“So, Sapphire,” he says, gesturing for me to sit close to him, “how long have you been dancing?”
That’s a safe enough question. “Several years.” I give him a teasing look. “How long have you been getting private dances?”
Derek laughs. “Would you believe me if I said tonight was my first?”
“Not a chance in hell.” I laugh too.
“Smart girl.” His lips fall into that sexy as sin smirk. “But it was the first one this good.”
No doubt. I’m not the most sought-after stripper for nothing. But still, his comment makes me smile. A real, true smile. Not the fake kind I normally use to placate my clients.
I tap my temple. “Just because I’m a stripper doesn’t mean I don’t have a brain.”
He turns toward me, interest in his eyes. “I don’t doubt that. You’re damn good at what you do. What did you do before this?”
I slant a puzzled look his way. Why is he asking all these questions like he actually cares? Shouldn’t he be paying up and heading out the door?
But I have to admit that I’m not ready for him to go. I’m actually enjoying talking with him. Still, I’m surprised when I find myself telling him about getting my degree in economics before I decided this was a better choice.
“Interesting,” he murmurs.
“What can I say?” I know my eyes are full of mischief. “I love sex.”
Derek drops his head back, laughter shaking his chest. “My kind of girl right there.”
“What about you? What do you do?” Only fair that he satisfies some of my growing curiosity.
He shrugs like it doesn’t matter, his eyes scanning me as if he’s trying to get a read on me. “I deal in foreign relations. You know, international business. That kind of shit.”
I take note of that accent again. “Where are you from?”
Derek’s eyebrows fly up. “What makes you think I’m from anywhere?”
“Your accent.”
“You noticed that?”
I give him a funny look. “Um, yeah. Was I not supposed to?”
He shakes his head, laughing. “It’s not that. I’m just surprised. Most people don’t notice. It’s not that obvious.”
“Maybe they haven’t been paying enough attention,” I tease, fingering the collar of his shirt. My eyes are drawn to his lips, and I swallow, jerking them away. Nope. Can’t go there. Even if he is the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen and just gave me a fucking mind-blowing orgasm.
“Maybe not,” he murmurs.
&nb
sp; “So, where are you from?”
“Europe,” he says evasively, then turns the questions back on me. “You always lived in New York?”
“Just since after college.”
“I like it here. I could get used to it.”
“What do you mean? You have to go back or something?” I ask, wondering why I feel such disappointment in that. I figure it must be because he’s obviously a very wealthy client and part of me had hoped he might become a regular. That would be a huge boost in growing my retirement fund. So much for that, though.
He nods. “Eventually. But for now? I’m here. All yours.” Derek stretches his arms wide and smiles, all bold arrogance again, as if he’s gracing me with his presence.