Page 8 of Unmistakably Us

Three

Just as she expected, Logan was sitting at his usual spot. He seemed to favor the narrow ledge attached to the front of the stage that served as a table. What she didn’t expect was his level of attentiveness. He always watched her with an intensity that weakened her knees. If she wasn’t in full Domino mode, she could have never borne the weight of his gaze. January wasn’t comfortable with that kind of attention, any attention really.

She had spent most her life trying to blend. She’d loved the gymnastics, ballet, tap, and even piano, which her parents insisted she study, but she hated competing. Everyone staring, listening, searching for any little flaw they could find, then passing judgment. That’s why she gave that all up when she went to college.

However, she discovered that when it was her choice, she didn’t mind it as much. That didn’t mean she was comfortable with the attention, but she was learning. As Domino though, she flourished in the spotlight. It was a double-edged sword that Domino was becoming a part of her, because the end was near.

Her overbearing mother and douche of a husband would murder Domino soon. Hopefully, I can hide a piece of her away deep inside where no one can find her, and when it’s all over, she can shine as a true part of me.

The touch of Logan’s gaze felt like a lover’s caress, gentle and exploring. Then, when the intensity of the music amplified her movements, it became rough, like the grip of a lover desperate with need. One who was seconds away from fucking his partner against the nearest horizontal or vertical surface.

Fast and hard.

January’s steps faltered as images of Logan fucking her up against a wall flooded her brain. God, she wanted that, needed it. Craved it to the point she had already told her sister not to expect her home. She wasn’t sure she was brave enough to go for it. Sure, she could wait until she was leaving and he’d make the first move, as always. But she wanted it to be different for some reason. Wanted him to see her differently.

It shouldn’t matter, you dingus. It can’t go anywhere. You fuck him, you come, you leave. It doesn’t matter if he thinks you’re a mousy prude or a dirty slut. You’ll be gone in no time, and he’ll be fucking his next stripper.

That thought both rankled and comforted her, but either way, she wanted this experience to be unlike anything else in her life. So, what he thought did matter as far as that went. If he saw her as a mouse, he may treat her like one.

That simply wouldn’t do. Not with Logan. Not for an experience she was hanging a decade on. Everyone would treat her like a mouse or expect her to be a mouse for years to come. Tonight, she would be a tiger.

She had watched him ignore the waitresses and other dancers all night. As a rule, he was a flirt and a half. Always brushing the waitresses’ wrist as she delivered a beer. Winking at the dancers as he tucked a ten into their g-string.

It was that inattention on them and laser-focus attention on her that had the idea of him and her and tangled sheets cemented in her brain.

It was her last dance of the night, and it was now or never. January always approached his direction, she had no choice because of where he sat, but she never lingered. He wasn’t tipping, and the level of eye contact he maintained when she approached, was panty-melting.

January walked his way in a toe-dragging, seductive stutter step. For once, he leaned up to the stage the way most men did. Waiting. Wanting to get close enough to touch before Ruger reminded them to keep their hands to themselves.

Darting a quick glance toward the bouncer when he tensed, Domino gave him an almost imperceptible nod, letting him know she had it handled if Logan got out of control. When Ruger relaxed back against the wall, her focus returned to the man she wanted for a night.

Once she was directly in front of him, she didn’t break eye contact. That wasn’t easy to do for a girl taught to be demure and told to coyly avert her gaze. Fuck that, Domino wasn’t taught shit. Demure never gets what it wants, not from a man like that.

She dropped to her knees, framing him between them. A few hip grinds, and his focus dropped where she expected. He missed her dragging her arms under her hair and pushing her breasts together with her forearms as she brought her hands back down.

Some unknown force seemed to inhabit her body, because without realizing what she was doing, his face was in her hands. His eyes finally lifted from between her legs. With a wink, she forced it right back by pretty much planting his face between her thighs before shoving it backward. The stunned but heated look on his face was worth breaking a few policies.

Good thing the management here at Pole Position didn’t exactly give a shit about laws or policies or anything else. It wasn’t like she was dancing at Cinnamon River on the beach.

Ruger was the only one who cared, and he kept unwanted contact off the girls, but if they wanted to touch the customers, he stayed out of it as long as the dancers didn’t break any major laws that would get them shut down.

While Logan was catching flies, Domino made a show of dancing upright so no other customers got pissed. Time to seal the deal. As gracefully as she could, she found herself on her back, one knee up and her head off the stage, with her blonde hair pooling on his thighs.

“So, you going to tip me tomorrow night?”

It took a while for Logan to realize she had spoken to him; his confusion was there on his handsome face. While he got up to speed, Domino writhed and caressed herself in time with the bass. If the moans from the trucker to the right were any indication, she was conveying the correct message.

Another blink and Logan spoke. “I’ve already explain—” She halted his words with a finger across his lips while her other hand continued to knead her breast.

From this angle, he looked…delicious, or maybe it was in her head. Either way, she wanted him even more. “Yes, I know, paying to fuck me and all that, but if I’ve already fucked you, it won’t be payment, now will it?” His confusion was priceless. “Think about it, big boy,” she added with a lip bite. She winked again and slid the single finger still resting at his lips down to close his mouth before rolling over, pushing to her feet, and hitting the pole for the last thirty seconds of the song.

When she exited the stage, she risked a glance back at Logan. He was still sitting there shocked and staring at her ass as she strutted away.

Once behind the curtain, she found the nearest solid wall and slid down it to the floor. Her head dropped to her hands as what she had said and done registered. The January part of her shoved forward, and her embarrassment flared.

Platinum was standing in the dark between the parted curtains at the back of the runway. Right next to where January sat. She was up next, waiting for her music cue and the spotlight.

“Whoa, you must have brought the heat tonight, because Mr. Tall, Dark, and Do Me is adjusting his crotch and staring at the stage like he is reliving the greatest moment of his life.”

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