Two to Tango (Erotic Romance)

Home > Other > Two to Tango (Erotic Romance) > Page 22
Two to Tango (Erotic Romance) Page 22

by Strong, Mimi


  Duncan, still over by the car, called over, “Come out with us tonight! I know a great DJ who’s playing a party.”

  Gazing up into Charlie’s eyes, I said, “I have to work.”

  He leaned down to kiss me, but I turned away. I pushed in past Nick and kept running.

  ~

  Two hours later, Ladies’ Night was raging. We were at capacity, turning away women at the door.

  Men dancing for women is not the same as women dancing for men. I’ve talked to a few male dancers and compared notes. For us girls, we need to watch out for individual guys who are going to make trouble, or sometimes a pair of customers.

  For the male dancers, they need to keep an eye on the crowd—on rabid groups of women who get caught up in a frenzy of grabbing, pinching, and biting. The guys have shown me the bite marks on their tanned, toned buttocks. They’re not afraid of the women, but they do need to be cautious.

  That night, I was grateful for the excitement of the show, because I could turn my feelings off and just watch. As soon as I got a break, I used my phone to send a message to Eden, a dancer who’d just finished her last shift the day before.

  Me: Are you still leaving for Las Vegas tomorrow?

  Eden: I sure am. Is your hot little ass going to be in my spare seat?

  Me: I’ve got gas money. I don’t own a suitcase, though.

  Eden: Just throw your stuff in a garbage bag or two. That makes it easier to fit everything in the trunk, anyway.

  Me: I really could use a fresh start.

  Eden: I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. Is six too early?

  Me: Sounds fine. I’ll just stay up after my shift and pack.

  Eden: Las Vegas! You won’t be sorry!

  I tucked away my phone, wondering if Charlie would understand. He wouldn’t. Even I barely understood the things I did.

  I would call him from Las Vegas and let him know I was okay. I’d work for a few months, save up, then maybe we could pick up where we left off. Not now, though. Not while my life was still a wreck.

  The women screamed as the dancer on the stage worked his way up to the grand finale. His name was Theodore, and his theme was teddy bears. He had a hairy chest, and wasn’t nearly as svelte as the other dancers, but the ladies went wild for him. When he finally pulled off his g-string, a hush fell over the crowd, followed by nervous giggles.

  Nick came over to where I was standing behind the bar, restocking the beer cooler. We didn’t usually go through much beer on a Ladies’ Night, but I wanted to keep my hands busy until the end of my shift.

  “Hey, maybe I should get up there,” Nick said. “Those guys are getting better tips in one night than I get all week.”

  “Why don’t you get up there?”

  He pointed to his red hair. “This isn’t a dye job. My skin is pale to the point of being translucent. The glow off my bare chest alone would blind customers, and our liability insurance wouldn’t cover all those lawsuits.” He looked down over my body. “Not everyone did as well at the genetic lottery as you.”

  “Yeah, lucky me.” I patted my chest. “Flat and broke. Flat broke.”

  He looked away, distracted by the announcer introducing the next act.

  The announcer called over the music on his microphone, “Ladies, we have a couple of virgins for you. Do you like virgins? Let me hear you yell VIRGINS!”

  The ladies yelled randomly until they eventually came together as a group, chanting, “Virgins! Virgins!”

  From the opening in the thick velvet curtains at the back of the stage, a guy stumbled through. He wore a bright yellow T-shirt and a pair of white overalls—the kind a house painter might wear. He had a white painter’s cap on his head, over his shaggy brown hair.

  Duncan.

  The announcer said, “This is Duncan, and he works by day painting houses. At least that’s what he told me. I don’t see any splashes of paint on those overalls, do you? Be sure and take a good look, ladies. Duncan! Don’t be shy. The stage continues fifteen feet ahead of where you’re trembling in your boots.”

  The music changed, and Duncan began shuffling forward, dropping one strap of his overalls and flirting with the crowd.

  I was so distracted by Duncan, I barely noticed Charlie slipping out through the curtains, wearing an identical outfit.

  Nick stood beside me, watching with interest. “I didn’t know your friends were performing tonight.”

  “Me, neither.”

  He cackled. “They’re going to get eaten alive.”

  “They’re going to get bitten on the ass.”

  At the announcer’s suggestion, the crowd began howling for the boys to take off their shirts. They did, swinging their shirts over their heads and tossing them out into the crowd.

  “Are they really house painters?” Nick asked. “They can’t dance, so they probably shouldn’t quit their day jobs.”

  The guys were loosening up now, flexing and dancing for the crowd of cheering ladies. Charlie seemed distracted, scanning the crowd for me. Duncan, however, was a natural, gyrating like a professional with just a little encouragement.

  I couldn’t watch. I couldn’t look away, either.

  I pulled out my phone and looked over the messages to Eden, then I sent one more.

  Me: I’ll give you the gas money to help with your trip, but I can’t go. I need to make a fresh start, but Las Vegas isn’t it.

  I turned to Nick. “Can you handle the bar for a bit on your own?”

  “Why?”

  “I need to go bite one of those dancers.”

  He poured two shots of tequila and handed one to me. “Never a dull night,” he said.

  “To change.” I clinked my shot glass to his and downed the shot. Three seconds too late, I remembered why I never drink tequila. Tequila makes me crazy.

  I came out from behind the bar and pushed my way through the crowd to the stage.

  The women were calling out to the boys, who were both slipping out of their overalls to screaming requests for kisses and more nudity. The overalls dropped.

  Standing back to back, Duncan in his red g-string and Charlie in his blue g-string, they shook their hips and reversed to show their buns to the ladies.

  One woman across the runway from me was particularly noisy, waving her arms and pointing to her friend, a bride-to-be in a tattered veil, who could barely stand. The two girls called out, “Kiss me!”

  Duncan danced over to them, crouched down, and kissed them both on the cheek.

  I waved my arms to get Charlie’s attention.

  He saw me, and his face lit up with a big grin.

  “Kiss me!” I yelled.

  He kept dancing, pretending to scan the crowd for better offers.

  I pulled up a chair and climbed on top, waving my arms.

  Charlie pretended to pull down his g-string, but stopped short of revealing much more than a trail of dark, curly pubic hair. Someone screamed, nearly deafening me.

  “Marry me!” I yelled, feeling the excitement of the crowd.

  He held his hand to his ear.

  The crowd quieted down.

  The announcer came up to my side, talking on the microphone. “Ladies, I think we have someone who wants to take these virgins home with her. What do you think of that? Are you willing to share?”

  The response was a mix, but mostly against sharing.

  I leaned over and told the announcer the truth. We’d been working together for a while. He and I didn’t know each other well, but he was a nice guy, married with five kids, all adopted by him and his partner.

  “Go for it,” he said, handing me the microphone.

  Speaking into the microphone, I said to Charlie, and everyone else in the bar, “Hey, fella. You don’t dance like no virgin.”

  He held up two fingers. I couldn’t hear his words, but I got the idea. This was his second time dancing, if we counted the impromptu striptease at the red lights.

  Duncan dropped to his hands and started doing pushups
while nearby customers slapped his buttocks.

  Over the microphone, I said, “Charlie, I’ve got a question for you, but I want you to know that no matter what happens, I’ll never stand in the way of your dancing career.”

  He pumped the air with his fists, grinning, and everyone cheered.

  I continued, getting the hang of talking into the microphone, “Maybe this is the tequila talking, or the glint of your body glitter gleaming on your sexy triceps, but… Charlie, will you be with me?”

  The crowd went quiet.

  I repeated, “Will you be with me?”

  Charlie stopped swaying completely and slowly got down on one knee, holding his hands over his heart.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Some ladies in the crowd began to howl, “Nooooo!”

  Duncan jumped up and stood beside Charlie, raising his arms to shush the crowd. “Ladies, your next round of drinks is on me, but you gotta say yes!”

  “Yes!” everyone yelled. The way they were getting lathered up, you would have thought I’d proposed. Oh, shit. Had I proposed? What words did I use?

  The microphone at my lips, I asked again, “Yes?”

  “Yes,” Charlie said.

  And then Duncan whipped off his g-string and tossed it into the crowd.

  ~

  After we left the lounge, with Charlie driving Duncan’s car, we drove to the motel. Duncan followed us into Charlie’s room, even though he had his own room, next door.

  The guys had a beer, laughing over the performance that evening. Charlie didn’t try to get any bills stuffed into his g-string, but Duncan proudly showed off his crumpled cash. It was only a fraction of what he’d spent buying a round of drinks, but he was so proud of those bills. I understood the feeling, as well as the rush they were both experiencing.

  I excused myself to the washroom, where I made a call to Stefan, the young man I’d gone on three dates with. He was sad to hear it was over between us, but not surprised.

  I felt bad, and told him I did.

  “One last thing,” he said.

  I held my breath, expecting him to say something hurtful.

  “I tracked down that bad roommate you had. All your stuff was long gone, but he’s about to get a taste of his own medicine.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll email you some photos. It was actually fun to track him down.”

  “You’re a good friend. I wish things could be different.”

  “I don’t. I enjoyed getting to know you, and you lifted me up out of my rut. Take care of yourself, Skye.”

  I said goodbye and ended the call. All the emotions of the day caught up with me, and I found myself fighting back tears, for some reason.

  I turned on the shower, as hot as the old motel taps would allow, and climbed in. I peeled off the false eyelashes and let them wash down the drain, along with the perfume scent that had settled on my skin from all the women at Ladies’ Night.

  Stepping out of the washroom in a towel, I found Charlie alone, relaxing on the motel room bed in his regular clothes.

  “I liked those overalls,” I said.

  “Then I’ll get some more, just for you. I’m a rich asshole, so I can buy whatever I want, whenever I want.”

  “You’re not that much of an asshole.”

  “Come here and drop that towel.” He beckoned me to him. “You’re so fucking sexy when you’re insulting me. Should I get the soap to wash that filthy tongue of yours, or should I spank your ass?”

  I unwrapped the towel and tossed it onto a wood chair.

  With Charlie’s hazel eyes fixed on me, I crawled onto the bed and waited on my hands and knees.

  “Spanking,” I said.

  Sitting next to me, he caressed my bare buttock lovingly, then gave it a firm swat.

  “That’s for leaving without saying goodbye.”

  I whispered, “I could never say goodbye to you.”

  He smacked me again, harder, but his voice was calm. “That’s for breaking my heart.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He massaged by skin, then smacked me a third time. A cracking slap.

  I turned my head back, glaring. “What was that for?”

  He grinned. “That was purely recreational. Wow, it’s really red. And my hand is stinging.”

  I turned around and crawled along his body, pushing him back onto the bed and climbing on top. “I’m going to bite you.”

  “I hope you will.” He reached for my hair, hanging down and touching his face. “Kiss me.” He tugged a handful of hair and pulled me to him.

  My lips met his, and my body relaxed. He sighed, letting me kiss him at my own pace, working my hands up under his shirt to caress him.

  He moaned and lifted his hips, grinding against me.

  “I missed you,” he said. “I missed your pretty blue eyes, and your smile, and even your stubbornness. I missed waking up next to you, and your hair, wet from the shower, and the sight of you making me a cup of coffee with a paper towel as a filter because you don’t have a coffee maker, like a normal person.”

  “I still don’t have a coffee maker.”

  “What do you have?”

  “All of my love. To give to you. No conditions.”

  He kissed me. “I love you, too.”

  “We’re just two strippers in love.”

  “And one of us is wearing clothes.”

  “Not for long,” I squealed, rolling off so I could tear his clothes away. “I missed you,” I said as I pulled down his underwear.

  “That’s so sweet,” he murmured.

  “I was talking to your cock.”

  “Great! He missed you, too. Oh, wow.”

  I flicked my tongue around the head, then enveloped his cock in my mouth. Charlie’s words turned to moans, begging me to stop and not stop.

  With my nose against his treasure trail, I inhaled deeply, taking in his musky scent. I’d smelled a thousand guys, and none of them smelled as good as Charlie. Something about his unique chemistry made his scent the key that fit my lock, opening me… my legs, my heart, everything.

  I walked my fingers around his balls, then held them in my palm. Balls aren’t usually the most attractive part of a guy, but Charlie’s were quite appealing. I took a break from his cock to kiss them tenderly, getting comfortable between his legs.

  “You have nice balls,” I said.

  “Stop messing around and get up here. Sit on my face, because my face really missed your pussy.”

  “But I really like playing with your balls.”

  Charlie waggled his thick, dark eyebrows. “We could…”

  He didn’t have to ask twice. I moved up on the bed alongside him, then turned and swung my leg over, so I was facing down, my lips touching his balls, my legs on either side of his head. He grunted and pulled me up closer to his face. His chin rubbed along my inner thighs and against my pussy.

  I grabbed his hard cock with one hand and guided him into my mouth at the same time his tongue slipped between my folds.

  “Mmmmm,” I moaned around his cock, the vibrations reverberating through my chest.

  He licked me with a punishing rhythm, until I couldn’t do anything but climax, completely abandoning my own task, my mouth empty. I shook and moaned, burying my face against his hip bone.

  When I’d finished shaking, I went limp on his body.

  A second later, he slapped my ass. “Don’t fall asleep on me now! We’re just getting started.”

  I giggled. “We could take a nap for a bit.”

  He rolled me off him, turned around, and was on top of me in seconds. I lay on my back, in the middle of the bed. He grabbed my hips with both hands and plunged inside me, sliding easily and filling me.

  Gasping, I raised my hips to meet his, rocking in rhythm.

  “Not so tired,” he said.

  “Got my second wind,” I explained.

  He kissed me, pressing me flat beneath his weight. His presence was all-
consuming, above me and inside me, everywhere. Suddenly, I felt all the loneliness I’d been carrying the last three months. The pain overwhelmed me and brought tears to my eyes.

  He slowed down, then stopped, his eyes concerned.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  I fanned my face with my hand. “No, not at all. Don’t stop. I’m just sad about the last three months, and how I wasted them not being with you.”

  He wiped a tear from my cheek. “We can take it slow.” He started to pull away, his face serious.

  I pulled him back, wrapping my legs around his buttocks. Grinning, I said, “I wasn’t talking to you, Charlie. I was talking to your cock. I missed out on three months with your cock.”

  He shook his head, laughing quietly.

  That was when I took advantage of his distraction and pushed him onto his back on the bed. I threw my leg over him, cowgirl-style, and I got to work showing him just how much I’d missed him.

  I burned through my second wind, and my third.

  We called a mutual truce right around dawn, when the sun started peeking around the room’s blackout curtains.

  Chapter 27

  Charlie

  The morning after we got back together, Skye took us to her favorite greasy spoon restaurant for breakfast.

  Duncan was bright and chipper, probably because he’d gotten a good night’s sleep, unlike us. Not that I was complaining. I’d happily lose sleep because of Skye, forever.

  “I’m the best man, right?” Duncan asked.

  I looked across the table at Skye.

  She blinked innocently, her pale blue eyes bright under her sleepy eyelids. “What did I ask you last night?”

  Duncan cut in and explained, “You asked my best friend to marry you, and I’m going to be the best man at the wedding.”

  Skye stared into my eyes. “I asked you to be with me. Be with me.”

  I had no doubt about what she’d actually said once she got the microphone. Even with the ladies around us howling for me to take off my g-string, I’d clearly heard Skye ask me to be with her. However, this new twist was certainly interesting. I’d forgiven her for running away from me, but I hadn’t paid her back yet with a prank of my own.

  I took her hand. “Sweetheart. You asked me to marry you. You don’t remember? How many tequila shots did you have?”

 

‹ Prev