Page 6 of Directing You
My chest heaved with each heavy breath, and I could feel the racing pulse thrumming at the base of my jaw with each step closer to him. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted to feel his lips again. I lowered the glass to his mouth and he opened, wrapping his lips around it as I braced my hands on either side of his thighs. My palms pressed into the firm pleather cushions as I hoisted myself up into a handstand, forcing him to drink the glass of champagne quickly to avoid spilling it all over him.
A little bit of the bubbly liquid sloshed down my jaw and his neck, and when I lowered, I grabbed the glass. We were both laughing, wiping at our mouths as I curtseyed for his slow clap. Then, I fell to the couch, sitting beside him, curling my legs beneath me. “The end needs a little work,” he said. “But otherwise, a solid performance.”
I tipped my head in a fake bow. “Thank you.”
His eyes grazed down my neck and he started to lean in but stopped himself. “You have some chocolate on your neck still,” he whispered. Every molecule in my body buzzed to life with his awareness of me.
I wasn’t sure what made me so emboldened around him. But I liked this feeling. And if he was friends with Noah, he couldn’t be a bad person, right? Noah wouldn’t be friends with someone untrustworthy. I pushed onto my knees, straddling his lap. “Why don’t you get it for me?”
His hands scooped into my hair and he tugged my mouth to his in a bruising kiss that left me moaning against his tongue. There wasn’t much in terms of clothing between us—a small triangular scrap of silk between my legs and a low push-up bra that made what little cleavage I had stand out. I wasn’t the curviest dancer, but what I didn’t have in assets, I made up for in dance moves. I was the most trained dancer this burlesque club had ever seen, I knew that. Anyone with half a brain and a set of eyes knew that.
He moved his strong hands over the lace covering my breasts, teasing my pebbled nipples with his thumbs before continuing down my taut stomach to the edge of my panties. His fingers skimmed the edge of my panties and he paused, pulling back to look me in the eyes. “Is this okay?” he asked.
I nodded and on a breathless whisper, answered, “Yes.”
I barely got the word out before he slid his fingers beneath the slim elastic, grazing them across my heated flesh, and I moaned, throwing my head back. It wasn’t even a performance moan. His touch was firm yet delicate. The perfect combination of strength and tenderness to cause the ache between my legs to deepen.
Even though his touch was nearly perfect, it was still those eyes that captured me. His intense gaze had followed his hands, exploring my body—nearly permeating my flesh, it was so searingly hot. As his fingers continued their descent, his eyes darted back up to hold mine once more. Like those eyes could slice me open and reveal all my innermost thoughts. Those eyes could tear every secret I’d ever had from my locked lips.
I begged him for more without saying a word.
He gently kissed my mouth and slid his finger deep inside my wet heat. A low groan slipped from my parted lips, and I blinked as my head fell back, my palms resting against the sinew of his tight shoulders. “We should stop,” I whispered.
“You’re right, we should,” he said. “Do youwantme to stop? Say the word and I will.”
God, no. I reached between his legs, gripping his length and gasping at its feel in my palm. I placed him against me and rocked my hips, rubbing myself against him, and my nerves were on fire as pleasure spiraled up my core. My chest heaved with his heady groan as he lifted his hips, pressing his cock harder against my clit.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You feel so good.”
I leaned down, nibbling his ear, sucking at his earlobe before whispering, “I taste even better.”
An alarm blared, jolting me out of the sex haze, and Reid gave a frustrated groan as we split apart. I launched off his lap, backing away, breathing heavily. “What’s that?” I asked.
With a grunt, he lifted his hips and pulled his phone from his pocket, hitting a button and shutting it off. “My alarm. It’s midnight.”
He swallowed as though this fact—the time—meant something, and I cocked my head, shrugging. “And?”
“And it’s time for me to go.” He didn’t seem to want to go, despite the words. Standing, he slid the phone into his pocket, pressing his lips together, his eyes slowly raking my body as if he was trying to scan every inch of me into his memory. “Do I owe you anything for the…” He paused, swallowing.
“Dance?” I offered, since he seemed at a loss for words. Then, I shook my head. “No, it’s been taken care of.”
“By Noah?”
I nodded, my mind going to the envelope of cash sitting on my dressing room mirror. I’d have to return some of that to him. It was way too much. “Something like that.”
He started toward the door and stopped, his hand hovering at the handle before he spun back to face me. In a swift motion, he rushed toward me, scooping his hand back into my hair, squeezing the strands, and tugging my head back as he took my mouth in a demanding kiss.
He pulled back, his breath heavy, chest rising and falling with each labored inhalation. “Come home with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
My pussy pulsed between my legs and I ached to feel his touch there once more. I wanted to say yes. For the first time in months, I wanted to go home with a man. Would it be so bad? Going home with a client? I’d heard about other dancers here at the club doing that. Hell, some of them did it for money. But I wasn’t a whore. If I was going home with him, it was solely for the pleasure of his mouth…his touch…his cock. And holy hell, what a cock it was. I’d only had a glimpse of it through his pants as I wrapped my hand around it, but it wasn’t small. And he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.
I wanted to blow off my second dance tonight. Desperately. But I needed the money. I needed to get on that stage and shake my ass at least one more time in order to make rent this month.
I stepped back, putting an arm’s length between us, and shook my head. “I-I can’t. I have another dance tonight.”
The liquid heat in his green eyes cooled immediately, but he nodded politely. “Of course.” He walked backwards toward the door, not turning away from me this time.
“And… I don’t get off work until after two—”
He put up a hand. “You don’t have to explain. Really. This is a job to you… I should have realized.”
My jaw nearly hit the floor. Did he think that what we’d just done in here was something I did regularly with clients? That I kissed them, let them finger me—that I grinded on their cocks? That this…what happened here was just matter-of-course for one of my private dances?
“Excuse me?” I said, my voice a harsh whisper and sounding just as incredulous as I felt.
He didn’t answer me. He was already out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.
