“Wait, is this already monogamous?” I asked in disbelief. “It’s literally our first date.”
“So?” he asked with a shrug. “Sometimes you just know.”
My heart skipped a beat at his choice of words.
He brushed it off by waving down the waitress to get the check. “You want to go back to my place?”
“I guess this date went well, then.”
He took the tab from the waitress and opened it in front of himself. “Well enough that we’ve already agreed to be exclusive.”
“Well, I didn’t technically agree to anything.”
“Then do it now.” He looked up and met my gaze, that intense expression coming into his gaze, wearing his bedroom eyes.
I was put on the spot, stuck in a fog, my heart stopping for just a moment. “Alright…I’m in.”
He looked down at the receipt. “So, how do you want to do this? I’m happy to throw down some cash so we can get out of here, but I suspect you’re going to pitch a fit, so you tell me how you want to handle it.”
“Wow, that was hot.”
His intensity dropped slightly, he was so caught by surprise.
“You can pay. You earned it.”
“Yeah?” He opened his wallet and put the cash down. “Why?”
“Because you didn’t do the check dance. You skipped the bullshit and asked me what I wanted to do.”
He closed the tab and set it at the edge of the table. “Let’s get out of here fast. I think I’m going to get some good P.”
“P?” I asked with a laugh.
“What? You can get some good D, but I can’t get some good P?”
We walked into a building I’d been in before and stepped into the elevator.
He stood beside me, his hands in his pockets, and stared ahead as the elevator rose.
“Looks like someone has his own penthouse…”
His reflection was in the doors, and he couldn’t suppress his smile.
The doors opened right to the living room.
I stepped inside and took a look around—because this shit was swanky. “Okay, I don’t want to be weird and talk about money, but…how?”
He chuckled and pulled out his phone and keys to toss them onto the coffee table. “I invented a couple things in college and patented them.”
“Like what?”
“Household stuff…cooking stuff…all kinds of things.”
“Wow, that’s so cool.”
“I think playing poker is a lot cooler, but thanks.”
I stepped farther inside and saw his big living room, which was large enough to entertain twenty guests comfortably. He had an enormous dining table and a full chef’s kitchen. It was a big place for one guy—but my dad had lived in a similarly large condo before he married my mom. “Now I understand why you don’t think I’m superficial.”
“Because I like nice things?” He turned to me, a slight grin on his face. “My inventions bring in the salary I rely on to fuel this lifestyle, and that allows me to pursue the things I really care about, like the clinic, research, education…all that stuff.”
“That’s hot.”
The grin reached his eyes. “Thanks.”
I moved through the penthouse and examined the couches. “Now I have to decide where I want to get laid. So many options.”
He lowered himself to one of the sofas, sitting right in the center with his arms spread out in both directions over the back of the couch. “How about right here?” With his knees planted far apart, a king in his home, he looked at me. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“My turn to be tested?”
“Yes.” He grabbed his phone off the coffee table and played music through his speakers overhead. He hit another control, dropping the light until it was moody and dark.
Stripper music.
The bass filled his penthouse, the music so loud that I wouldn’t be able to hear him unless he shouted. It was like we were in a club, just the two of us.
I was up for the challenge.
I tossed my bag aside, standing in my skirt and blouse. My eyes moved to his as I reached for the buttons of my top, immediately swaying my hips to the music, bending my knees and getting low to the floor, dropping my booty like I could pick up a bill with my cheeks.
He was still, his eyes growing more intense.
The buttons were unfastened, and then the blouse came free, revealing my lacy black bra underneath. It pushed my tits together, distinct in color against my fair skin. My hands moved into my long hair, and I threw my head back, flipping my hair around until it covered most of my face.
Just like J.Lo in Hustlers, I worked it.
And he liked it.
Piece by piece, my clothing fell to the floor, remaining in my heels and thong. Watching the look on his face was a turn-on, seeing the way he wanted me and could easily show it with just his eyes. He fidgeted sometimes, moving his legs, rubbing the back of his head with his palm, anxious.
I drew it out on purpose. I loved to dance, so I moved around, digging my hands in my hair, dropping myself low so he could have a full view of my ass right in his face. When I stood up, my thumbs hooked under the lace, and then I slowly pulled them down, leaning over as I did it, bending all the way down until I shook my ass in his face.
I arched my back up and flipped my hair at the same time, looking at him over my shoulder.
I didn’t hear what he said, but I saw the word on his mouth. “Fuck.”
I strutted to him then lowered myself to his lap.
He instantly drew in a breath when I was there, his hands moving to feel my smooth thighs.
I sat on his hard dick in his jeans and rocked, giving him a lap dance.
His hips instinctively thrust against me, his dick wanting to break through his jeans and slide inside the wetness waiting for him. He didn’t downplay his arousal. He didn’t play it cool like some guys would. He wore his desire on his sleeve, in his eyes, and that was so sexy.
My hand fished into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.
His eyes watched me.
I grabbed the wad of cash and threw it into the air, letting the bills spread apart and flutter through the air, raining down on our bodies and the cushions and floor.
His face visibly flushed—like the wait was torture.
My hands popped the buttons of his jeans and pulled down the zipper, my tits in his face.
He swallowed.
My fingers slipped under his jeans, and I slowly started to tug. “I do more than lap dances…but it’s going to cost you.”
He inhaled a slow and deep breath, like the role-play was super hot. “You’re worth it, baby.”
“Yeah? Then what do you want me to do first?”
His hands moved to my ass and squeezed my cheeks. “Get on your knees.”
I slid to the floor, my hands pulling his bottoms with me, getting them down to his thighs, his large dick plump and slightly red.
He grabbed the base of his dick and cupped my cheek, directing my mouth to his drooling head. “Fuck my dick with that pretty mouth.”
My tongue emerged and flattened, and I leaned over to take it deep in my throat, my hair all over his lap. I craned my neck and got it inside, hearing him moan so loud, it was audible over the music.
This was a nice dick to suck, so I enjoyed it.
I gave it to him hard because I was caught up in the moment, lost in the fantasy of being a stripper.
His hand held on to my neck, and he thrust his hips toward me, fucking me hard with that big dick that made it nearly impossible to breathe. He pulled on my head as he angled his hips, grunting loudly, so into it like it was a dirty fantasy he had himself.
Knowing how much he enjoyed it made me enjoy it, and I met his aggression with my own.
He came a moment later, giving a deep moan that rivaled the bass. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
I swallowed it all, his hand still on my neck.
When he finished, I pulled my h
ead back and licked my lips.
He looked at me in a way he never had before, as if he didn’t recognize me. His hand slid into his pocket, and he pulled out a condom. His dick remained rock hard, and he rolled the latex down his length, ready to go all over again.
Damn, that was hot.
He pulled me onto his lap, his arm hooked around the small of my back, deepening the angle of my spine, and slid me onto his length.
It felt so damn good.
Best dick ever.
He thrust up as he tugged me down, so anxious to fuck me again that he didn’t even want me to move. He did all the work, pounding into me from below, his face close to mine, one hand on my tit.
I came within seconds, his dick the perfect size, his enthusiasm such a turn-on. I came all around him, the music blaring, the scenery a club with people and other dancers. We fucked like we didn’t care who saw. We needed each other as much as possible, needed each other to keep this high that fed our addiction.
14
Atlas
One by one, I tested the vials, in my full lab gear.
But my mind wandered elsewhere.
Music. Darkness. Dark hair everywhere. A wet mouth that took my dick like the suffocation was worth the pleasure. She sucked my dick so fucking good that it didn’t even know what to do.
Jesus, it was so fucking hot.
Hottest shit I’d ever seen.
“Atlas, how’s it going?”
I dropped the vial. “Shit.” My hands went everywhere trying to catch it, and I fell out of my chair in an attempt to stop it from shattering on the floor. I got it before it hit the floor, but barely.
Even in his goggles, Dr. Hamilton looked confused. “You alright?”
I couldn’t even look him in the eye right now. “Yeah. I’m good.” I got back onto my stool and returned the vial to its slot, relieved that it hadn’t shattered and halted our first human trial.
Dr. Hamilton moved to the workbench across from me with his notebook and pen.
This was awkward.
They had the exact same dark hair—even more awkward.
He would break every bone in my face if he knew what I’d done with his daughter last night.
Dr. Hamilton got to work.
It was quiet. This time, I didn’t let my thoughts wander. They stayed where they should—on work.
Minutes later, he said, “How are things with you?”
“Good. Things are going well at the clinic, and I’m excited for tomorrow.”
“I meant personally.”
“Well, you know me, work is life…” I sealed the vial and moved on to the next one.
“Cleo and I took Cam and Little Deacon to the movies yesterday. Derek and Emerson wanted a night to themselves.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“I like my grandkids, so I don’t mind.”
It turned quiet again, and I remained focused on my work.
“You’ll have to take a short hiatus from the clinic for the next few days. We’ll need to be available for full observations.”
“That’s no problem.” I was just relieved he didn’t ask me about Daisy. I was afraid he would, and I would have no idea what to say. It seemed like that was a boundary he wouldn’t cross—thankfully.
I wasn’t at the clinic during the day.
Everyone could handle themselves just fine without me there, so there wouldn’t be an issue.
I left the hospital in the evening, showered, and then went to the clinic that night.
When I arrived, Daisy was there.
She was always there.
She looked up when I passed, her eyes locking on to mine.
I kept going and headed to my office. I had shit to do, and I knew she did too.
I sat at my desk and got to work, already tired after the long day I’d had. The paperwork never went away, even with two assistants, and I had to stay on top of all the administrative stuff, which wasn’t exactly my favorite.
Daisy walked in later, her bag over her shoulder.
I immediately looked at her, unable to get the image of her naked out of my head, flinging her hair around, shaking her hips like she’d been a stripper in a former life. Confident. Sexy. Strong. Smart. This woman had it all.
She sat in the armchair and crossed her legs, her tight clothing showing the curves I had memorized the first time I’d looked at her.
I closed my laptop and stared at her.
She stared back.
We were both thinking the same thing—that we fucked so good together.
If I didn’t have work to do, I’d ask her to go home right now.
She cleared her throat. “My dad mentioned the trials. I guess you won’t be in the office during the day.”
“Just for a couple days.”
She gave a nod. “How’s it going?”
“Good. We’re really anxious for results, but it takes time to get that kind of data, data that has any real meaning.”
“Know how that goes. Dad used to talk about it all the time.”
“Can I see you on Saturday?”
A playful grin moved on to her face. “You aren’t going to get another show like that for free.”
“I’m pretty broke from last time…you wrung me dry.”
She flipped her hair. “Just doing my job.”
“You’re very good at your job.”
She chuckled. “I know.”
“Were you a stripper before you got into medicine?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?”
She chuckled again. “I’ve watched Hustlers so many times. That’s where I learned everything.”
“Well, if the poker thing doesn’t work out…”
She laughed. “Doctor by day, exotic dancer by night.”
“Hot.”
She grabbed her bag and stood up again. “I’ll let you get to work. I’m sure you have a lot of things to do.”
“I’d rather be doing you…for what it’s worth.”
“Oh, I know,” she said confidently. “I got an ass that you won’t forget.” She gave herself a smack on the tush before she walked out.
It was all I could think about for ten minutes straight.
I skipped the gym and slept in late.
So fucking tired.
The week had been spent at the hospital, at the lab, and then the clinic. I had to stay on top of everything and couldn’t make excuses. If I were too busy to do my job right, I’d lose one of them.
That was the last thing I wanted to happen.
I worked at my dining table during the day, my laptop and papers around me, and when the afternoon arrived, I got a text from one of my boys.
You want to go out with us tonight?
I had been waiting for my date to show up at the bar when I met Matthew, and we hit it off a lot more than she and I did later. Long story short, we became friends, met his other friends, and it’d been that way ever since. Now that my family was gone, they were really all I had, other than some colleagues. We didn’t talk about anything serious. Kinda just hung out. Can’t tonight.
Dude, you work too much.
It’s actually not because of work.
Ooh… Matthew’s voice was audible in my head. Hot babe?
Super hot.
Is this a date?
Yeah.
You? You have a date tonight?
Yes.
She must be something special since you don’t do that shit anymore.
You could say that.
I texted her next. Come over tonight.
I’ll think about it.
I smiled when I looked at her message. You think about things a lot.
Because I’m smart.
If you were smart, you wouldn’t have to think.
Alright, then. Not coming over.
That bit me in the ass, didn’t it?
Yep. Now you gotta talk me into it.
I was planning on cooking for you.
Hm
m…what else?
That’s not good enough for you? Every time I fired off a message, she responded immediately, her mind working as quickly as mine.
Just trying to milk this for all I can.
I grinned. What else do you want?
Maybe a strip show.
I don’t dance, but I’m happy to get naked for you.
Great. What else?
What else? Damn, this woman wanted the whole pot.
I’ll blow you good.
Her message was instant. What time do you want me there?
“Damn, this looks good.” She stood with me in the kitchen, looking at the platter of tacos I’d prepared. Vegetarian, steak, and chicken, with all the fixings, along with chips and salsa.
“You like tacos?”
She gave me an incredulous look. “If someone doesn’t like tacos, they should be locked up.”
“With the murderers and all?”
“Yep.” She grabbed one of the platters and carried it to the dining table. “This is really impressive. You did this all by yourself?”
“I like to cook. I just don’t do it a lot.” I opened the fridge and grabbed a couple beers. “Beer okay, or do you want something else?”
“I’ll drink anything. Just nothing too sweet.”
I joined her at the dining table, sitting across from her.
She was in a teal summer dress, her thick hair down over one shoulder, bracelets on her wrist. Her petite frame was squeezed into the fabric, and her makeup was darker than it normally was. Her eyes had a smoky appearance, and her eyelashes were thicker. When she was in her workout gear with no makeup, she was hot. But when she did herself up, she looked out of my league.
She grabbed a couple tacos, squeezed the lime, and took a bite of the steak. “Mmm…” She covered her mouth and let out a loud moan, chewing quickly to get it down. “Jesus Christ, what did you put in this?”
“Like it?”
“This is like the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” She put it down and grabbed the vegetarian one. Her head rolled back, and she released another moan. “Oh wow… You cook the way you fuck.”
I watched her as I ate, enjoying the never-ending compliments. I had a million dishes in the kitchen that would require my attention, but her reaction made all the hard work worth it. “Thanks.”
The Girl Who Doesn't Quit (Soulless Book 12) Page 13