Page 3 of The Right Woman

My attention is drawn to a tiny woman in the center of a group of men, waving her arms high above her head and swiveling her hips seductively. Her short pink hair catches the neon glowing spotlights as they skirt across the floor. While taking a sip of my drink, I follow her with my eyes as I find an empty booth along the dance floor. One side has two chairs, the other a bench seat. A black curtain closes the alcove only halfway. It’s the closest this place has for privacy.

A few of the women here are recognizable from my previous visits. I nod politely at some of them, but they know my rules.

No repeats.

No kissing.

No emotion.

That last one I keep to myself. This is strictly about getting needs met. My desire for control and theirs for giving it up. I’m not allowing myself the opportunity to engage in something I’ll just fuck up, like my previous marriage.

Despite all the older gentlemen surrounding the little pixie, it doesn’t take long for her to notice me in the corner. I’m a large man, probably the tallest here. Definitely the broadest. Wherever I go, most people recognize my stature. Only problem is, I also own a very reputable mechanic shop during the daylight hours, and I don’t want these two facets of my life mixing.

No one has ever said they recognized me at work, but it could happen. I’ve seen a few club goers come through the shop from time to time, but I let Tate handle those repairs, while I stay in the back office. The mask helps with anonymity, and also when the gals get too into it and reach for my lips.

That’s not something I’ll do with someone again. Intimacy was over when Emily walked out the door. As it closed, I knew…I’d failed, and I wasn’t sure I could ever succeed in arelationship. She said I never opened up. That I kept things deep inside and wouldn’t talk. She was completely right. I’m not even surehowto do that. Or even if I want to.

So here I sit while the rosy-cheeked dancer waltzes toward me with pretend shyness. Her tiny silver flapper dress looks like a mirror ball, sending prisms of light with her every move. She must be under five-five because the gigantic clear stilettos she’s wearing make her only about five-nine, if that. Now that she faces me, I catch the shine of glitter across her chest, too. The girl looks like New Year’s Eve.

And I want to celebrate every inch of her.

As she approaches, I slowly drag my thumbs over my open thighs. My cock thickens with every sway of her hips. Her eyes are drawn to the motion underneath my zipper until she stops between my legs and bends over, placing her lips near my mask.

With her this close, I catch a spattering of freckles speckled across her nose. Patchouli and vanilla waft over me, the scent a hint of whosheis. But the outfit? The glitz? It doesn’t seem to go with the essence of the little creature placing her hand on my shoulder.

“Mind if I sit?” she asks with an arch of her darker eyebrow.

When I nod, she barely hesitates before climbing onto my lap and tossing her arms around my neck. Sure, we’re in a sex club, but I’ve never met a woman this forward.

“What are you drinking?” She picks up my glass and takes a whiff. As she lifts it to her parted mouth, I slap my hand against her wrist and have her lower it back to the table.

“That’s not yours. Don’t be rude.”

Her big eyes startle for a moment as she sets the double back down. “Okay.” It’s almost as if she’s never been told no. We stare at each other for a long moment, her studying the mask with some curiosity. The vivaciousness she exhibited on the dance floor seems to quell into something deeper. Some intenseemotion lies just underneath her surface. What it is, I have no idea…

“What do you want?” I ask her.

Under the dim light, I watch her silver choker shift as she swallows. With a boldness that emanates from her outward persona, she says, “I want a daddy. Like agoodone. Ineeda daddy to make me behave.”

She’s not trying to flirt or fake this. There’s no show she’s putting on, not like the one out in front of the group of guys earlier. My mask feels very apparent while hers has slipped. “Will you be my daddy?” she asks.

Her vulnerability makes the blood surge to my crotch. Here on my lap, she seems so fragile and small. Breakable. Maybe no one else sees it, but it’s there. If I’m not careful, I could seriously hurt her. Still, I came to get some needs met. And that’s what I’ll do.

“For tonight.”

Chapter

Two

PIPER

Listen.When a man walks into a club wearing a black mask, you fuck him. It’s like a cardinal rule of sex. Or it should be.

Put it inPiper’s Rules of Life, number one sixty-nine.

Right after, “sit on daddies’ laps and make them spank you.”

The problem is, I can’t seem to follow a rule for the life of me. Not only that, but it’s almost an innate need for me tonotdo what someone tells me. Especially if he’s a man and big and broad with thighs like the one I’m straddling.

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