The Final Quarter

by Anne Lange

  A receptionist at a dance club? Mitch let his wife lead him over to the door. She knocked and it opened. A big, burly guy held it wide so they could enter. One of the other couples he’d seen earlier stood at a short counter talking with a pretty young woman he assumed to be the receptionist. He and Serena held back until they were finished then she pulled him forward.

  “Tabitha, this is my husband, Mitch.”

  “Hello, Mitch. Your wife has already signed the two of you in and paid for the evening. We simply need your signature on this non-disclosure form, please.”

  He swung his head around to look at Serena. “Why would a dance club have a non-disclosure form?”

  “It’s not your basic dance club, honey. The form stipulates no cameras, no video and no discussing the location outside of the premises.”

  What the fuck? He didn’t understand, but his wife didn’t appear concerned. In fact, her eyes sparkled with excitement and she tapped her toe to the bass beat of the music bleeding through the walls. Though he’d noticed her hands were a little damp, so perhaps she had a case of nerves as well. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d gone dancing. Maybe she was simply looking forward to some time on the dance floor.

  He shrugged, deciding to go with it, figuring he’d have the answers he needed in a few moments anyway. Mitch signed his name and pushed the form and the pen back toward the young woman.

  “Thank you. I’ve given all the necessary instructions to your wife, so why don’t you two just head on upstairs? I hope you enjoy your evening with us.” She flashed them a bright smile and looked beyond his shoulder to where another couple had just entered and waited behind them.

  Serena grasped his hand and tugged him around a corner and down a short hallway that ended where a set of stairs began. They climbed up, the music growing louder with each step. They arrived at the top landing and were greeted by another young woman, this one standing in front of a pair of tall, wide doors. Everything—the wall, the doors, even the flooring—was done in a soft gray, with the exception of the shiny chrome vertical cylindrical handles on the doors.

  The music thumped from beyond them. A bouncer stood to the right, looking very imposing in his dark, double-breasted suit, white shirt and black tie, appraising each new arrival with a stoic expression. He cocked his head in Mitch’s direction. The skin between his eyes puckered and he narrowed his eyes. Then they widened in recognition. But he didn’t step forward for an introduction like most fans did. He simply nodded.

  Serena tugged on his left hand. “Come on.”

  The other woman opened the doors for them. “Your booth is in the far right corner.”

  “Thank you.”

  His wife led the way as if she knew exactly where she was going. Mitch just followed along, like a child being dragged by his mother, his mouth agape at the scene before him. Everywhere couples danced like in a normal dance club. But in this one, the emphasis was on sexy. And the stripper poles strategically placed throughout told a story of their own—as did the gilded cages with the topless women inside, swinging their boy-short clad bottoms side to side.

  The music, a sultry, sensual beat, encouraged women to be looser with their movements than they might typically be, which encouraged their partners to grind up against them, placing their hands anywhere they could reach. Nothing seemed to be off limits. The erotic sight certainly left an impression on Mitch.

  Serena stopped near a large, round booth that opened on the side away from the dance floor. A curved wall about shoulder height provided a certain amount of privacy to anybody sitting inside the booth. But it wouldn’t completely block the view of the person dancing around the pole that was also in there. There was plenty of room to get down and dirty without putting on a total peep show.

  Mitch swung his head toward his wife. He figured his eyes had to be as wide as his mouth right now. “Serena, what are we doing here?”

  What the hell did his wife have planned for him at a sex club?

  God, her husband looked sexy. Stunned as hell, but sexy. He always did, but tonight he’d dressed in crisp black dress pants and he wore a tight black polo shirt with gray piping. The soft cotton looked like an artist had painted it on. She wanted to dip her tongue along the grooves of his six-pack. Serena tugged him around the booth’s wall then pushed him down onto the bench seat. He uttered a little “Umpf.”

  Sweat trickled between her breasts. She’d thought she’d been nervous about going down on him in the bar, but at least that was under a table. She stifled a nervous laugh as she remembered the shocked look she’d caught on his face just as she’d slipped under the white linen. Smart move on her part bringing that along.

  But this time, there was no hiding. A short wall prevented other people from seeing…much. Her gaze swept the room. Couples danced suggestively everywhere she turned. The women in the cages danced for the voyeurs at the tables.

  And she was about to dance for her husband.

  And she’d never done this before.

  This was so different from the basic stripteases she’d done in their bedroom.

  She swallowed, her mouth dry.

  Okay, she’d practiced a bit last night in her hotel room, but she’d felt like a complete idiot—especially with no pole. And she certainly didn’t have the skill to fling herself around the damn thing or do all sorts of neat tricks.

  So, it would have to be a prop. Something she could lean on and twirl around. That she could do. She hoped.

  “Uh, Serena?”

  She leaned forward and pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh.”

  She waited for the current song to end.

  “But, honey—”

  “This is for you, Mitch. Hush. Let me concentrate.” Because she’d need to if she didn’t want to make a complete and utter fool of herself.

  The current song ended and Christina Aguilera and Blake Shelton’s Just A Fool came on. One of her favorite songs.

  She took a deep breath, forcing oxygen into her lungs, then she let it out. She counted out the first couple of beats. Then she bent at the knees and started to sway her hips gently side to side. As the words to the song began, Serena increased her hip action, creating a figure eight from left to right. She added her shoulders to the mix, dipping into each lean, then her head, moving in a nice, slow and sensual movement.

  She smiled at her husband and closed her eyes, throwing her full body into it as Christina started to ramp up the tempo. Serena got comfortable with the music and the feel of the pole at her back. I’ll just pretend it’s the two of us in our bedroom.

  She swayed and rolled, twisting her torso, thrusting out her hips, moving her body in a sexy forward-and-back motion. At the first true upswing in the beat, she reached behind and grabbed the pole with her right hand then just as the crest hit, she stepped back and swung around the pole, just the toes of her shoes on the floor.

  The first leap into something so out of her normal comfort zone left her feeling giddy.

  With the pole now between her and Mitch, she gripped it with both hands. She continued to rock, lifting each foot, taking tiny steps. With her body in full pendulum swing, she relaxed her knees and loosened her hands to slip down the brass as she lowered toward the floor. Then she came back up, letting the cool pole slide between her breasts. She pulled away, tipped up on her toes and twirled around the pole again, her skirt flaring out around her with the spin.

  Oh, my God.

  She dropped fast, spreading her knees wide. Closed them. Open. Closed and, with them tight together, she swung them to the right and popped back up to whirl around the pole again.

  This is fun.

  Just as Blake began his solo, she came to a stop with the pole at her back. She leaned forward, bending to touch her toes, grinding her ass against the pole, then she spun around, clutched the pole in her other hand, held tight, and leaned backward to let her head fall, her hair swinging in an arc behind her.

  I’ve never felt so sexy before.
r />   She released the pole and danced around it, moving toward her husband, back-stepping, then forward again. She teased him, leaning close to provide a glimpse down her top. She smoothed her hands up her tummy to lift her breasts, all the time jutting her body side to side in what she hoped to be sexy, sultry moves. Just as he reached out with his fingers to touch her, she spun away to face the pole again, holding it with her right hand, and let it ground her as she swung around it, once, twice then placed her other hand on it just as the music slowed and she dropped her ass to the floor, rose up to her toes and went down again.

  Serena threw her whole body into the music, into her dance, each word, each beat pulsing through her blood.

  Circling her ass in a sexy swizzle, she squatted again with her hands on the insides of her knees this time, and spread her legs. And judging by the widening of his eyes, he caught a quick peek of her other surprise.

  With the pole holding her up, she dropped down one last time until her ass almost touched the ground. She spread her knees once more, first a quick jerk to gift him with another glimpse, then a little slower, so he’d be able to confirm that what he’d seen was true.

  As the song came to a close, she strutted across the small space to straddle Mitch’s lap, ending with a final pelvis-to-pelvis grind and a naughty smile on her face.

  “Fuck, babe.”

  A shiver raced through her at the über low, raspy quality of his voice. She couldn’t recall hearing it sound so…raw…before. Damn. Arousal shot through her. Beneath the silk of her dress, her nipples pebbled into hard peaks, and had she been wearing panties, they’d have been sopping wet, considering that the dance she’d just performed may have turned her on more than it had her husband.

  “Did you like it?” Her breath came in gasps and she couldn’t be certain it was from expending energy.

  He grunted, grabbed her hips and tilted his to rub his cock against her pussy. Oh, yeah. He’d liked it just fine. And if he kept that up, she’d come all over his nice pants.

  Mitch placed a hand at the back of her head and pressed her close. Then, as though he couldn’t wait, he strained up and smashed his mouth over hers. He drove his tongue inside her mouth and consumed her. His hold didn’t relent—it tightened. She was trapped.

  But she had nowhere else she’d rather be.

  Serena twisted her body, pressing her chest as close to his as she could possibly get, trying to burrow beneath his skin if it were possible. God, I’ve missed this. Even though they’d been together only a few nights ago, it felt like much longer. Maybe because when she thought back to before, she noticed there was a problem, it had been weeks since they’d been truly intimate.

  Until now, she hadn’t realized they’d lost some of their passion along with whatever else was going on with them.

  Serena broke the kiss and pulled back so she could look at Mitch. When did we lose it?

  He pecked a kiss to her lips. “That was awesome. Sexy as all get-out. And now I’m horny as hell.”

  She giggled. “Well, you have a couple of choices. We can stay here and dance some. We can go to one of the private rooms. Or we can go back to my hotel.”

  The lights from the club cast glimmers of different colors over his face. Reds, blues and yellows danced across his skin, but he hardly took notice. Instead, his focus was on her.

  “Let’s dance.”

  “You sure?”

  He nodded and gave her a little nudge off his lap so they could stand. Then he took her hand and guided her out around the booth’s partition to the open dance floor. There he swept her around in a circle and into his arms where he held her nice and close—heartbeat to heartbeat.

  They swayed to the music. As they danced, Mitch rubbed his hands up and down her back, over her ass, where he’d pause and squeeze, then up and down her arms. He didn’t stop touching her.

  “Have I mentioned how awesome you look in this dress tonight?”

  “No,” she breathed.

  “But I have to say, I want to beat the crap out of every guy who dares to look at you.”

  “Nobody’s looking at me, Mitch.”

  He snorted. “Ha. That’s what you think, sweetheart. You fucking rock that dress, and from what they could see of that performance, I think the men, and probably even a few of the women, were turned on. Christ. I damn near needed a bucket of cold water thrown over me.” He tugged her even closer, and stuck his face into the curve of her neck. He licked a path up to her ear. “And, honey?”

  “Hmm?”

  “That’s twice now you’ve gone without panties.”

  She laughed, the sound low and rich even to her own ears.

  “But what I really want to know is when did you start shaving?”

  “Noticed that, did you?”

  He growled. He inched up the hem of her dress until she felt a draft of cool air across the bottom of her cheeks.

  She leaned back within the confines of his arms. “I didn’t see the sense of wearing any panties when I felt certain they’d only get all wet.”

  Mitch groaned and nipped her earlobe.

  “And I believed a change was called for. So, voilà. All bare, all for you.”

  He growled again and tugged her so close a flea couldn’t have gotten between their bodies.

  They danced to the next couple of songs, all slow and sexy, wrapped around each other and oblivious to everyone else in the club.

  She added a few extra swirling wiggles to her hips, using the opportunity to brush against his erection. Mitch sucked in a breath, the air hissing between his teeth each time. He vibrated—or was that her?

  When the current song finally ended, she gasped when he dipped her low and kissed her long and hard. She lifted her leg automatically and she knew she’d just flashed anybody who might have been looking, but she was so caught up in the lip-smacking kiss her husband was giving her, she couldn’t have cared less.

  “Let’s go.” He let her up, having to steady her.

  “Where to?”

  “You said there’s a room we could use?”

  She nodded. “I made arrangements with the owner earlier in case we wanted to use it. He said it’s very private.”

  “Okay, then let’s make good use of it.”

  He winked and she felt ten years younger.

  They walked back to the booth. She grabbed her purse and led him away from the dance floor and down a short hall where there were six doors. They stopped at the second door on the right. “We can have this room for a couple of hours.”

  He smiled at her. “Then let’s not waste a minute.”

  Serena turned the doorknob and opened the door. Mitch entered behind her and closed it. The lock clicked.

  A lamp on the night table lit up the room with a soft glow. A king-sized bed took up the majority of the space. A six-drawer credenza stood against the opposite wall, and a straight-backed chair and an ottoman were in the corner. It wasn’t what she had expected. There were two windows. The furnishings were heavy, dark. A smoke-gray paint dressed the walls. Crimson and black pillows adorned the bed covered in a red sheet with a black blanket folded lengthwise across the bottom. Only the muted bass of the music drifted into the intimate space.

  A basket full of condoms sat on the night table, a stack of towels on the credenza. A door opened off the wall where the bed rested, into a small, three-piece bathroom. A candle glowed in there.

  Serena walked over and set her purse on the credenza. “Well?”

  “Well.” Her husband had been standing near the door. Now he stalked her. The look in his eyes intense. His jaw hard. “Since you got me so turned on, I think you owe me.”

  She backed toward the bed until her knees hit the edge and she plopped down. As he moved in closer, she placed her hands flat behind her and leaned back.

  “I think you’re going to let me have my wicked way with you.”

  “Oh, really?”

  He nodded. “Take off your dress, Serena.”

  C
hapter Nine

  She rose from the bed and slipped her short mid-biceps sleeve over her right shoulder and down. Then the other, until she’d freed both hands. The tight-fitting material hugged her tits. She shimmied and wiggled until the scrap of silk lay in a puddle at her feet. She stood facing him in nothing but her shoes and a sexy grin.

  Serena had set up this scene, but Mitch intended to play it out his way. He waited for his wife to follow his instructions. The bass from the music vibrated through the walls around them. Two windows, no bigger than two by three, provided a glimpse of the stars. No traffic drifted up from the streets below. The sound of Serena’s heavy breathing, and his, filled the room.

  He walked over to the credenza and opened one of the top drawers. It held more towels, more condoms and some sample-size tubes of lube. The second drawer held silk ties in a variety of colors. Were these forgotten articles of clothing or tools of the trade? Didn’t matter, because it gave him an idea.

  Selecting a deep red tie, he closed the drawer and turned around to face his wife. “Hand me your dress.”

  She picked it up from the floor and held it out.

  Taking it, he nodded. “On the bed.”

  She sat with dainty grace.

  “Lie back.”

  She dropped back, but not flat. She held herself up on her elbows. Mitch toed his shoes off and yanked his shirt over his head. Placing both his shirt and her dress on the chair, he crossed back over to where his wife had settled and sat beside her on the bed.

  “I didn’t know you could dance like that, babe.”

  She uttered a soft laugh. “I didn’t either.”

  “I think we need to install a stripper pole in our bedroom.” He grinned at her. “So you can practice whenever you feel the urge. I’d be more than happy to offer commentary.”

  “I’m sure you would.” Her gaze darted down to his crotch then back up to his face.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on teasing you like you did me.”

  “The tease was part of the game tonight.”