“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to talk about exes anymore. We’ve done that, and here I am in the bathtub with you and candles are lit and music is playing, and you’re hard because you’re always hard, and it seems like now would be a good time for us to stop talking and start doing other things.”
She stood up, reached for a towel, and dried off. Within a minute she was in his closet, selecting a white shirt and a cobalt blue tie to wear.
Chapter Ten
Lucky tie.
Knotted loosely at her neck, his power tie hung enticingly between her br**sts, traveling down to her luscious belly button, then, like an arrow, pointing to the treasure that lay beneath her black lace panties.
She wore one of his shirts, freshly laundered and unbuttoned, and a pair of black stockings and heels.
Hottest. Outfit. Ever.
“Sit down, Mister,” she instructed, pointing to the gray chair in the corner of his bedroom. The chair was usually home to whatever tie or shirt he’d tossed off at the end of the day. Now, he was parked in it, leaning back, getting ready for a show. He wore only a white towel, wrapped around his waist. His hair was wet from the bath.
She leaned forward, pressing play on her phone, giving him a delicious view of her br**sts. Christina Aguilera’s Candyman filled his bedroom, the pulsing beat deepening the already sexy mood. The lights were low, except for the one by the nightstand. He wasn’t turning them off. He wanted to watch. He wanted to see everything.
As the opening notes sounded, she strutted over to him, and traced her fingernails along his neck, heating up his skin. “Welcome to the Girls in Ties club,” she said with a purr.
“My favorite kind of club.”
She ran her hand down his arm; her touch felt electric. “I have a feeling you will like our services.”
“Does this club allow touching, ma’am? I don’t want to break any rules.”
“Only with certain patrons,” she said, then swiveled around and walked the other direction, giving him a fantastic look at her ass in her thong underwear. What he wouldn’t do to tear that underwear off with his teeth right now. Bend her over, get on his knees, and pull hard til they ripped off her, revealing her beautiful, wet pu**y.
His imagination was already in overdrive. She turned, bent forward and shook out her gorgeous hair, as strands of sleek, wet red tumbled along her legs. When she flipped up her head, she swayed her hips back and forth.
Provocatively.
Oh so provocatively that his c**k made a full tent of the towel.
She eyed his erection, her lips curving up in a wicked grin. “I see our club pleases you.”
“It pleases me so very much,” he said.
“Let’s see if we can help you appreciate it here even more,” she said, pressing her hands to her belly, then running them up her stomach, as she begin playing with the buttons on his shirt.
Peekaboo. Showing one breast, then hiding it under the fabric. Then the other. She yanked the shirt closed, feigning innocence as she spun around, her hands on her knees now, shaking that delicious ass for him as the chorus of the song played loud.
A growl rose up in his chest, and his dick throbbed. He ached to take her, to touch her, to be inside her. He was a high tension wire. Taut. But he waited patiently, his hands on his thighs, letting her play the part as she returned to him, her heels clicking against the hard wood floor.
When she reached him, she set her hands on his legs, slowly shimmying her hips as she danced. “The staff at Girls in Ties says you ordered a lap dance.”
“Did I now?”
She trailed a hand along his thigh, teasing him with her nearness to his cock. “Did you want one?”
“I do when you take off that shirt.”
She arched an eyebrow and opened one side of his shirt, then pressed her right breast against his chest. “Can I do this then?”
“Yes,” he grunted, his entire body rigid as he refused to move, to give into his desire to touch her all over, and to be touched.
She opened the other side now, revealing her chest to him. “And this?” She moved in closer, like a cat arching its back as she rubbed her br**sts against him. He inhaled sharply through his nostrils. His fingers twitched with the desire to grab her hips, slam her down on his painfully hard erection. But he kept his palms spread on his legs as she tugged off one sleeve, then another, dropping the white shirt onto the floor. She turned around, wearing only her thong, stockings, heels and his tie. She lowered herself onto his thighs, still covered in his towel.
“Oh my, it seems you like a lap dance, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he said in a strained voice, his hands itching to hold her.
She gyrated up and down, teasing him as she brought her delicious ass dangerously close to his erection, but not close enough. She wriggled lower, and once, just once, ground against him. He hissed out a harsh breath. He could feel her heat through his towel.
“You’re soaked,” he said.
She turned around, planting one high heeled foot on the arm of the chair, the other firmly on the ground, as she rocked her hips towards him. “No, sir. I am slippery. I thought we established this already.”
“Let me find out how wet you are.”
“Only if I can find out how hard you are,” she said, punctuating her retort with a thrust of her hips close to his face. He could smell her arousal, the delicious scent of her pu**y so near to him. He wanted to inhale her, to be drenched in her juices. No longer able to restrain himself, he lifted a hand, and hooked his finger into the waistband of her panties, stretching the cotton panel against her.