Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“We’ll see about that,” I say, standing and grabbing my drink. I swallow it in one go and set it down.
“Where are you going?” Lincoln asks.
“To book a private party for two.”
Only when I walk over to Violet, I realize I never got the dancer’s name. After Violet helps me out—and I learn her name is Sienna—I head back to room four and get comfortable. There are two hours left of Sienna’s shift, and I’ve booked her for the entire time.
The music starts, and I couldn’t tell you what song it is, only that it’s upbeat and pulsates against the four walls of the room. The woman sings about wanting someone to give her more, and all I can think about is how much more I want to give this dancer, a woman I’m desperate to get to know.
A second later, Sienna appears on stage, dressed in a shimmery silver number and tall as fuck matching heels. When she gets to the center, she pulls the material off, exposing tight silver shorts and a sparkly bra. Her full breasts are spilling out of the cups and her flat stomach is on display. As my gaze descends, I notice her thighs are toned, and as she saunters over to the pole, I can see the muscular definition in her calves. I don’t notice any piercings or tattoos on her skin. She’s flawless, and fuck, if that doesn’t make me want to leave my mark on her.
Her hands grip the pole and when she turns around, slowly bending over, my cock swells in my pants as I get a good look at her luscious ass that’s on display, imagining her bending over and letting me take a bite out of her plump ass cheek.
I watch, completely enthralled, as she works the pole over. The strip club is Lincoln’s area of expertise, but I’ve been in enough of them to know what good dancing looks like, and this woman knows what she’s doing. She’s sexy without appearing trashy. Seductive without it screaming desperate. She gets lost in the music, lost in her moves.
When the song transitions to the next, she smoothly removes her bra and moves from the pole to the front of the stage. She’s graceful like a ballerina, reminding me of the time my mom forced us to go see Swan Lake at the Metropolitan Opera House. It was boring as hell, and I’m pretty sure Lincoln and I both passed out halfway through it. But watching her reminds me of the way those dancers moved their bodies, with passion and rhythm. It doesn’t matter that she’s dancing in front of a stripper pole to some song laced with sexual innuendos or that she’s topless. Her every move is threaded with elegance and grace.
I know the moment she finally looks at me because her eyes lock with mine, widening fractionally with recognition. The same spark from earlier ignites in her gaze, and it’s clear that the chemistry I felt earlier wasn’t one sided. But as quickly as it comes, she snuffs it out, her expression turning distant and cold.
Since I paid for a lap dance, she glides down the stairs that connect the stage to the floor and stops in front of me. Some women are willing to get completely naked for lap dances since they make more money, but Violet told me Sienna only does topless, and she doesn’t allow touching. So, I sit back, drop my leg that was perched on my knee to the ground, and place my hands onto the arms of the chair, making it clear I’m ready and know the score.
She takes that as her cue and, turning around so her back is to me, swivels her hips seductively, shaking her ass from side to side. It takes everything in me not to grip her hips and pull her down to me, but I wouldn’t disrespect her like that. The women here deserve to feel safe. But that doesn’t stop me from trying to memorize every inch of her while she dances.
When she turns around, my eyes go to hers, searching for that heat, determined to light us aflame. Only she’s not looking at me—she’s looking through me—once again lost in her own world. She might be dancing for me, but really, she’s dancing for herself.
She dances in front of me for several seconds and then circles around my chair, stopping behind me. She leans in and slides her hands down my shoulders, along my chest and torso, stroking me seductively as she presses closer, her bare tits rubbing into my back. Her hands brush against either side of my groin, and if she were to move her hands a couple inches toward the middle, she’d feel just how turned on I am by her.
When her hair tickles the side of my face, I turn my head and inhale her scent. I don’t know what it is… something floral I’m guessing, but it fits her perfectly. Sweet yet delicate. And then she backs up, taking her scent and hands with her. My fingers itch to grab her and pull her back toward me, but I sit still, letting her run the show.