“You looked a little shaken up tonight. Everything okay?” Danny asks.
“Not you too, Dan, come on.”
He lifts his hands in defense and gives me a cheeky smile, handing my water to me. He’s so cute. The abnormally large indent of his dimple makes him adorable, but I could never go there with him—I could never go there with anyone except my stupid ex-husband.
The reminder of our conversation and his confession of finally getting what I secretly always dreamed about slices through me like a hot knife through butter. My smile fades as I remember his words again, over and over like a broken record in my brain.
It was you, Magnolia. You’re the defective one, not me.
“Hey, listen,” says a voice from behind me.
I shake myself back to the present and turn, my eyes widening at the man sitting in the front row, infecting my brain, and almost ruining my routine.
Landry.
The man I've dreamt about since breaking down in front of a damn Christmas tree stand last month. I cross my arms over my chest, arching an eyebrow, pretending I don't feel a thing. “I’m listening.”
He opens his mouth to speak again, and then he smiles, and something happens to my body, something so unfamiliar I don’t know what to do with it.
Lust.
“Okay, let me try this again,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Hi. I’m Landry. I don’t normally do this, but you’re beautiful. I would really like a private dance from you.”
“I don’t—”
“Do private dances, I know, she told me,” he says, pointing over his shoulder at Quinlin. “I hoped you would make an exception for me, though. I...I can pay double,” he stutters, the smooth sexy demeanor now gone, and I furrow my brows.
“Now, why in the world would you do that?” I question him, my defenses on high alert.
How did he even get an invitation to come here? Someone pushes me from behind as I barrel into Landry’s chest. I collect myself, standing upright, and whip around, ready to give this jerk a piece of my mind when I recognize his face.
Oh crap. I didn’t know if Luca would come. I turn my face so he doesn’t see me, and look around the club, searching for Everleigh, relieved she's in a conversation with one of our girls. I turn back to Landry, grabbing his hand as we push through the crowd to the back rooms. I take my key out of my bra, unlocking my door as I push him inside, turning to the door and shutting it, pressing my palms to the wood.
“Shoot!” I whisper.
“Is everything okay?”
“My um...yes. It’s fine. Listen, I don’t do this. I have a strict policy in place and—”
I turn around, and he's inches from my face. I take a step backward, my back pressing against the door as Landry stays put, watching me.
“I’ve never stepped foot in a strip club before today,” he whispers, lifting his hand and holding it in the air, searching my eyes.
He’s asking permission to touch me, and it almost makes me want to cry. A strange man who doesn’t know me from a hole in the wall gave me a choice—a choice my own flesh and blood never gave to me.
Giacomo’s voice tries to infiltrate my brain, but I close my eyes, shutting him out. Maybe this man was put in my path today for a reason; to show me that I can still be desired. I’m still a woman despite my inability to do the one thing I was put on this earth to do—carry a child.
I nod without opening my eyes, and at Landry’s first touch on my cheek, I flinch. I don’t open my eyes because I don’t want to see the pity. He would be a fool not to recognize the unease of my actions.
“Open your eyes, Siren.”
I gulp down my fears, push my insecurities to the side as I slowly open my eyes and look at this strange man, this enigma standing before me.
“What do you want?” I whisper.
“You,” he answers without hesitation.
I lift my hand, hovering my palm over his cheek, and he nods, allowing me to press it against him. His beard is softer than I imagined it to be. The wiry strands are silky, and I curl my fingers, digging them deeper into his beard.
He closes his eyes, sighing as I play with his beard, bringing my other hand up to run my palm down the smooth locks.
"I don't do this...ever." He looks at me, confused as if to say, 'you're a stripper, how do you not do this?' “I don’t sleep with strange men, Landry.”
He opens his eyes, tilting his head to the side as he smiles at me. “Good thing I’m not strange then.”
I laugh, my belly tickling at the foreign sensation. Don’t get me wrong, I laugh all the time, I joke with the girls, but this isn’t a familiar laugh; this is a...giggle. I just giggled.
“Now I know why they call you Siren,” he whispers, moving his head next to my ear to place a soft kiss on the base of my neck.
I sigh, dropping my head back to the door and put my hand on his chest.
“Why?” I breathe.
“Because the sounds that come out of your mouth can lure me to any dark depths of the sea. I know the dangers, but I don’t care. Bring me to them.”
The unfamiliar pull in my lower belly awakens something inside me, someone inside me that has been dormant for close to a decade. The only time she comes out is on that stage, but when the music stops, so does she. It’s stopped, the song finished for quite some time, but the woman inside me isn’t going back to sleep. She’s awake. She’s very, very awake, and she wants the man standing in front of her to keep her there: alive and aroused.
“I believe I came for a dance,” he whispers.
I nod, pushing softly against his chest, reaching for a chair next to us. I guide him to it as I motion for him to stand next to it, as he watches my every movement.
Reaching for my stereo remote, I turn on “Beautiful” by Bazzi and Camila Cabello, feeling my legs start to quiver with the promise of being strained.
It’s a contradictory feeling that my body's salvation comes from being pushed to the limit and then past it. Craving the soreness I know I’ll feel tomorrow for throwing my body into a dance I only do once in a while, I give into its demands.
Dance, Magnolia. Dance your heart out.
The music starts as I lazily stride over to the chair, popping my hip out on every other count. When I get to the chair, I stomp my heel on the seat, leaning my head back as I wrap my arm around it, mussing my hair. Dropping my head forward quickly, I snap it back up, my blue hair flying to my back, my right hand gliding up my laced leg. I slide the chair forward with my heel. My legs spread as I spin the chair, kick my leg out, straddle it, and face Landry. I twist backward, my body spineless as I do a full spin and back to my sitting position.
My body is on fire, feeling the sexiest I have ever felt in my entire life as Landry stands there, his hands fisting at his sides, his eyes hungry, his pants tightening against his apparent desire. I stand, twirling the chair again as I sit in it, facing forward and lean back, slowly spreading my legs open. Landry’s eyes drop down to the apex of my thighs, and then his Adam's apple bobs. His eyes close, his nostrils flare as I slither my hands from my knees, closer and closer to my center. I shut my legs quickly, getting to my feet as I bend over, pressing my palms to the chair, popping my butt straight up, my body in a perfect ninety-degree angle.
I smile, watching a bead of sweat drip down his forehead, wanting to lick it off as I ride him, grind my body against his until he is begging me to let him touch me. I stand straight up, drawing out my movements as my hands roam up my hips and ribs to my neck and hair.
I finally have mercy on him, my steps in slow motion toward his tense body, and I run my hand down his chest. I watch his face as his jaw flexes, the baby blue eyes turning navy.
I circle him, dragging my hand across his chest, across his back, and to his front again, pulling on his tie to bring his tall stature down closer to me. My hand runs through the front of his thick hair as I drag it through the top all the way to the back of his head. Pulling our foreheads against each oth
er, I grind my hips forward against his. I pump for two counts against him, then take the third slow, glancing down at the place our bodies meet, his hips wanting to move but holding back.
My hand drifts down the back of his neck to the front of his shirt. I start to untie his tie as I press my thigh in between his legs. His hands are fisted at his sides, and I take one, delicately opening his palm and place it on my hip.
Our eyes lock as I free his neck from his tie, and I feel his fingers tighten against my hip. I push the urge to freeze up to the back of my mind, concentrating on my body's movements and the lyrics to the song.
I mess my hair with my hand, dragging my finger down the front of my face, pulling down my bottom lip as I skate my tongue out, wetting it. I yank his tie from around his neck, dropping my body down to the floor, my ass skimming the wood as I torturously come back up, popping my hips. I lasso his tie around his neck, grabbing hold of the other end as I pull on it, causing him to stumble forward into me. I catch him, pushing his body down into the chair, and lift my heel, pressing it against his thigh. His hands move up the back of my calf, and I pull my leg back, dropping to kneel in front of his body in the chair.
I grip my hands on his thighs, sliding them up to his hip as I throw my head back, circling it around and dropping to my back on the floor, gliding my hands across the slick surface. I scissor-kick my legs up, dropping one and then the other to each side of the chair, flipping to my belly on the floor. I drag my body up slowly, my butt leading as it collides with Landry’s crotch. I snap my head back, my hair landing on his shoulder as I pull my body to a stand, my butt in front of his face. He exhales, the warm air making me shiver, my nipples tightening against the lace of my bra.
I walk behind him, trailing my finger against the top of his shoulders, and throw my thigh over one shoulder, rubbing my hips into the back of his neck. I’ve only ever done dances similar to this in the main room, but never in the privacy of mine without another girl in here with me. His hand comes down on the thigh straddling his neck, and I quickly whip it away, making a full circle around his chair. Not yet. I can’t have him enter my world until I'm sure I even want him to.
I stand in front of him, pushing my heels into the floor on either side of him as I straddle his lap in the chair. I slowly shake my hips, moving further and further down until our bodies connect and his hands go to the small of my back. I jump, still not ready for him to be a willing participant but push it down. My arms wrap around his neck, shaking my hips to the side, feeling his desire grow in between us as I press our foreheads together, the lyrics commanding me to take control.
I sing in his ear as my body moves so slowly, so seductively, like an erotic lullaby. The shock that should consume my body at my intimate voice for a stranger doesn’t take hold as I lean back, tumbling into a back handspring off his lap, and then stand, kicking out as I slide back up and take two steps toward him.
I spin, dropping into his lap as my back molds against his chest. My hands grip his thighs as I slide up and down the front of his body, reaching behind me to grab the back of his head. I feel his lips hovering over my neck, over my ear, his hand in mid-air, wanting desperately to put them on my body. My breasts ache for him to give in, for him to touch me in all the places I want him to, tattooing my body.
I turn, pressing my body in between his, my hands grabbing hold of his thighs tightly as I hover my lips over his. I sing the rest of the lyrics, our lips a feather-like touch, and it takes all of my control not to just take exactly what I want.
I sit back on his lap, gripping his face between my biceps, my hands fisting in the back of his hair, and then he snaps the last part of my control as he whispers the rest of the lyrics against my lips.
“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel…”
My mouth drops open, our foreheads connect, and our matching blue eyes stay on each other as I smile, knowing that I am finally breaking free of the penitentiary that I’ve put myself in for the last seven years.
“I want you, Siren. You tell me if this is too much. I can stop whenever you need me to; I don’t want you to—”
I press my lips to his, stopping any chivalrous promise dripping from them. I don’t want it. I don’t want this to matter to me. I just want to act on a primal need that is shaking me to my core, and the only way to satisfy it is to feed it. I don’t want the feelings of it; I just want the physical gratification to prove to myself that I’m not broken. I can desire a man. I can please a man regardless if I can give him a child or not.
I break our kiss, leaving meek, obedient Magnolia at the door of my room, and stand, pulling Landry to his feet and push him toward the water bed in my room. Too many nights, I’ve cried myself to sleep in this bed after a night of dancing, feeling my hopelessness snake it’s way into my head once that music stopped. Tonight though, tonight I am taking Landry into my bed, and I am not buckling to the inadequacy that plagues me.
“Sit down,” I command, pushing him to his butt on the bed.
He does as I ask without delay, and I smile, reaching forward to start unbuttoning his shirt. I watch his eyes as they drop down to my hands, seeing each button break free of its restraints. It’s fitting, really, as his clothes fall to my bed, piece by piece as my own shackles drop there beside them.
I snap the garter clip open against my thigh, and the sound it makes causes my insides to flip.
"Lie back."
Landry’s blue eyes darken as I reach forward, putting my palm against his bare chest and make him lie back in the bed. He goes willingly, looking down at the base of the bed as I free my other clip, that too snapping against my skin.
We don’t speak, neither of us wanting to break this bizarre spell we’re both under. He leans up on his elbows to watch me as I slowly pull down the straps to my lingerie, freeing my breasts. The cool air against my nipples causes them to harden, that or the look on Landry’s face when they drop to admire them. I lift my leg, pressing my heel to his chest, causing him to lay back down, and he smirks, his hands wrapping around my ankle and pulling it toward his face. The movement causes me to stumble onto the bed, my legs spread as one heel remains on the floor, the other pressed to Landry’s mouth.
I watch through half-lidded lashes as he kisses one side of my ankle and then the other, slowly making his way up my leg, sitting up as his hand wraps around my standing thigh. I place a hand on his shoulder, steadying myself, and then my leg is lifted up over his shoulder, his head inches from my center, open wide from him in a standing split, at his mercy.
“You have one more second to stop me before I crash into the deadly rocks, Siren. One more second before I absolutely devour you, feast on every single inch of your impeccable body.”
I take a second, one second to think before I lift his chin up, making sure our eyes are locked before I utter the words both of us want to hear.
“No one is stopping, Landry. Not until both of us are writhing from so much pleasure we won’t even be able to walk ourselves out of this room.”
In a second, I’m on my back, Landry crawling between my legs as he spreads them wide, biting the elastic of my panties. He moves them to the side, and before I can register what’s happening, something warm and silky glides across my clit.
“Ohhhhh my Godddd,” I groan, dropping my head back to the mattress, arching my back so high, half my body is lifted off the bed.
The nerves in my clit are firing down my legs, my toes curling against the inside of my heels as I kick them off, the thumping of them against the wood floor meshing with my loud pants.
Pleasure.
Insane pleasure rips through my body as Landry continues to lick me, eat me, absolutely destroy me, and I fight the tears. My hand moves without permission to the back of his head, and I shamelessly rock myself against his mouth. I’ve never felt this animalistic need to grind myself against someone like this, an urgency to do whatever it costs to come. The all-consuming hunger grips my rational brain and stran
gles it, cutting off all circulation until the only thing that is left is an irresponsible fever that only Landry can cure.
“Yesssss,” I hiss, wrapping a leg around his neck, pushing his mouth further into my center.
The hesitancy is gone, the fear has evaporated, and the only thing left is desire. I desire a man, this man, a complete stranger. I should be panicking; I should be in control, but I’m not, and the feeling is poisonous. The only fear coursing through my veins is the panic of once not being enough. What if I need more from him past tonight? What if he plagues my dreams and hijacks my thoughts throughout the day? What if I always chase that high he has given me, only to never again find it for the rest of my life?
Something hard and stiff slides through my fold, and I look down, watching his finger slip inside me. Seeing it disappear into my body, his knuckle grazing my ass, makes my muscles constrict, my panic starts to rise.
His hand comes up, lacing with my own next to me on the mattress, and I rub my finger against his knuckles. Unlike Giacomo’s cut and rough ones, they're soft, and my body slowly starts to relax again.
He isn’t Giacomo.
That thought carries me to the edge of the cliff Landry has brought me to, and when he pushes another finger inside me, crooking it against my sensitive spot, I fall. I free-fall over it, willingly jumping without knowing if my parachute will deploy. I don't even care as I continue to drop—miles and miles I plunge, and finally, I land on a soft, blissful bed with a sigh, closing my eyes as the feeling washes over me, hitting every single spot inside my body.
The bed dips as Landry lays on his back, pulling my arm for me to sit up. His boxers are gone, and he lays there, gloriously naked like a sculpted masterpiece. My eyes drop to his stiff shaft, and the panic starts to settle in. I’ve only seen one in the flesh my whole life. Landry’s is longer and thicker, gorgeous and mouth-watering, but the thought of it hurting, being so long since I’ve had a man inside me, causes me to shiver.
“I want you to take back what has been taken from you, Siren.”
Delivered in Sin Page 4
