Authors: M. S. Parker
Then, suddenly, he was pulling away. His face was flushed, his breathing heavy, but he didn't look upset or concerned. He just pulled me up with him, tucked me against his side and went back to watching the soccer game.
“When does your flight leave?” he asked the question casually, like he hadn't just been groping me a couple minutes ago.
He was silent for a moment and then asked, “I was wondering if maybe you'd like to stay a bit longer.”
“Stay?” I pushed myself up so that I wasn't leaning on him anymore.
“In Philadelphia.” He looked over and smiled at me. “I'd like us to spend some more time together.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to refuse, to tell him I had to get back to Vegas and I couldn't afford to stay, but I didn't. The idea of staying in Philadelphia for a little while longer was actually appealing, which surprised me. I supposed I had Brock to thank for that.
“I'll pay for the hotel room, of course, as well as anything else you need.” He reached over and took my hand. “I understand if you're not comfortable with it, but I'd really like you to stay.”
“I'll have to see if I can get my roommate to cover my shifts,” I heard myself saying. I was rewarded with a wide and beautiful smile.
Rosa was actually glad to take my shifts, saying that her mother needed to have some tests done and any extra money she could make would be very helpful. She also warned me to not take off too much or else they'd find another girl to replace me. I wasn't sure what that said about the state of the economy if a place like The Diamond Club could so easily replace a stripper.
The second call I made that night when I returned to the hotel was to Anastascia. She was ecstatic, at first, to hear I was back, but when I told her why, her tone changed completely.
“Piper, that boy is a womanizing creep who's got more pussy than a cat shelter.”
I would've laughed if her words hadn't held an edge of condescension. “He's not like that, Anastascia,” I protested.
“Oh, no? Then why is it every time I've seen him, he has a different woman hanging on his arm? He didn't go to St. George with us, but our families move in the same circles. And, trust me, in our circle, Brock Michaels has a reputation for fucking and dumping.”
My jaw tightened. “Just because we don't move in the same circles doesn't mean I'm an idiot.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“Whatever, Ana,” I snapped. “I called because I wanted to let you know I was in the city for the week and see if you wanted to get together, but if you're just going to act like you know better, then it’s probably not a good idea.”
I hung up the phone before she could say anything else. My stomach hurt. I hated fighting with her, rare as it was. This time, though, it was more than just the argument. It was the fact that, for the first time in our friendship, she'd acted like there really was a difference between us because of money.
Her comments stuck in my head as I showered and curled up into bed. It took a long time for me to get to sleep. I kept remembering sex with Brock, and then how different it had been to make out with him. The feel of his hands on my body. And then I'd hear Anastascia telling me that he did this to a lot of women and how he was known in 'her circle.' By the time sleep finally claimed me, it was well past one in the morning.
I slept late, not waking until almost noon, and finally felt the last of the jet-lag slip away. Brock had already told me he had something to do during the day, but that we were going to go out tonight. I decided to take advantage of the lavish hotel and dug my bathing suit out of my bag. It was older than I would've liked, but I looked good in it and it still wore well.
I headed down to the pool and spent the next few hours doing laps, losing myself in the cool water and the rhythm of swimming. I'd always been a dancer, but swimming had been my second favorite way to stay in shape. I didn't get much of that in Vegas. There were plenty of hotels with pools, of course, but shabby apartment buildings like mine were lucky if the air worked.
By the time I went back to my room, I was hungry. Ordering room service, then lounging around until it was time for Brock to pick me up sounded like a perfect afternoon.
He said we were going to a club, but hadn't mentioned if it was one of the elite ones with a dress code. Since I didn't really have a lot of options, I went with what I'd worn to my audition at The Twilight Room. A short black miniskirt almost too short to be decent and a halter top that showed off my cleavage. With a pair of heels and the right make-up, it rode the line between hot and slutty. It was funny, I thought as I put the last dab of lip-gloss on, how much of my wardrobe rested on a fine line between something appropriate and something scandalous.
Brock grinned when I opened the door. “Damn, you look good.”
“Right back at you.”
He was wearing a pair of tight jeans that hugged his ass and drew attention to the bulge in the front, and his short-sleeved shirt made his eyes stand out, not to mention the way it showed off his muscular torso. I had no doubt that wherever we were going, he'd be getting quite a bit of female attention.
Anastascia's words came back and I frowned.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, let's go.”
The club was close enough for us to walk, though I suspected we'd take a cab back later tonight. It was closing in on nine o'clock so the street traffic was switching from the work force to those heading out for fun. We followed others in our age bracket, all dressed for various forms of entertainment, and soon turned down a street I recognized. A couple streets down, I saw a rainbow-flag and knew where we were going. It was the last straight club before we hit the section of town where all the clubs and bars were gay. Anastascia and I had come down here a couple times growing up.
“Here we are,” Brock said, leading me down some steps and through a set of glass doors.
Pulse-pounding music greeted us as we went through another set of doors, these designed to keep the noise inside. The place was dark, lit only by the brightly colored lights that moved in time with the music.
“Do you want a drink?” Brock leaned close to shout the question in my ear.
I nodded. “Nothing too hard,” I shouted back. I didn't want a repeat of the wedding reception. Well, at least not a repeat of the hangover part of it. I wasn't sure I'd mind a repeat of the sex.
We finished our drinks as we observed the scene, deciding where we wanted to go. I hadn't been big into the club scene, but two years working at a strip club would get anyone familiar with how things worked. Granted, The Diamond Club didn't exactly have a dance floor, but the concept was similar enough that I actually felt comfortable here.
“Ready to dance?” Brock yelled.
I nodded and he led me onto the floor. I was a bit surprised when he headed straight for the center, but went with it. As nervous as I'd get around a bunch of rich kids, put me anywhere with music playing and let me dance, and I was the most confident person in the world. It was the one place where it didn't matter how much money someone had. Either you could dance or you couldn't. And I could.
Brock put his hands on my waist and the two of us began to move together. Our bodies fell into a rhythm immediately and it didn't take long for the two of us to start getting admiring looks from the other people dancing around. One song blended into another and we kept going. The people around us changed, but we didn't even slow down. We lost ourselves in the music and, by the time we decided to take a break, it was close to midnight and we were both dripping with sweat. Brock ordered another round of drinks and then asked if I wanted to leave. Gazing into his eyes, it was clear he wasn't asking if I was ready to call it a night.
I thought of Anastascia and what she'd said. I thought of his note and the promise of ten thousand dollars. I found myself once again on the brink between my own desire and the moral standards that had once meant so much to me.
He hadn't said I had to have sex with him if I wanted the money. Hell, the first time we'd been together, I'd initiated it. Now, he was giving me a choice. If I said yes, what we did would be my decision. I would do it because I wanted to, not because of the money.
I also didn’t want to be with him to prove Anastascia wrong or because, in the back of my head, I knew that Reed was probably having sex with his wife right now and not thinking about me at all. I'd done well over the last two days and I didn't want to ruin it now. Sex with Brock had done been a soothing balm before, why couldn’t it be again? Besides, he was a nice guy and I liked him. That and how worked up I'd gotten from dancing seemed like good enough reasons.
He took my hand and we went out to get a cab.
We didn't talk or even do much touching on the ride to his apartment, only holding hands, but I felt like the cabbie's eyes were on me, accusing me. I kept my head down but in reality, I was used to being judged by those who didn’t know me, it had happened my entire life. I reminded myself that I really did like Brock and I'd be doing this even if he hadn't made the offer of extra money. I didn't listen to the voice that asked if my hotel room and food for the week wasn't payment enough.
By the time we reached the elevator, I was sick of the voices in my head and just wanted them to shut up or at least quiet down. As soon as the doors closed, I stepped into Brock’s arms, pressing my body close to his. As he wrapped his arms around me, I tilted my head and he leaned in, responding to my wordless request. When his tongue teased at the seam of my lips, I opened my mouth in invitation. He wasn't rough, but there was an edge that told me he wanted me and I pushed myself up on my toes to deepen the kiss. I wanted someone who wanted me. Only me.
One hand moved down to my ass, squeezing as his other hand fondled my breast through my shirt. I nipped at his tongue and he ground his hips into mine. Desire burned even hotter inside me and I reached between us to cup his erection. He spun us around so that my back was against the wall and the hand on my ass moved between my legs, shoving up my skirt until he could reach what he wanted.
I moaned into his mouth as his fingers pressed against me through the silk of my panties. I spread my legs as he rubbed the damp material, getting it more wet by the second. My eyes closed and I tried to concentrate on the way his tongue was thrusting into my mouth and the feel of his strong fingers through the silk. I only wanted to think of the physical. The way my arousal was spiking. The little ripples of pleasure that were radiating out from the center of me.
Then the doors were sliding open and he was pulling away, leaving me to tug my clothes back into place before following him out of the elevator. As soon as we were in the apartment and the door was closing behind us, he pulled me toward him for another kiss. I ran my hands over his firm chest and then down his stomach, enjoying the way the muscles twitched beneath my fingers.
“Baby,” he gasped as he broke the kiss. “I have to feel that velvet mouth around me.”
I grinned as I went to my knees, my hands working open his jeans, pushing them down until his cock was free. I shivered as I remembered how it felt to have that thick shaft pushing into me. I wrapped my hand around the base and then put my lips around the head. I tasted the salt from pre-cum as my tongue circled him. When I moved forward, he put his hands on my head, giving me gentle, guiding pressure. I took him as deep as I could without gagging, then started to pull back. His fingers tightened in my hair, but he didn't try to stop me.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned.
I increased the suction until I was at the tip and then started all over again. My hand covered what my mouth couldn't reach and it didn't take me long to get a good rhythm going. Little words of encouragement fell from Brock's mouth along with the moans I took as an indication I was doing something right. When his hands tightened this time, I pulled back completely. He nearly snarled in frustration as his dark eyes looked down at me.
“Can’t end the party too soon, can we?” I teased as I got to my feet.
With a growl, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I laughed as he carried me toward the bedroom, his pants still undone, his cock jutting out in front of him, leading the way. I bounced when he tossed me onto the bed and before I'd stopped, he was looming over me, his hands searching for the zipper on my skirt.
“I got it,” I said, quickly locating the zipper and shimmying it down my legs.
Brock pushed himself up on his knees and pulled off his shirt. Damn he was built. I let my eyes roam over him as I took off my top. Our clothes were on the floor in a matter of moments and I spread my legs in deliberate invitation. The hungry expression on his face was making me hungry too. He'd seen me naked before, but it was different this time. As for me, I was enjoying having my eyes explore every inch of his body.
He dropped between my legs, his hands curling around my hips as he yanked me closer to him. My squeal turned into a full-out wail when his mouth covered my pussy, his warm tongue sinking deep inside. He took long, strong licks from the center straight up to my clit, leaving fire in his wake. Each pass brought me closer to release and I rocked my hips, trying to get more friction where I needed it, but he held me fast and continued his torment.
Just when I thought I'd get there anyway, he stopped.
“No,” I protested as he rose to his knees.
A wicked gleam came into his eyes as he reached into the top drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a condom. He slid it on, rolling it slowly down his length, taking his time, enjoying this bit of tease.
Well, two could play at that game. I ran my hand down my stomach and between my legs, parting my folds with my fingers. My slick fingers slipped easily over the little bundle of nerves, while my other hand went to my breast, rolling my nipple between my fingers. I gasped, I was close, so close. I needed him inside me. Now.
His smile widened as he stroked himself, making sure everything was on just right. Before I could take myself over the edge, he was there again, knocking my hand out of the way. The moment he pushed inside me, I came.