Page 18 of Undeniably Corrupt
He chuckles and runs his hands back through his hair. “That’s a question I can’t answer without sounding like more of an asshole, so I’ll simply say I don’t want you to strip right now.”
“Oh, but later will be fine for you?”
“No. It wouldn’t be fine because I don’t want you to strip for anyone else.” He growls in frustration. “Fuck, Liora! You’re fucking up my brain. I’m here to apologize, and nothing I’m saying is coming out right.”
I climb off the stage and use the toe of my heel to kick his knees together and push his chest back until he’s sitting against the high back of the booth. Then I climb on top of him, watching his face, ignoring the heat dancing in his eyes before I settle on his lap.
“I don’t want your apology. There’s nothing you can say that will undo what you’ve done.”
He opens his mouth to say something, and I shush him with a finger.
“You know, I’ve grown to hate men over the years. Even Cassian a bit, though that messes me up. But I didn’t hate you. Not until now. Now you’re as bad as my father and my ex and even the fucker on the corner from my building who likes to heckle me.”
He stiffens. “I’ll get to your father in a second, but what fucker on the corner?”
I laugh. “What does it matter?”
He glares, and his hard expression throws me. “Tell me.”
Shocked by his reaction, I answer. “He’s just a dealer. He knows I dance here, and therefore he thinks I’m cheap andeasy. He says stuff. Occasionally tries to get handsy. That’s all.”
“What does he look like?”
“Why?”
“Fucking tell me, Liora.”
My eyebrows knit. “Tall, dark hair, tattoos on his arms and neck, and a cross on his left cheek below his eye.”
He swallows and nods. “What about your dad?”
I shake my head and start to grind on him.
His pupils blow out, and he stiffens. “What are you doing?”
“My job.”
I put one hand on the top of the bench beside his head and I hold on as I arch my back and let my hair that’s up in a high ponytail fall behind me.
“Stop. I don’t want you to dance for me.”
“But that’s what you paid for.” I grind down on him, feeling his cock harden in his jeans.
“Goddammit, Liora. I just want to talk.”
I smirk. His voice is shredded with desire, and his jaw is locked tight. He’s miserable and turned on at the same time. “Then talk.”
He reaches out for my hips to stop me, and I shake my head and make a tsking noise.
“You can’t touch the dancers.”
“Then stop grinding on my dick.”
I move my other hand to the other side of his head, putting my pushed-up tits practically in his face. “Is that really what you want?” I purr, riding him now as if I were fucking him.
“You’re trying to torture me.”
“Yes. That’s also part of my job.”
