The woman slowly wound around the man, her arms circling his back, one leg coming up to wrap around his hip. The man reached out, one meaty hand holding her leg in place as he thrust his groin against hers.
The music resumed, its beat heavy, sensual, almost tribal. The spotlight changed color, casting the couple in a soft golden haze. They began to dance, swaying to the beat, their gazes locked, bodies entwined.
Janelle grabbed her new drink, gulping from it, her hand trembling when she set it back on the table.
“Are you all right?” He whispered the question close to her ear, wishing the wig was gone. He wanted the real woman, not this fake one they’d both created.
She blinked up at him from behind the mask, her lush lips parting in surprise. “I’m fine, a little thirsty.”
“Just checking,” he said with a smile. He trailed his fingers along the slope of her shoulder, down her arm, then back up again.
She didn’t protest, which was a good thing. Returning her attention to the stage, she watched the couple continue their sensual dance, but Nate only had eyes for her.
He wanted her. He wanted to know if she liked hard kisses with thrusting tongues or slow, soft lingering kisses that lasted for hours. He wanted to know what it would be like, buried deep within her, having her wrap around him like she didn’t want to let go.
He wanted to know if she was loud in the throes of an intense orgasm or if she was restrained.
An instant erection surged against the fly of his pants and he shifted in his seat. She noticed, turning toward him with a questioning look, and he smiled at her, hoping she wouldn’t say anything.
She didn’t. She rested her hand on the inside of his thigh instead.
Nate grimaced. What the hell? The woman was trying to kill him. Not that he’d protest. Her touch was light yet her palm burned hot against his thigh. Her fingers played with the inside seam of his pants, flicking at it once, twice, three times. He tore his gaze away from her, desperate to get a hold of himself.
He needed to change the direction of his thoughts and try to forget the woman of his newfound dirty dreams was touching him. Arousing him.
Turning to watch the happenings on stage, he realized his mistake.
The woman’s arms were wrapped around the man’s neck and her head was thrown back, her chest like an offering to him. The man took it, the bra already tugged down below her breasts, her rosy nipples long and hard as he twisted first one then the other between his fingers. The woman gasped at his rough touch and the man pinched her nipples even harder, making her cry out. In pleasure or pain? Nate couldn’t quite tell.
He swore he could feel the entire crowd lean forward in anticipation, collective breaths held as they waited for the man’s next move. Nate leaned toward the stage as well, his breath lodged in his throat, his entire body hungry for what he was watching.
Hungry even more for the woman whose hand was slowly sliding farther up his thigh.
A rip sounded, loud and harsh in the quiet room as the man tore the delicate bra from the woman’s body and threw it off the stage. The black necklaces lay in stark contrast against her pale skin and the man curled the end of one necklace around his fist, tugging on it until it tightened around her neck and the woman moaned.
“Do you think they’re going to have sex up there?”
Janelle’s breathy question rang in his ears, vibrated throughout his entire body. She didn’t sound offended. No, more like she was curious, maybe a little aroused. Rapt in watching the performance, seemingly entranced by what unfolded in front of her, her hand kept stroking his thigh almost absently, making his hard on stand at full attention.
If she moved her hand up maybe another inch, she’d be touching him right where he wanted her.
He broke out in a lusty sweat just thinking about it.
The woman on stage went down on her knees before the man, her hands stroking his torso, her heavy breasts swaying with her movements. Her hands slid around the man, cupping his buttocks and she pulled him toward her, pressing her face against the front of his pants.
“This is unbelievable. I can’t believe they’re doing this,” Janelle murmured.
“I’ll say. Let’s get out of here.” He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take Janelle touch him while it was all unfolding before them on the stage.
The unmistakable sound of a zipper being drawn ripped through the air and Nate released his hold on Janelle, trying to slide out of the booth. The little show was getting way out of hand.
Damn if their hostess materialized out of nowhere, her arms crossed in front of her ample chest. “You can’t leave during the show sir, I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Uh, well, me and my lady need to get out of here, you know? We’re a little worked up over the performance.” He winked, hoping she’d fall for it.
Hell, she should. It was all true—at least for him.
The woman smiled, her straight white teeth practically glowing in the dark. “Honey, we’re all worked up and they’ve only just begun. Don’t worry though. You don’t need to let anything stop you. No one else does.”