“I thought there was no touching.”
“Guests can’t touch, but I can touch all I want,” she whispers. “Do you want that? For me to touch you?”
Panicked, I look at Gabe, but Natasha turns my head back to hers, her ice-blue eyes are beautiful and unsettling, and I suddenly feel like a mouse caught in her teeth. She leans forward and kisses me. I’m so surprised, I don’t know how to react, but I know my instinct isn’t to push her away as her soft lips part and her tongue moves against mine. She writhes in my lap, and I buck my hips against hers, wanting more, seeking more pressure, more heat, more friction.
She slips her hand inside my jeans and circles my clit, giving me everything I was too ashamed to admit I wanted. I didn’t have the usual “lady love” college girl experience, it’s not something I ever felt the need to pursue. I like men, I’m in love with my best friend, but as Natasha’s fingers work me harder, everything else disappears but her warm breath on my face and her sweet, vanilla scent.And her expert fingers pushing me closer to the edge. It takes all of three seconds for my heart to explode and my orgasm to flood through me. I slip my hands into her hair and grab a fistful as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me and I cry out.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Natasha whispers. “Come for me.”
The door bursts open and reality slams into me. I jerk my hands free of her hair, and grimace at my lipstick smeared all over her mouth.
The bouncer who just bust in on us glares between us. “Everything alright here?”
“It’s fine, Tony. Just a little girl on girl love, is all,” Natasha says, as she climbs off my lap.
Tony looks me over, and then at Gabe, and he lowers his gaze as if he’d rather be anywhere else. I guess that makes two of us. He closes the door and Natasha slips into her gown, turning and standing in front of Gabe. He does up her zip, and she smiles up at him. “Orgasms are extra.”
His face is tight, and there’s a stiffness to his shoulders as he says, “But worth every fucking penny.”
Nice.I’m too all up in my damn head and euphoric feels to understand what the hell his mixed signals mean, but I no longer want to be here. I don’t know whether to hit him or thank him for paying a woman to fuck me in front of him, but tears of frustration and anger burn my eyes. I get up and head for the door.
“Lo, wait,” Gabe says.
I don’t listen as I stalk out into the hall. What the fuck just happened in there?What the hell am I doing?
I move through the dark hall toward the exit and a hand grasps my shoulder. “Lo—”
I whirl around and shove him. “What the hell was that?”
“You tell me, it looked like you were having a great time.”
“Well, I wasn’t.”
He grimaces, and shoots me a disbelieving look. “Are you fucking kidding me? You just came all over her hand.”
“A stripper’s hand! God only knows how many other people she’s touched tonight.”
“Lo ... that’s not what happens here, believe me. And no one forced you. If you wanted her to stop, you should have just said so.”
“Oh, but I just had to have a lap dance by Vegas’ best. Did you fuck her too, Gabe? Did she slip her hand into your jeans and jerk you off?”
“What? No.” He shakes his head. “Natasha is gay. You’re being crazy about this.”
“Did you know that would happen?”
“Did I know Natasha was going to shove her tongue down your fucking throat, slip her hand inside your panties, and play with your cunt until you came? No, Lo. Believe it or not, that was a first, and I don’t know if I’m completely okay with it.”
I frown. “Why wouldn’t you be okay with it?”
He leans in, pressing me against the wall. “Because that’s all I’ve fucking thought about today, and despite my raging hardon, I’m not crazy about Natasha stealing my fucking thunder.”
My mouth drops open with his admission. Gabe leans closer and swipes his thumb over my bottom lip, as if erasing Natasha’s kiss. I stare up at him, begging him to kiss me, to make good on his promise and this damn tattoo on my finger, and just fucking make mehisalready. He leans in, as if he’s about to finally give into this.To us.
I part my lips, and Gabe’s phone rings. Silently, I plead with him to ignore it, but he steps back, an apologetic frown on his face.
“I have to take this.” He walks back a few steps, and lifts the phone from his pocket and then turns his back on me. I clench my jaw so tightly I feel my teeth creak. I want to slide from the wall and melt into a puddle of goo, but I don’t because ... strip club.
I pull myself together and head toward the exit, no longer really caring if Gabe is following or not.