Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
It’s such a sexy beat. The bass overtakes my body a nanosecond after Caleb plucks me onto the stage to stand next to him. I showcase the moves by heart, my smile uncontained, and my earlier fear nowhere to be seen.
Heidi, Kyla, Bailey, Laurel, and Rylee scream like they’re front row at a Magic Mike show when Caleb and I roll our hips in sync during the chorus. Caleb knows the choreography so well when he executes the sideways hip flick with perfection, he tugs on the material of his gray sweatpants to give his crotch extra coverage.
His efforts are stellar, but there’s no changing the outcome. He’s wearing sweatpants, and like all women during winter, every pair of female eyes in the room zoom in on the area he’s trying to portray doesn’t have a trapped Tigger bouncing in his underwear.
Caleb smiles and winks at me when he learns the reason for my sluggish dance moves before he adds a remix to the trending routine. Instead of dragging his hands over his body during the chorus, he drags the hem of his shirt up his rock-hard abs until portions of his chest tattoos are exposed to my suddenly dry eyes.
His abs and tattooed pecs stop me in my tracks, but Heidi’s traitorous ass has the thumping movements of my feet moving to another region. She doesn’t assist me off the stage so I don’t trip over my tongue. Instead, she tosses her chair onto the battered wood before forcing me into the seat her butt is meant to be occupying since it’s her bachelorette party.
I mouth my thanks to Heidi when Caleb takes his role of stripper seriously. He thrusts his crotch in my face, straddles my lap, and even with him stating he doesn’t want to be touched, drags my hands across the bumps I was mesmerized by only seconds ago.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” I shout to project my voice over the roaring chants of my sorority sisters. They’re having the time of their lives, and they are not the ones getting a front-row seat to Caleb’s panty-wetting performance.
Caleb answers me with a wink before he scares the living the hell out of me by dipping my chair back without warning. I squeal along with Heidi’s friends when he rocks his hips against mine like there isn’t a foot of air wedged between us.
After grinding against me enough times to convince me I could dry hump my way to climax, he asks, “What makes you say that?”
If he’s expecting me to answer him, he needs to go back to puberty and start adulthood all over again. He’s holding me and a bulky wooden chair off the floor as if we’re weightless while rolling his hips like we’re seconds away from getting freaky for real. Talking is beyond my capabilities right now. It’s taking everything I have not to choke on my tongue.
Caleb must not realize that because two seconds later, he mutters, “Jess…”
“Yeah,” I ask after swallowing my spit to ensure I don’t drool like a baby.
I’m tempted to check my mouth for a wet patch when Caleb smiles at the weak deliverance of my reply before muttering, “Hold on.”
“To?”
He answers me by hoisting me off the chair for the big finale.
Regretfully, it isn’t as naughty as my deviant mind is thinking. It doesn’t start with an O-formed mouth and end with fireworks lighting up the sky, but it certainly has me hopeful Caleb’s dance moves won’t be the only ones I’ll be riveted by tonight.
CHAPTER 3
CALEB
When Jess spins to face me, her smile is as large as it was when I glued her to my body before sliding it down it for the last part of our performance. “I don’t care what you say, Pinocchio.” I grin when she pretends to squash her nose back to its original size with her palm. “You’ve done that routine before. More than once.”
“I haven’t, I swear.” I’m the worst liar, but it isn’t as she’s thinking. When your best friend is a girl, and you’d do anything for her, you’ll watch Magic Mike movies on repeat for a month if it’s the only way she’ll forget the woes of her life for an hour or two.
Octavia wasn’t exactly broken before we moved to Seattle, but she was close to the brink. The only time she smiled was when I faked the infamous Magic Mike chair routine after a few too many drinks on our twenty-fourth birthday. I ended our night with bruised ribs and a battered lung, but it was worth it to see her smile.
After shaking my head to rid it of dick-shrinking thoughts, I shift my focus back to Jess. I don’t know how they strayed from her for even a minute. Her dance moves on what was meant to be a twenty-minute routine had my cock aching to sink into her, then she upped the ante with the provocative moves she’s unleashed on the dance floor the past two hours.