Page 66 of Accidental Husband
It's not crowded, exactly. There are four lap dances in progress.
And, God, I can't stop gawking.
It's weird seeing naked women grinding against fully dressed men.
But it's kind of hot too.
Griff turns to me and raises a brow. "You ready for this?"
I think I'm going insane, because I nodyes.
I am.
I really am.
Chapter Sixteen
Juliette
"So," the dancer purrs, "what brings you to Vegas?"
"I… Uh… We… What's your name?" I try to wipe my palms on my dress, but the fabric is too slick.
"I go by Barbie." She smiles. "Like Barbara. Not the doll."
Right. Like Barbara. Not the doll.
There's a slight accent to her voice, something southern. Maybe her name really is Barbara. Maybe she was named after her grandmother. Or her mom. Or both.
I'm sure she has a full life, a history, likes and dislikes.
She's more than tits and ass. Even if she's incredibly well-endowed in both departments.
"Care to take a seat?" She motions to the crimson couch in front of us.
Right. We're doing this.
I sit. Cross my legs. Uncross them.
This is a lap dance. She needs access to my lap.
I'm okay with that.
I am.
My gaze shifts around the room. The mirror across from us. The "couple" in the corner, too far away for proper detail. The dancer to our right.
She's dressed in a black corset and a matching thong, with shiny boots that go way up her thighs.
Her customer is in a suit and he's staring at her like she's the center of the universe.
The way I always wanted Jackson to look at me.
Like he's desperate to get his hands on her.
She runs her fingers along his chin. Tilts his head so he's staring into her eyes. Leans down to thrust her chest into his face.
She climbs into his lap. Takes his hands. Brings them to the lacing of her corset.
