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Drunk on You

Page 24

by Harper Sloan


  "How can you be sure? How can you sit there and know this won't happen again? How do you know that you--the man who holds his ability to control any and everything--will be able to trust me without question? What happens the next time I come to Dirty? Are you going to freak out and put up a wall between us again?"

  "No," I answer emphatically. "God, no. You have no idea, Nikki. What you said to me that night in my office, you struck something I've never even known I was capable of feeling. The only thing that scares me now is the thought that I might not have you by my side and in my life forever. I need you more than I could ever need my control. YOU are more important. I don't just believe it; I know with every part of me that without you, it won't ever matter how hard I work to keep control of my life because it won't be worth living."

  Her tears are coming faster now, her soft sobs feeling like a whip against my soul.

  "Let me show you," I beg, dropping to the floor and shifting on my knees to her.

  When I reach her chair, her legs open and I push between them before wrapping my arms around her waist and drop my head to her lap. I hug her tight with desperation and feel my own emotions winning when a huge sob shakes her whole body. My eyes grow damp the second she drops her hand to my head and runs her fingers through my hair. Just having her in my arms, when I had thought I would never feel this again, breaks the dam that had held me together for the past two days.

  I look up, not giving one shit when a tear falls from my eye, and hope to God she can see the truth in my eyes.

  "Let me give you all of me, mon amour," I plead. "Let me show you what you are to me. 1L'amour de ma vie," I continue. "Let me show you."

  She nods, her tears still falling.

  Standing, I reach down and take her own shaking hand in mine, pulling her to her feet.

  "Where's the bedroom, Nikki?" I ask, making sure I don't use the voice she's all too familiar with when we're together like we're about to be.

  A choppy breath comes out loud in the silence between us, her blue eyes brighter with her tears. She doesn't speak but also doesn't let my hand go as she leads us through the house. Her shoulders hunch slightly as she looks down at her feet. She might be giving me what I've asked, but I can tell she's still holding herself with an air of protection--maybe even preservation--wrapped tight around her. When we step into the large master, the room I had looked at knowing it would be perfect for the way I love to take her, I see it in a new light. The huge wooden frame bed, those slats I had thought would hold my ropes perfectly, now holding a new purpose. When I release her hand and move to stand in front of her, she looks up at me in confusion. I'm sure she had thought this would be different. If she's shocked now, she's about to have her jaw on the damn ground.

  Despite my earlier nerves, the only thing I feel now is pure, confident calm. I know this is the right thing to prove to her that my words are true. And with each layer of clothing that I strip from my body, baring myself to her, body and soul, I hope to fucking God that she can understand the magnitude and meaning behind this.

  After I'm completely naked, I stand and look at the woman who I'll be lost without and give her the one thing I have never willingly surrendered.

  My control.

  "Vous avez tous moi," I softly tell her. You have all of me. "There is nothing more important than that, mon amour. Every single inch of me. Inside and out. Body and heart. My control and trust. It's all yours, Nikki."

  Her shuddered breath hitches, and she clutches her chest.

  "I'm yours," I continue. "It's up to you what you do with me now."

  Then I look down and wait for the rest of our lives to begin.

  "Shane," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "You ... we've ... you've never let me have you like this."

  "No one has because no one has ever had my complete trust until now. Do you understand what I'm saying, Nikki? I trust you. I trust you with all that I am. All I've ever needed. There will never be a moment in my life when I don't need you more than my desire to control everything. Take me, take us, and please give me another chance to be worthy of your love."

  "Oh, Shane," she hiccups through her crying.

  Then she's in my arms and her mouth is on mine, taking what I'm offering.

  We fall to the bed, her body landing on top of mine and our kiss never breaking. It's hungry, but not in the frantic need that has always been hinting the edges of our lovemaking. No, not this time. This time, we're starving to earn the last thing we hadn't shared before. This isn't just a hard fuck and mutual enjoyment. This is two people becoming something few ever find. Something I almost lost before even knowing I had it.

  We shared lust before.

  Now we share love.

  And fuck if it's not the most beautiful thing I've been too scared to believe I could find.

  She breaks the kiss and pulls away to yank her top up and over her head. Her tits fall free, and I groan when I realize she didn't have a bra on. She wiggles against my lap, and I grunt, my cock needing her.

  "Why don't you touch me?" she questions breathlessly.

  "You haven't told me to," I answer instantly, and the second I see my meaning hit the mark, a new burst of pleasure rushes through my body. Fuck. Never had I thought giving her control of our sex could be more powerful than what we already shared.

  "Shane? I don't ..." she trails off when I lift my hands and grasp the wood slats above the pillows. "You're serious?" she gasps, wiggling off my lap and staring down at me while I continue to give her this part of me.

  "I'm yours."

  "Shane," she cries softly.

  "Please take me, mon amour. Take me and please let me have the gift of you. I will never take advantage of your trust again, and I will always give you mine. From this moment on, we're equal in everything."

  She's crying even harder now, but she still removes the worn sleep pants she had on, climbing back on my lap and looking down at me with her hands bracing against my chest. Her tears fall on my skin and burn a path across my chest. When she lifts one hand and wraps it around my cock, my breath hitches. Then she feeds my cock into her body with a painfully slow glide down. When she's seated fully on my thickness, she loses the ability to keep her emotions somewhat in check and starts rocking and crying, never looking away.

  "Je t'aime," she gasps, her whole body shaking as she continues to cry, only now she's smiling the biggest grin down at me. "I love you," she repeats. "I love you so much it hurts."

  "Je t'aime, mon amour. Je t'aime."

  There's nothing rushed about how she makes love to me. Our bodies taking until it feels like a part of her has filled the part of me that I hope to fuck she feels filling her heart. We might not always have perfect, but I know the second she breathes out her release and collapses on my chest--my cock emptying inside her--that there isn't anything we can't conquer together.

  One thing's for sure: I'll make sure there will never be doubt to her or anyone that what we share is as real as it gets.

  * * *

  1 love of my life

  A YEAR LATER

  "IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT," I YELL at Ember, my drink sloshing over the edge and covering my wrist when I start bouncing up and down. She lets out a little squeal of her own. I'm sure we look like two ridiculous girls, jumping in our heels and making these noises, but I couldn't care less.

  "I can't believe this is my first Filthy night!"

  "I can, little mama." I laugh. "You've been incubating a human. It's your own fault for making such perfect little girls that demand you sit there and stare at them at all hours of the day."

  I'm only half joking too. Ember and Nate make the most beautiful girls. I secretly hope he gets his wish, and she's preggers again soon because she takes care of the baby fever any woman creeping closer to thirty feels just by giving me more goddaughters to spoil. Brookie--or Brooklynn Nicole--had me wrapped around her little finger the day she was born. Which, really, is no different than her older sister. I'm a sucker for th

e little Reid girls.

  "Perfect or not, I'm done having babies for a long time."

  I snicker, tapping the side of my glass against hers. "Yeah, right. I give it another six months, tops, before Nate has his way again. Especially if you keep coming to Filthy nights."

  "Don't put ideas in his head, Nicole!"

  I throw my head back and laugh. "I don't need to. Trust me, Em, you might just end up pregnant watching the show tonight."

  I can tell she doesn't believe me, but if you've never witnessed the hot factor of these guys getting Filthy for one night, well ... you've never seen hot. Over the past year, I've been to every single one when Shane danced. He and Nate decided that, being the biggest draw dancer-wise, the best thing to do was to dance once a month. This was the only time our guys got up there now. They no longer participated in the regular night spotlight dances on the main bars either. With Dirty bigger than it's ever been, they've been able to hire even more staff, and in turn, dedicated managers who took over all of the grunt work both of them had gotten tired of doing. They're still here but in a much more relaxed capacity.

  Lewis, though, who I now get bi-weekly mani-pedis with, got his very own office and promotion to full-time lead in that department. Shane, after learning from his issues with Lacey, wasn't taking any chances and amped the security here up to levels that rival the Secret Service on nights like tonight when I want to watch my man dance. He does the same for anyone else he considers his personal VIP, though, so it doesn't bother me in the least. It's just the type of man he is. He's let up a lot in the ways that he executes his control, but this is one that I can't fault him on. He wants those he loves safe, and I will always admire and respect that about him. Thankfully, Lacey hasn't even been a thought since that night. When I got back in town from our stay in the mountains, I followed his lead and filed for my own restraining order. Once those were filed, her father yanked her back home to Athens faster than you could say cheap hoe. In the end, we both got our exes out of our lives and won the greatest gift of all.

  Each other.

  "It's almost time, ladies. You'd better go get to the stage and beat the rush so Lewis doesn't have a heart attack trying to get y'all there," Dent yells over the bar, winking at us both.

  I turn, my long hair fanning around me, and smile at Ember. "Are you ready?"

  Her own grin is huge. "How close to Nate's Lollipop dance is this?"

  "Another universe, Em. Doesn't even come close," I answer, thinking back to the very dance that Nate created as a spotlight regular meant to make his wife melt.

  "Oh, my."

  "You have no idea!" I start moving, patting Lewis on his big beefy shoulder when we get to his side. "Let's go, you big giant!"

  He shakes his head but starts walking. The path clears for him with no effort on his part. He just moves, and people get the heck out of dodge. I'm laughing like a loon the whole time. I'm not sure why it's so funny to me, but I'm not complaining since the big guy gets me to the two main stage's with no trouble and ensures I have a front row spot. He moves to the side after we reach the stages edge and I take his spot, pushing Ember a little toward the other one so that we're both in the middle of the two of them, ready and waiting. I look over my shoulder to see Lewis standing with his back to us, arms crossed, just daring someone to get close. On nights when I'm here to watch Shane, there is never a woman who can get close to me--of course, they can still get close to him from other parts of the round stage, but it's not like he's ever got eyes for anyone but me. And I get drunk off the high of watching him.

  Now--a year plus of being together--not even a sliver of doubt exists in his mind when it comes to how I feel about his dancing. I've shown him over and over how hot it gets me after each Filthy night I watch from this very spot, and tonight will be no different.

  They've made a few upgrades to Filthy night, so when I see the tiny green light at the stage's floor turn on, I know Shane's under there, ready to come up when the lights go black and the stage floor opens to allow him and all the other dancers to avoid walking through the club floor to take their spots. Huge upgrade that took closing the club for a month to build into the basement but so worth it.

  "Brace yourself, girlfriend!" I yell at Ember, the current song coming to an end but still loud. She looks just as excited as I feel, but she has no idea.

  Things are about to get Filthy at Dirty Dog.

  Placing my hands on the edge of the stage, I widen my legs and brace myself, knowing that in about thirty seconds, my man is going to make my knees weak.

  Women start pushing in around the stages. They must have realized how close to midnight we are. I bite my lip and wait, already feeling like I'm about to come out of my skin.

  Then the lights go black, and the room goes electric. My ears ring with the level of screaming around me. Then my palms vibrate as the stage floor starts to open, and I feel a whoosh of air come from the basement as the lift starts moving up, filling in the opening and giving Shane an enforced base to move on. I feel his eyes on me before the music changes and the spotlight illuminates him. The hypnotizing beat of Bando Jonez "Sex You" starts and a tingle lights a fire down my spine, heat shooting straight between my legs when I get my first look at Shane.

  "Holy hotness," I wheeze, my breath getting stuck, and my head spinning. As much as I'd love to see Ember's reaction to this lovely surprise, I'm not looking away from the warm, desire-filled brown eyes that are locked on me. He's wet. Not drenched, but you can tell he doused himself intentionally. The white T-shirt he's got on molded to his hard muscles like a second skin. However, when I finally look down from that eye feast, I see the one article of clothing he knows drives me insane. And I know this outfit was intentional.

  So.

  Very.

  Intentional.

  Gray sweatpants should be illegal.

  They're dangerous on any man, but when it's my man wearing them ... they're lethal.

  Especially when they've got just enough wetness from the water he must have dumped over his head to make them press even more firmly against the bulge between his legs. My eyes widen when that bulge twitches, and I shoot my eyes back up to his face. He's got one brow raised and that devilish smirk in place.

  Then he starts to move. His body becoming one with the slow and sexy rhythm of the song, his hands lifting his shirt up to tease the audience of screaming ladies with a hint of his hard abs. His eyes never leaving my face. I've seen my share of dancing from this very spot, but something about this one is even more filthy than normal. He usually keeps his dancing a little cleaner, but this ... my God.

  I moan when he drops to his knees, his crotch right in my face, and looks down at me with something sinful playing behind his eyes. He rotates his hips, thrusting as if he's making love to someone, and I pull my lip between my teeth. If he keeps this up, I'm going to die.

  Lightning quick, he tags my wrists and pulls my hands off the stage and places them against his abs, still rolling those talented hips of his. He glances over my head and gives a nod, but I'm too busy trying to figure out how the gray material is holding his cock down when he pulls my hands down and bares the root of his thickness to my eyes. My breath is coming in shallow pants. Good heavens above, he's not wearing anything under there. I know he won't go fully nude, they never do, but when he releases one hand and bares his ass for the women behind him, the screams pick up to unnatural levels. The front of his sweats slipping even more until my eyes feel like they're going to bug out when a good two inches of his cock is showing. I know it's just for me but not missed by those around me.

  However, before things can get dangerous for me at the floor of the stage, he moves again and hooks me under my arms, and I'm flying through the air when he stands and takes me to my feet on the stage with him.

  Well, this is new.

  He pulls us close, his erection hitting my stomach, and starts grinding against me. His hands moving down my back before taking my butt in his palms and lifti
ng me. I part my legs and hook my ankles behind his back. His hips pick up speed, his cock thrusting against my panties, and I drop my head back and hold on to his shoulders as he uses my body to finish his dance. When the last part of the sultry song starts winding down, he thrusts my hips down to his hardness and moves his hands up my back--keeping me secure in his arms--and forces me to look back at him.

  "Hey, mon colibri," he says with a breathtaking smile.

  "Hey, honey," I moan back.

  Then he takes my mouth in a soul-stopping kiss, the music ending and seamlessly transitioning into something else while the ladies around the stages get louder. All the while, he takes me to the heavens with one heck of a kiss, not even stopping when the hydraulics in the stage lift start taking us down to the basement together. The only thing I can feel and focus on is the man who owns my heart. I'm vaguely aware of Ember giggling when the crowd's intensity is drowned out by the door we just dropped down from as it closes again, but I'll talk to her tomorrow about what she thought of her first Filthy experience. If her own sounds of pleasure are anything to go by, though, Nate won't have any trouble getting another baby if he keeps bringing her to these.

  I keep my mouth glued to Shane, knowing he'll take care of getting us somewhere private. When he starts walking, his hardness hits my sensitive clit, and I pull my mouth from his and moan deeply.

  "Fuck me," he grunts, stopping for a second. I look down and see the passion in his eyes.

  "Get me to your office so I can show you how much I appreciate all things gray, baby, and do it quickly." I start licking and kissing a path up his neck, not needing him to speak, and start thinking of all the ways I'm about to do just that.

  "How did I get so lucky?" he muses before he starts rushing through the basement and up the back steps to his office. His heavy breathing the only thing I can hear past the roaring and pounding of my need. When he drops me to my feet, it takes me a second to realize where we are. I sway on my heels and look up at his handsome, strong face.

 
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