She considers that. “Maybe I should try it.”
Fuck. That’s a pretty picture. Beth all oiled up, her soft white limbs slippery and glistening. “Maybe you should,” I breathe, sliding my hand over the curve of her ass. “It can be hard to reach all the nooks and crannies. I can help you with that.”
She looks at me with wide eyes, then buries her face in my chest.
I run a hand through her hair, letting the silky strands fall through my fingers. “Want to go home, baby?”
She bites her lip, then shakes her head. Pressed against her like this, I can feel her squeezing her thighs together under her dress.
I close my eyes, trying to keep it together. I should call us a taxi. We should drive home, and go back to the flat, and shag in a bed like adults. Beth deserves that much.
But then she shifts closer, twisting her hands in my shirt. “Please,” she whispers.
Screw it.
“Come with me,” I say, and take her hand, helping her off the stool and leading her through the crowd.
Thirty-Four
Beth
Cyrus pulls me behind the bar, through a doorway I hadn’t noticed. There’s aNo Entrancesign hanging over the knob, but he ignores it, yanking the door open and pushing us into another store room. This one is thankfully bigger than the broom closet in the dressing room; it’s dark and bare, full of shelves of lighting and crates of bottles. There’s a rickety-looking table pushed up against one of the walls, and a stack of black chairs near the doorway.
“Is this okay?” I whisper, crossing my arms over my chest. I’ve never had sex in a public building before, but I’m more than ready to start now. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life. Sweat is slicking my body. My pants aren’t just damp, they’re flat-out soaking.
Cyrus grins. “It’s a club, Bethie. People fuck in clubs. Jesus, Tony’s probably giving your friend a handy in the bathroom right now.” He locks the door behind us, then crowds me forward, pressing me into the table. I sit on it, kicking off my heels, and he looks at the pink nail polish sparkling on my toenails. “You are,” he says, “socute.”
I frown. I don’t really want to be cute right now.
I want to be hot.
Cyrus steps closer, coming to stand between my legs. “You liked the act?” He murmurs, setting his hands on my knees.
“God, yes.” I swallow hard as he runs his palms up my thighs, squeezing slightly. “I especially liked the bit where you—ah.” I wave at his crotch, blushing furiously.
He frowns. “Where I what?”
“You know.” I vaguely mime a rubbing motion.
I still cannot believe that he actually had me touch his dick during the performance. It was through his boxers, but still. My stomach flips as I remember his strong fingers guiding my hand over the fabric. The hot, solid heat of his hard-on cupped under my palm.
I squeeze my hands shut at my sides.
He blinks innocently. “I have no idea what you mean. Sorry.”
I narrow my eyes. “It’syourroutine.”
“I have a really bad memory. Can you show me?”
Rolling my eyes, I reach forward and press my hand over the bulge in his crotch, stroking him slowly through his pants. A low purr of satisfaction rumbles out of his chest. His eyes fall shut as I give his shaft a squeeze.
“I’m glad you liked it,” he murmurs, hitching up the skirt of my dress and pressing even closer. His hard package pushes between my legs, and my eyes flutter. Hot lips nudge my ear.“But I’m afraid you didn’t get to see all of it.”
“What?” I gasp, my voice embarrassingly breathy.
He leans forward and licks a line down the side of my throat. “There’s one move I didn’t do tonight.” He explains, running his hands up my thighs, slipping them up my dress. I squirm uncomfortably as his soft fingertips trace the lace lining my underwear. “I didn’t want anyone catching sight ofthese.” He hooks his fingers under my briefs, giving them a teasing tug. I lift my hips, and he drags them right off my legs, crumpling them in his hand—and then buries his face in them. I gape. It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.
He balls up the underwear and shoves it into his pocket, then wraps his solid arms around me, pulling me close.