Page 11 of Viva Wed Vegas

“Room, play Rhianna’s Skin,” Alina states firmly. The music starts playing, filling the room. “Don’t worry. They’re soundproofed.” She smirks.

I smile. “Okay, just watch what I do, and then copy or do your own thing, whatever. Just remember that you are sexy bitches, and a small bit of advice. Just pretend you’re riding your man’s dick. You’re giving your man the performance of his life,” I tell them, repeating Sunny’s words of advice.

Smiling, I close my eyes, allowing the memories of dancing to come flooding back. I begin to move my hips, lowering myself to the floor, seductively rocking my hips as I spread my thighs apart and lean back until my shoulders touch the floor. I then glide my hand down my body to between my legs before flipping over onto all fours. Lowering my front to the floor, I keep my ass in the air and grind it to the beat, fucking that imaginary dick. As I do this, the memory of that night comes to me, of Ghost watching me, of how I provoked him, the heat and anger that he pinned me with.

I smile to myself. I should have known I was in trouble back then. I open my eyes to see the ol’ ladies staring at me. “What?” I ask.

“Is it too late to turn lesbian?” Maggie asks.

I laugh as I get up off the floor.

“You know, I always wondered how you managed to get Ghost’s attention. I mean, you’re stunning, of course, but I had seen beautiful women practically throw themselves at him, and I knew the girls at the club. I’ve seen them dance, but that, that was hypnotic. You were his siren,” Queenie states, a warm smile on her face.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, feeling a little embarrassed. I will gladly flash my tits at anyone, and I could talk about my sex life with zero embarrassment, but feelings? That’s something I struggle with, even now.

I clear my throat. “Okay, now you guys.” I smile. Alina gets the music to replay, and at first they all start to dance a little awkwardly, but eventually they relax a little more and start to laugh and enjoy it. “Yes!” I praise, grinning. Even Queenie bends over, attempting to twerk, making us all laugh.

A knock at the door startles us, and Alina is quick to kill the music. Our personal butler walks towards the door. “Shit, I forgot he was here,” Maggie pants, laughing.

He opens the door, and Ghost is standing there, glaring at the poor butler guy before he strides in.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

Being Ghost, he ignores everyone else and doesn’t stop until he reaches me. He grabs me firmly in his hand and presses his lips to mine in a brief and owning kiss. He pulls back slightly, his eyes assessing mine.

“You’re up to something,” he mutters.

A slow smile teases at my lips. “Maybe I am,” I taunt.

His eyes spark. “Whatever it is, don’t do it,” he growls in warning.

I slowly run my tongue along my bottom lip, and his eyes follow the movement. “You’re forgetting,” I whisper, leaning closer to him, “no one tells me what to do, especially you Casper.”

His hands grip my hips, his fingers almost bruising. I smile, nipping his lobe. “Darlin’,” he warns.

I lean back, giving him a playful wink. “Yes, dear?” I ask, taunting him further.

“If this is about to get R-rated, you need to take it to another room,” Queenie warns.

“Strip club,” Ghost states.

I nod. “I know. Is that why you came here? To tell me you’re going to a strip club?” I ask.

“No,” he states firmly.

I frown. “Then what?” I ask.

“I came to ask if you’re okay with it, or are you going to end up going feral and getting yourself arrested?” he asks.

I arch my brow. “You’re asking for my permission?” I ask in disbelief.

His grins, moving his hand around to my throat. “I’m asking so I don’t have to bail my woman out of fucking jail.” He gently squeezes my neck.

“You’re going to touch the stripper?” I ask.

“No,” he answers firmly.

“Is she going to touch you?” I press.

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