate and will be ingrained in my mind forever. My eyes travel down her body, and Lord…I spot another tattoo poking out just over the tip of her ass, teasing, calling to me.
Fuck me.
Callum smacks my arm. “Shit, that’s her?”
I nod, because any other bodily function is gone when she lets out the first note of a song.
Song after song.
Dance after dance.
I could come and see this show every damn day of my life, and if Naomi’s in it, the storyline would be useless. My eyes glued on only one person. One girl, who at this point, is moving her body over to me, singing something about releasing lust.
Naomi ignores everyone but me as she sits on the corner of my chair, and with every breath she takes, her tits inch closer to my face. Her tongue swipes over her bottom lip before she sings more. I wouldn’t have thought she could move like this, something I get a feeling she only does when she’s on stage, something I would give my left nut to have done to me in my bed just once before I die. Years of dance have paid off.
She drops down onto my lap, her legs spread apart on mine. That damn velvety voice moves straight into my ears and rolls down my body. “You know just how to affect me, love me like you did,” she sings out.
Naomi’s verse is over, and another girl starts hers, but Naomi doesn’t get up. She stays on me like glue. Grinding all over my lap, like we don’t have an audience. Nothing has ever felt so damn good, so fucking right. My cock grows painfully in my jeans, begging to be inside her.
Naomi throws her hair over her shoulder and her eyes lock with mine.
She tosses me a wink, a smile stretching across her perfect lips as she feels me on her ass.
It’s me and her.
No one else.
Naomi leans back against my chest, brings the microphone to her mouth, and whispers, “Bang, bang.”
And with that the place goes pitch black.
No one can see a damn thing. And people scream for more.
When I don’t think my dick could get any harder, her hands trail my stomach, moving down my pants. When the tips of her fingers graze over my dick, her breath hitches. She hits my first piercing and my chest rises rapidly as my heart beats hard against it.
I move my hands over her body—I wish there wasn’t anything between us—no clothes, no people, just us and bare skin fused to each other.
Her hand circles around my dick, gently moving up and down. My fingers rub over her pussy, the wetness shocking me.
Jesus Christ.
My hips involuntary move in sync with hers, and the sound of her moans fills our little universe. “Jesus, X…this isn’t part of it, I promise. We have about two minutes left ‘til the lights come back on,” she bites out, just loud enough for me to hear.
I bring my mouth up to her ear and say, “Do you want me to stop?” My voice comes out throaty, but I move my fingers faster against her clit, while my lips trail down her neck.
Her head shakes as she trembles against me, losing it completely in my arms. Naomi’s hand wildly moves across my dick, her hand hitting just right on my piercing to make my knees shake. Searching for my own release, I tilt my mouth to hers, and we have our first soul-crashing kiss as I cum like I’ve never done before.
“Shit,” I curse.
“Damn,” she whispers before tossing a napkin to me to clean up. She places a peck on my lips before shuffling off me just in the nick of time.
“And this is not a strip club? Because if not, you’re one lucky son of a bitch,” Callum remarks with humor in his voice.
“Did that really happen?”
“It did.”
“This is why I can’t be with her, she makes me feel things like this. Where I don’t give a shit about anything but her.”
“And I think it’s the same for her.”
She comes back on stage, in a different outfit, her face flushed, while avoiding me.
Shit hit the fan, and things took a turn past complicated with one hand job.
Chapter 4
I should’ve left with Callum, but when I spotted her Jeep in the parking lot, I knew I had to wait. This can’t turn awkward, not now. Not when I finally want to dive into something.
“Hey, X.” She’s hesitant stepping toward me, fresh faced and her outfit changed back into her normal cutoffs, tank top, and sandals on her feet.
“Hey.”
With each second that lingers between us, the tension grows.
“Listen—”
“About—”
We speak at the same time.
“You go.”
“No. You can.”
Naomi pulls her bag higher onto her shoulder, hopping back and forth on her feet. “Okay, I’ll start. I don’t know what happened. I’ve never done that, never wanted to do it. But when I saw you there, staring at me…something came over me. I can’t explain it, I just couldn’t…” She glances away, her hands shaking. “Listen, I get it if you want to forget about it. I can do that…if that’s what you want.” Her voice is steady, not giving anything away.
“I don’t want to stop.”
Her eyes snap up to mine, and a slow grin pulls on her lips. “You don’t?”
“Hell, no. That back there was the fucking highlight of my month—hell, probably my whole year.”
Her smirk moves to a full-on smile. “Mine too.”
We stare at each other. “Want to come over to my house? I can cook some mean eggs.”
“I’d like some eggs.”
“You have to drive, my friend brought me here.”
“That I can do.”
Naomi peers out my living room window; she didn’t speak the whole drive here. “Should we get our expectations out the way?”
“Mmm. If you want.”
Shaking her head, she lets out a small giggle. “I mean, this isn’t really safe for us…my dad…your shit. Can we keep this just between us? I like you, and I think you like me.”
“That I do.”
“Now that that’s settled, I’m leaving in two months and I want to have fun.”
“But not be committed to someone from here,” I finish for her.
Her brows pop up. “Exactly.”
“Let’s do this.” My hands go around her waist, gathering her into me. “We’ll have fun, leave the rest up in the air. This is between us. No one else.”
“Secret sex. I like the sound of that.”
“Who said anything about sex? I fucking love your hand jobs.”
“Oh, God. Please don’t bring that up. Ever. I can’t believe I did that.”
“Hell no, I’m going to remind you of that over and over. It was hot.”
She turns around, locking her arms around my neck. “It was kinda hot.”
I bring my face down, whispering against her lips, “Fucking burning.”
“Scorching,” she answers back before our lips meet.
Our fingers paw at each other, tearing off her tank top. Her tits, now on display, pour out of her black bra. Both her nipples have a damn barbell in them. “You’re pierced?”
“Like two peas in a pod.”
I grab both of them, toying with the bar in each hardened nipple, feeling her inhalations getting slower each time.
My eyes rake down her stomach. “Dammit, woman, between the tats and these, you’re gonna gut me.” I finish with a lick of each nipple.
“Do you want to see this one? I mean, the whole thing?” Naomi wiggles her brows, smirking at me.
“Fucking love to.”
“Then maybe you should take off my shorts.”
“I can do just that.”
“Stop the talking, and do it.”
With a flick of a button, her shorts are lost. I trail kisses all the way down her body, dropping to my knees, licking each glorious inch of her stomach, my fingers tracing over the curve of her ass. She opens her legs for me, and my tongue hits her bare clit.
“I
can’t stand, oh damn!” she screams out, her hands in my hair, holding on for dear life.
This is passion; this jolt between us has never happened to me. Fucking ever. I continue my assault, having to grip her harder to stop her from dropping to the floor.
Her legs finally stop shaking, and she lessens her grip on my hair. I glance up.
She’s glowing.
When I stand up, her hands fumble while unbuttoning my pants.
Wrapping my hand around my own cock, hoping like hell it relieves the pressure building inside me, I say, “I want to fuck you so damn bad.”
“Do it.”
I growl, hauling her over to my bed. My heart beats as I take in the glorious sight. Naomi shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be ready to slam my dick into her. It’s wrong and tomorrow I’ll deal with the consequences of it.
As I step forward, her legs spread open, waiting for me. I crash my lips down onto hers, my cock against her pussy. “Jesus, you’re so fucking wet.”
“Please tell me you have protection.”
“Oh, shit. I do.” I fumble with my jeans and pull out the string of condoms Callum gave me before he left.
I grip my dick, stroking the tip of the piercing right against her. “I could come just like this.”
One move and I’d be deep inside her. One slide and I’d be in heaven.
“Xavier, we can’t. Please…the condom.” Her pussy moving up and down my dick tells a different story, but she grabs it, stopping me from going any farther. “I know this feels fucking fantastic and even better with nothing. But…put the condom on. Or fun time is over.”
“Sorry…just damn.” When I’m this fucking close to her, her scent lingering in the air, her hands caressing me, and those damn eyes of hers lusting over me…all damn bets are off.
“I understand. Do you want me to put it on?”
“No, smart ass, I can do it.”
Rolling the condom on, Naomi’s hands play with her own tits, her gaze following every movement I make. I know right when she sees it.
Sitting up, her hand moves up and down the latex hitting the piercing right above my dick. “A piercing there too,” she mumbles to herself as she moves the hoop in and out.
Stolen Tyme Page 3