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Authors: Titania Ladley

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It read, “Dixie’s Dames”.

“What the fuck?” I shook my head. “Dixie’s Dames?”

She squealed and pressed her palms to her mouth. “Yes. Oh
god, yes. Isn’t it awesome?”

I narrowed my eyes. My jaw fell open while the men set out
to secure the sign above the door. “Um…Dixie, you do know brothels are illegal
in Florida, don’t you?”

“Ha ha, it’s not a
real
brothel, you moron.” She
slapped a hand on her hip. “It’s a new strip club and then some. Sort of like Puss
’N Tush. Well, like it was before the fire.”

“No way.”

“Yep. And it’s all mine.” She shot me that grin again. Her
eyes sparkled the way the emeralds had in one of the rings Jazmine had bought
herself during our marriage. And damn, those teeth of Dixie’s sparkled too, the
way the diamonds in that same ring had.

I interlaced my fingers and rested them on the top of my
head. The laugh that rumbled from my chest sounded stupidly giddy. “You’ve got
to be fucking kidding me.”

“Nope. C’mon. Let me show you the inside. They’re still
working on it, but you’ll get the idea.” She held her hand out and I took it
without hesitation.

Shit, did I ever want to see this. Curiosity and excitement
set my feet in motion. So did the softness of her palm and the way her fingers
barely curved around the butt of my much bigger hand.

She led me through the front doors. Bright construction
lights dangled from beams and perched near a huge circular bar, the surface and
sides still being built. Saws whirred and hammers banged. Men muttered and
bustled around the bar, slid out tape measures and studied architecture plans,
while other workers sat on the rim of yet another structure.

I stroked my jaw, now covered in a five o’clock
shadow—actually, five a.m. shadow plus several hours. “A mechanical bull?”

“Mm-hm. Only naked people’ll be allowed to ride it. Yeehaw,
buck-naked cowboys ’n cowgirls.” She twirled a short lock of hair around her
finger while wandering the room. The men eyed her. Fuckers needed bibs. They
practically drooled on their damn work shirts. She didn’t seem to care or
notice. She stepped over two-by-fours and tools and dodged piles of FedEx
boxes. I could only imagine what sorts of wicked things filled them.

“That’s it? A ‘strip club and then some’ consists of just a
bar and a mechanical bull for nude people?”

She fluttered her eyelids. So adorable and sexy. “Here now,
sugar. Do you really think a place named Dixie’s Dames would have anything in
the ‘just’ category?”

“Guess not.” I added a shrug. What else could I do or say
when a charming dame had just put me in my place?

“Come with me, handsome, and we’ll discuss those,
uh…categories in a bit more detail.”

She held out her hand yet again. Had she always enjoyed
handholding this much in the past?

I wrapped my fingers around hers, fascinated by the softness
of her skin and the delicateness of her touch. She led me over to a long
partition. It divided the main bar area from a more intimate space. Due to the
haphazard construction made from plywood and angled two-by-fours it appeared to
be a temporary marker for a future wall.

“Where are we going?”

“Remember when I said I wanted to stroke your cock and taste
it, and that I’ve had a renewed craving for it ever since I saw you last
night?”

I cleared my throat but came to the conclusion it was my
ears that needed to be cleared. “What?”

“You heard me, Frank.”

Yes, I’d heard her all right, but I couldn’t believe her
words. I’d assumed our “soliciting” conversation had turned out to be nothing
but a spar between us. But now I wasn’t certain. Hell, maybe it was my brain
that needed clearing. Or my cock.

“Okay, yes, I heard you. But—”

She pulled me toward her, worked her way into my arms and
guided me around so my back hit the wall opposite the partition. The space
exuded intimacy yet the workers’ activities continued in the room. All those
men were just feet away, joking, chuckling, electrical tools whirring and
hammers drumming.

She yanked my shirt up and circled her tongue around my
nipple. A flutter of fingers unfastened my jeans and slid down into my boxers.

Her hand closed around my half-erect cock.

I hissed. “Jesus.”

She looked up at me. Her gaze held mine. The wicked gleam
stirred my blood almost as much as her hand did. “Mmm, I bet you’re going to
taste so yummy.”

With each up-and-down motion of her palm along the length of
my dick, it seemed she did the same to my throat simply by her words. I
couldn’t breathe, could barely talk. And I could swear my damn balls were going
to explode at any minute.

“W-what about those categories?” A pointless thing to ask, I
knew, but if I didn’t distract myself before she “tasted” me, I
would
explode. Way too early. Right here and now in a setting not yet intended for
titillation.

Had she been this bold back then?

Her tongue did a swirly trek down my belly while her hands
yanked my pants and boxers to my knees. “Well, over here,” she whispered,
gesturing to the corner, “there’ll be lots of beds for gang bangs or sex play
of any sort, along with spectator seats.”

She kissed my hips, avoiding my cock, now fully hard and throbbing
like a son of a bitch. Her hand closed around the base, just above my balls.

I slapped the wall on either side of me and prayed my
trembling legs wouldn’t give out on me. “Sounds…sounds like an excellent idea.”

Her mouth pursed and she set her lips on the tip of my
penis, faint as a feather yet with enough electricity to send a shock straight
to my heart. “Foot massage chairs and massage tables’ll be over yonder, and let
me tell you, these ain’t gonna be your ordinary massages—if you know what I
mean…”

“Yes, I think I do. I’ll bet there’ll be nothing ordinary
about it.”

The wet blade of her tongue skated around my cock in a
random path. She took a slurp and smacked her lips. “Uhn-uhn-uuhn. Oh yeah,
tastes way better than I remember.”

My head fell back and slammed against the wall. “Ah, Dixie,
what the
hell
are you doing to me?” I could barely talk. My voice
sounded just short of that thirty seconds of bliss that washes through a man
before coming.

“Why, I’m discussing my club with you, sweetheart.” Her hand
stroked upward, her mouth came down on me, pulling about half of my cock past
her lips, just as she’d warned she’d do.

I groaned and closed my eyes, my arousal heightened by the
dusty smell of sawdust, the grind of tools, country music blasting from a
contractor’s iPod deck, deep voices and—oh god, help me—the warm wetness of her
tongue exploring my dick.

“And over there in a separate little room,” she said in a
muffled voice while gesturing to another corner, “will be a huge hot tub, a
steamy sauna and—” She slurped and sucked me, luring me closer to release. “And
I’ll have sex swings dangling around the room and above the dance floor,
private ‘escort’ rooms upstairs, porno movies on flat screens everywhere and of
course strippers. But that’s only the beginning.”

I looked down the length of my stomach.

Her gaze never left mine. She lifted her shirt and dragged
her taut brown nipples over my balls.

I hissed and finally gave in to the urge to tangle my hands
in her thick hair. “Besides the obvious, what do you want from me, Dixie?”

“I want you. I’m soliciting you.” She reached up and scraped
her fingernails from my chest, down my stomach and around to my ass just the
way she used to.

A shiver rippled up my spine. My asshole tingled. I
tightened my ass muscles to ward off her probing finger and jerked her head
closer so her mouth pressed against my erection. “For what? What the hell is
this all about?”

She tipped her head to the side and dragged her lips up and
down my cock. When her mouth reached the tip, she licked away the drop of
pre-cum and whispered, “I’m ‘whoring’ myself. I’ll finish sucking you off if
you agree to quit your cop job and become the head of security here. I need
someone desperately. Someone I can trust and someone I know can do the job.”

The old scattered puzzle pieces started to come together.
This wasn’t about rekindling an old relationship. It was business. Pure and
simple business.

But had I wanted it to be more? No. No, I hadn’t.

Then why did disappointment sag in my gut as if I’d choked
down a huge rock?

I shook it off, knowing the last thing I needed following
that fiasco with Jaz and Gio was to jump right into another woman’s bed whether
I knew them or not.

However, I could use relief from the torture this tease had
inflicted on me in fifteen minutes flat.

“Trust?” I slid my thumbs under her chin and tipped her head
back, forcing her to gaze directly into my eyes. “You really think you can
trust me after I put you through so much hell and then dumped you like an
arrogant jerk?”

Her jaw tensed beneath my fingers. She narrowed her eyes.
“I’ve clawed my way out of hell. And you’re still an arrogant jerk. But that
doesn’t change the fact that I need you. I need you to help me, and if you
refuse then I refuse to…finish you off and swallow.”

“You’re a witch.”

“Well, you’re a demon.” She trailed her tongue along the
veiny surface of my dick and circled it around the head.

I fought to keep my teeth from grinding and the fire in my
groin from incinerating my balls. It would normally have been the only thing on
my mind in an erotic situation like this yet her proposition piqued my
interest.

I’d love to turn my badge in.

But did I want to go from a job based on morality and honor
to one based on sinfulness, corruption and possible criminality?

Dixie took my cock deep into her throat, her warmth capping
the head of my prick. She picked up the pace and sucked me right to the edge of
orgasm.

“What do you say, Frank?” She sucked and licked some more.
“Will you work for me?”

Work for her?
She
was working for
me
at the
moment.

My sac tightened and ached. I needed to come or I’d die. I’d
scream so loud I’d have the whole crew rushing over to investigate.
Evidently—based on that wicked look of hers and her excellent “whoring” and
“soliciting” skills—Dixie recalled how to torture me. She bobbed and sucked and
licked some more, bringing me to the brink of insanity.

“Well?” Her eyebrows arched.

What else could I say? What else could I do? Say, “No, I
won’t work for you” and walk away from the bliss that loomed just seconds away?

Hell no.

“Okay, Dixie. You win. I’ll quit my job and come to work for
you.” I yanked her head up by the hair.

She whimpered but her eyes smoldered with desire.

I guided her mouth to my cock and said, “But first I’m going
to ‘come’ in your mouth.”

The groan that erupted from her chest vibrated up my dick. I
could swear her mouth curled in a smile around my cock.

But all I cared about was getting off. I tightened my
fingers in the hair on her scalp and jerked up and down so her mouth stroked
me. Ah. There it was. My head clunked against the wall and I released a howl of
ecstasy. The orgasm barreled over me. My cum shot into her throat.

Just as she’d promised, she swallowed it then licked and
smacked her lips. “Mmm, you taste even better than I remember.”

Damn.

I guess that meant I had to hold up my end of the bargain
too. I’d agreed a minute ago simply to get relief.

Now that I thought about it without the distraction of this
hot piece of ass teasing me to insanity, it just might be an interesting
change.

I guess I’d work for her.

And pray to hell she’d continue to solicit me.

 

About Titania Ladley

 

Titania Ladley is a multi-published erotic romance author
and registered nurse living in the upper Midwest USA with her husband and teen
son. She has been published with Ellora's Cave since 2004 writing in various
genres including paranormal, historical, contemporary, male/male, gay/lesbian,
menage, vampire, sci-fi, and light BDSM. She also writes for Ellora's Cave
under the pseudonym Roxana Blaze.

 

Titania welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

 

 

 

 

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Also by
Titania
Ladley

 

Bat
Scratch Fever

Curse of the
Black Widow

Heads
or Tails?

Jennie
in a Bottle

Kaydee
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Lipstick
Leslee

Me
Tarzan, You Jewel

Moonlight
Mirage

Naughty
& Spice

Pretty
in Kink

Spell of the
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Strip
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Sultan
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Thieves
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Thieves
& Lovers 2: A Gypsy’s Thief

Thieves
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Wilder’s
Bandit

You’ve Got Irish
Male

Print books by Titania Ladley

 

Jennie in a Bottle

Me Tarzan, You
Jewel

Moonlite
Mirage

More
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anthology

Thieves
& Lovers 1: A Wanton’s Thief

Thieves
& Lovers 2: A Gypsy’s Thief

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

 

 

www.ellorascave.com

 

 

 

 

Double-Team Her

 

ISBN 9781419991295

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Double-Team Her Copyright © 2014 Titania Ladley

 

Edited by Grace Bradley

Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill

Cover photography by 123rf.com: Vitaly Valua, Vasily Pindyurin,
Georgios Kollidas, Adam Radosavljevic, denchik

 

Electronic book publication March 2014

 

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of
Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

 

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not
be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written
permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home
Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

 

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
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Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the
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