Set Loose (7 page)

“Is there a problem, here?” Steve asked, coming toward them down the hallway, his habitual scowl firmly in place.

“No, no problem,” Cutter replied, looking a touch guilty. “I was just heading onto the floor.”

Cutter walked away and Steve looked Emily up and down. “Nice, babe. They’re gonna love it.”

And they did love it. It was her best performance so far, certainly her most creative, and she even did it to instrumental music with a lot of sitar and exotic flair. One by one she sent each veil drifting down to the stage, the men watching her like she was the sexist woman on earth. And she felt like it, too. She was a woman out of mythology, a biblical seductress come to life to mesmerize her followers. Her body floated through the air, and she could almost smell the incense burning, feel the hot wind.

Then she looked out into the audience and there was Cutter, caught up in her spell. following every move like she knew he would be.

By the time she came off stage she was as aroused as the audience, her mind full of Cutter and their wild kiss.

But she couldn’t get near him. He kept his distance the rest of the night, paying attention to her only when she was onstage. She knew him well enough by now to understand that he watched her reluctantly, against his will. Which meant he felt something for her and was trying to deny it. But why?

She walked offstage after her third striptease, emptied her money into her locker, and headed back out to work the floor, her engines revving. Between stripping and watching Cutter without being able to touch him, she was feeling dangerous.

She strolled around the room, leaning closer to the patrons than usual, touching an arm, throwing her head back and laughing at every effort to amuse her. Another girl started dancing to “Some Girls,” a naughty and politically incorrect song that only made her hotter.

Then she spotted Cutter sitting at a table talking to two other men. The way they were laughing, it looked like he probably knew them. Maybe he was on break, though he didn’t usually hang out in the audience.

God, he was gorgeous. His long legs were stretched out alongside the table, a muscled arm hooked over the side of the chair. He could have been a model, one of those men gazing out of magazines and making every other man you saw look bad. Except he was right here, and she knew his kisses were fierce and hot and unbelievably sexy.

She walked over to his table and stood smiling at the two men seated with him.

“Would you two fellas like to buy your friend here a lap dance? He looks like he could use a little fun.”

The two guys looked at each other and grinned, but Cutter sat up and stared at her. “What are you talking about? You never do lap dances.”

“Hell yeah, we’ll pay for a lap dance, honey,” his friend said. “Make it a good one. Cutter here takes things too seriously.”

Cutter started to get up, but she was through letting him walk away. One hand on his shoulder to keep him in place, she leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Don’t worry. This won’t hurt a bit.”

***

Cutter didn’t know if he was in heaven or hell. His mind seemed to freeze as Emily let out a husky laugh and swung one long, bare leg over his lap and her sweet ass settled right on his cock, which had already grown hard. Then again, he’d pretty much been hard since he met her. His hands automatically went to her hips, whether to hold her to him or push her away, he had no idea.

Her skin shimmered in the lights, so pale next to his own. His hands were moving over her, restless to feel every inch of her. She smiled a wicked smile and then arched her back, thrusting her perfect little breasts up until it was all he could do not to bend over and take one in his mouth.

He knew better than anyone what the rules for lap dances were, and he was already breaking them. But she wanted him to, he could feel it. She was taunting him, trying to get him to react.

She rose up until her breasts were only a few inches from his mouth, then sank back down, letting them brush against his chest. Then she began riding him in earnest, teasing his cock with every x-rated move. She was like a lioness he’d watched on one of those nature shows. Fierce but relaxed and totally in control as she went in for the kill. Within a minute he was painfully hard, desperate to enter her and furious that she’d driven him to the edge in a public place.

He grabbed her arms and pushed her back until she looked at him, her eyes heavy and dazed with desire.

She wasn’t playing with him. This is what she’d looked like that night in her room, right before the damn phone had rung. It took her a few seconds to focus, but whatever she saw in his expression startled her. In one smooth motion she slipped off his lap.

Frank and Scott looked between him and Emily with confusion. Then Frank smiled and held out a fifty-dollar bill. Emily shook her head and took a step back.

“That one was on the house,” she said, her voice shaky. Then she turned and walked away without looking back.

“Holy shit, dude. What was that?” Scott asked.

“I’m not sure, but I’m sure as hell going to find out.”

Blood pumping madly through his veins, he strode across the room. It was all he could do not to break out in a run. Furious, aroused and confused, he headed straight for the dressing room. Emily was just tying the belt on her silky blue robe when he got there. She raised a brow at him but didn’t say a word.

Two other women were in there getting ready.

“Hey sweetie, you need something?” Cheryl asked.

“I just need to talk to Emily for a second,” he said, trying to sound causal.

He smiled tightly, hoping no one noticed his throbbing hard-on.

“Go on, Emily. Don’t keep the man waiting,” Cheryl said, giving Emily a little push toward him.

Cutter let her precede him out of the room, ignoring the avid looks from the other women. Out in the hallway he urged her forward until they reached a closed door.

“In here,” he ordered, reaching around her to open the supply closet.

She looked up at him, hesitating as if she’d lost whatever nerve she’d had, but he wasn’t backing down. Finally she relented and walked inside.

He closed the door behind them and locked it.

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” he asked, moving toward her until her back was against the door. But even as he asked, another part of his brain answered:
Who cares?

She was still in her fuck-me heels, but even so he was a good six inches taller than her. He pushed her long, silken hair off her shoulder and smoothed his palm over her skin, unable to keep from touching her. She trembled and a pulse throbbed in her neck.

She looked up at him, her lush mouth set in a stubborn pout, her eyes defiant and uncertain. “Maybe I wanted you to see what you were missing.”

“You’re killing me, Emily,” he said, his voice coming out rough and desperate.

But he was done talking, done caring about the fallout. He wanted her now.

His mouth slanted down over hers, the first taste of her nearly bringing him to his knees. She opened for him immediately, her whimper of need driving him even more insane. Kissing her was like drinking from a well in the desert, and he couldn’t stop. Her lips were soft, her mouth tasting faintly of red wine, and he dove into her again and again, his tongue dancing with hers, insistent and demanding.

She molded herself to him without hesitation, her robe falling open so that he could feel the heat of her bare breasts and thighs. He pressed himself to her, letting her feel his full arousal, driving himself crazy. Her hands ran over him, restlessly touching everywhere, sliding under his shirt where her nails dug into him, urging him on.

He was so far gone, all he could think about was pulling his cock out and driving into her, making her call his name, feeling her tight heat around him. The need was so desperate and real he pulled back, closing his eyes as he tried to gain some semblance of control.

Chapter Five

Emily’s eyes drifted open and she looked dazedly at Cutter, still in her arms but now pulled slightly back, his face tense with need and restraint.

“Why did you stop?” she asked, her voice coming out husky and full of naked desire.

She no longer cared.

“I’m trying not to act like a damn animal.”

“Maybe I want you to,” you said, her fingernails raking his back, pulling him to her, offering herself to him without reservation.

It was as if she’d raised the door of a cage. His eyes darkened and he looked at her for the space of a heartbeat. Then his mouth took hers again, his tongue filling her, demanding everything she had. Her legs trembled and her clit swelled and throbbed, the thin strip of her thong abrading her into a near frenzy.

A moment later she felt his hands at her shoulders and then the silken whisper as her robe pooled at her feet. He groaned her name, his voice low and rough as his hands cupped her breasts, toying with the tight buds. His hands were big and calloused, a workingman’s hands, and they roamed over every inch of her feverish skin. His breath was ragged as he ran a hand over her hip to her thigh, sliding his fingers beneath the tight band of her garter.

She needed to feel him. Her fingers trembled as they worked at the buttons of his shirt, slowing her down until she groaned in frustration. Cutter let out a husky laugh and pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. She rested her palms on his chest, holding him still so that she could look her fill.

The only light came from the neon signs outside the high window, but even so she could see the contours of his muscles. His chest was smooth and perfectly defined, an artist’s rendering of what a man should be. Needing to explore him, to make him hers, she ran her hands over his chest and stomach, lingering on the fine ridges of muscle above his pants. Bolder now, she pressed her hand against the huge bulge straining against his zipper, smiling with satisfaction at his pained groan.

But even that wasn’t enough. She was aching for him, hollow with need as she worked franticly to get her hands on him. She listened to the delicious sound of his labored breathing as she released his huge erection, running her hand up and down in pure feminine approval. He tried to press her back against the wall, but she eluded him, dropping to the floor to take him in her mouth.

Never had she felt so carnal, so desperate to take everything a man had to offer, to give him every kind of pleasure. She knelt on her robe and took him into her mouth, the tension in him nearly singing as she sucked him.

His hands went rigid in her hair as she played with him, using her hand in time with her mouth. As powerful and in control as he usually was, she made him tremble and pant her name right alongside God’s. Her own excitement rose alongside his, everything in her alive to his warm skin and thrashing pulse.

Then he pulled her up, his hands fisting in her hair as he tipped her head back to receive his desperate, almost painful kiss. His hand covered her pussy, pulling a long moan out of her. She clutched his arms to keep from melting to the floor as one strong finger slipped beneath her thong and stroked until she was writhing against him. His mouth left hers to close over a nipple, sucking and lightly biting as his fingers slid into her, again and again.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, his voice raw.

“Please, Cutter,” she said, nearly sobbing with need.

He leaned his forehead against hers as his breath heaved in and out. “I don’t have any protection.”

“It’s a strip club,” Emily said, half crazed with desperation. “There have to be condoms somewhere. What about the men’s bathroom?”

“Right. Wait here while I –”

“Cutter, look behind you,” she said, pointing to a box on the shelf behind him. It was a supply closet after all, and they now had at their disposal the biggest box of condoms she’d ever laid eyes on.

“Praise Jesus,” he breathed, pulling the box down.

He took a packet out and ripped it with his teeth while Emily stroked him, desperate to get him inside her.

He sheathed himself and then his hands were under her ass, easily lifting her up and pressing her back against the wall.

“You want this, Emily?” he asked, his expression fierce, his face taut as he held himself in check.

“God, yes,” she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist and gripping his shoulders.

Without another word he pulled her thong aside, entering her in one tortuously slow stroke. Her head fell back and she arched in pure ecstasy, taking him in as deep as he’d go.

“You feel amazing. So tight,” he said, his praise given between ragged breaths.

Her fingers dug deeper into his shoulders with each powerful thrust as he drove into her, hitting her sweet spot until she could hardly bear it. He filled her exquisitely, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until she was sobbing with need.

“You want to come, baby?” he asked.

Wordlessly she nodded, too far gone for speech, the feel of him between her splayed legs beyond anything she’d ever known.

“Touch yourself,” he whispered in her ear, his voice a dark seduction.

She looked at him uncertainly.

“Go on, show me how you do it.

He watched as she took one hand from his shoulder and brought it between them to stroke her painfully throbbing clit. He stayed with her, keeping her pace, thrusting in time with her rhythm until she didn’t know where he ended and she began. They were just bodies coming together as if they’d been made for each other, their skin slick with sweat.

Sensation built until it was nearly unbearable, her thoughts narrowing to the vortex of pleasure pulling her under. She hovered on the peak for endless seconds and then broke around him with such violence he had to hold her to him. She was still drifting back down when he spread her legs wider and thrust home, burying his face in her neck as his cock pulsed inside her and his big body shook in release.

Her eyes were still closed, her body boneless, but Cutter had hold of her. His face was still buried in her neck, his cock still inside her. Their hearts beat almost in time, slowing down as the seconds passed. She wanted just a few more minutes breathing in the glorious scents of sex and sweat, a musky combination that should have been indecent. A few more minutes of this intimate, hard-won knowledge of how he felt and looked and sounded.