by Elise Marion
He walked around the pole, glancing up to where it attached to the wall. “You think this thing is strong enough to bear my weight?”
She laughed, stepping up onto the platform. “I don’t know. They’re pretty strong, but expecting anything to hold your weight is asking too much.”
He gasped in mock astonishment. “Have you seen me? I am a work of art, woman.”
Her gaze swept over him from head to toe and she smirked. “Maybe, but you wouldn’t last one day as a pole dancer. It’s not just being hot and taking your clothes off, you know. You’ve gotta know how to work the crowd and milk them for every penny. You also have to be strong and flexible. The tricks are no joke.”
He rolled his eyes. “Please. Stand back and watch the master.”
Her lips quivered as she obeyed, taking several steps back from the pole and folding her arms over her chest. “Okay, Mr. Magic Mike. Let’s see what you got.”
Reaching up and gripping the pole like he’d seen her do countless times, he wrapped one leg around it. He gave his head an exaggerated toss and glanced at her over his shoulder.
“You like that, girl?”
She giggled. “Oh, yeah, baby. Take it off! Whoo!”
“I’m just gettin’ started.”
Holding on with one hand, he kept his leg around the pole and performed a little turn, swinging in a circle. The pole creaked and groaned in protest, but didn’t bend, much to his surprise.
“Now we’re talkin’!” Addison yelled from the other side of the stage.
Reaching into her pocket, she produced a few singles. She pulled one loose from the small stack and threw it at him.
He paused, one eyebrow raised. “That’s all I get?”
She held one of the bills up with both hands and gave it a snap. “I’m hard to please. You have to do better than that.”
He let go of the pole and turned to face her, both eyebrows raised this time. “Oh, yeah? Okay, you asked for it.”
Without thinking, he reached up and grasped the collar of his shirt. With a tug, he ripped it down the middle.
“Yes! More! More!” Addison laughed, throwing another bill at him.
Tossing the two torn sides of his shirt aside, he turned around and stuck his butt out, arching his back and giving it a wiggle.
“Oh, yeah, this has to be worth at least five,” he said.
“Two,” she countered, letting him have another two bills.
“Just two? What’s a guy gotta do for a fiver around here?”
“Impress me!”
The pole had been holding his weight so far, so Micah decided to risk it. Grasping it with both hands again, he jumped onto it, clenching it between his thighs. Addison cheered and clapped as he went into a turn, dipping backward as he’d seen her do countless times.
Obviously, there was some art to it she’d perfected and he had no clue about, because one second he was on the pole and the next, he found himself on his back on the floor with the wind knocked out of him.
He groaned and the room spun above him.
“Oh my God, Micah! Are you okay?”
He brought himself up onto his elbows as she ran across the stage to him, dropping to her knees at his side.
Giving her a grin, he let her help him sit up all the way. “I’m fine. The only thing hurt is my pride. You were right, cher. I barely lasted five minutes as a pole dancer.”
She smiled. “You weren’t half bad. I think you earned that fiver. Remind me later that I owe you.”
He chuckled. “Compensation for my injuries. What a generous customer. Mind givin’ me a hand up?”
She stood, extending her hand to him. He took it, grunting as she hefted him to his feet. He swayed against her, still a bit off balance from his fall. She grabbed his waist to steady him, her touch on his bare skin burning like a hot iron. He drew a sharp breath, his own hands coming up on instinct. He grabbed her upper arms tight, pushing her back slightly. His jaw tightened and his every muscle followed suit, coiled and ready to spring. His nostrils flared and took in her scent, overloading his senses along with the feel of her in his hands.
Stiffening in his hold, she looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
He released her, backing away. When her gaze lowered to his bare torso, he became all-too aware of his state of half-nakedness.
He swallowed past the lump in his throat and found his voice. “Sorry? For what?”
She lowered her eyes and beneath her tank top, her chest heaved as she took a deep breath and released it on a shaky exhale.
“I … I don’t know.”
For some reason, annoyance ripped through him and he clenched his fist at his sides. “You don’t? Hell, neither do I, cher. Sorry for what? Touchin’ me? Kissin’ me and liking it? You got nothin’ to be sorry for, and neither do I.”
She backed away from him, but he pursued, unable to stop himself now. Too damn late for that. He couldn’t fight himself anymore, no more than he could fight her magnetic pull.
“Tell me to stop, Addison,” he murmured, pausing just in front of her when she halted, coming up against one of the other poles. “Tell me you don’t want this, and we’ll never talk about it again.”
“Micah, please,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry but—”
“Damn it, cher! Stop apologizin’! Tell me you want me, you need me. Hell, tell me you hate me, for all I care. Or tell me to stop. Somethin’! Somethin’ other than ‘I’m sorry’.”
She closed her eyes, her breath racing in and out of her lungs as he edged closer. He had her trapped now, not just physically, either. He had grown tired of running, of trying to deny the truth.
“I don’t hate you,” she whispered. “This would be so much easier if I did. Why can’t I hate you?”
He reached up and cupped her face, running his thumb along the line of her jaw. She shivered, leaning into his touch.
“I been askin’ myself the same thing for weeks now,” he murmured. “I’m tired of tryna figure it out. I’m tired of fightin’, cher. There’s nothing stoppin’ me this time, except you. If you tell me no, I won’t ever touch you again. But if you can’t do that, then I’m not going to stop. I’m going to kiss you, Addison Monroe. I’m going to touch you. I’m going to take your clothes off and do things to you that I been day-dreamin’ about for far too long. Do you understand?”
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Her breath raced swiftly against his arm as he moved his hand back to thread his fingers through her hair. He stepped closer, molding his body against hers and pressing her against the pole.
He lowered his head until his lips brushed her ear. “I asked you a question, cher.”
She whimpered, arching her back and pressing her breasts against his chest. As far as his penis was concerned, that meant yes, but his mind wouldn’t be content with that. He wanted an answer, so that later, neither of them could claim he’d taken advantage.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He grinned. “Yes, you understand, or yes, you want me to take off your clothes and do things to you—”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” she muttered, reaching up to grasp his head in her hands. Twining her fingers through his curls, she jerked him roughly down toward her and met his lips with hers.
Addison’s head spun as Micah pressed her back against the pole and consumed her. It should have been uncomfortable, having the hard metal digging between her shoulder blades and jamming against her spine, but just then, she felt grateful for it. Without it, she doubted she’d be able to stand. If she’d thought being kissed by him had felt like being in the middle of a raging storm before, she hadn’t been prepared for this. It seemed that with one kiss, he unleashed every ounce of his pent-up desire onto her. It felt like dying, just like it felt like coming alive. Like falling, but also kind of like flying.
His hands gripped her waist, slipping beneath her tank top and skimming her ribs, while his mouth moved hungrily over hers an
d his tongue probed. Every overwhelming inch of him had gone hard, humming with power and heat just beneath the surface of his skin. She shuddered when she touched him, skimming her hands over his biceps and up to his bare shoulders—having all that strength at her fingertips felt empowering instead of intimidating. Maybe it was because she knew she’d been responsible for his loss of control.
She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back as he lowered his toward her throat. His lips and tongue traced a steady path downward, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He paused at the neckline of her shirt, then pulled away just long enough to yank it over her head. He paused, his tongue creeping out to wet his lips as his gaze locked onto her breasts and the sheer black bra she wore. He reached out and flicked at the front clasp, snatching the cups aside and tearing the straps from her shoulders. He bent his knees to be more level with her and continued on his downward path over her body. She gasped when his tongue skimmed one breast, stroking hotly toward her nipple. Her hands came up in reaction, gripping his head. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she held on tight as he latched on to first one, then the other, suckling with deep pulls that sent lightning strikes down into her belly.
He turned her into a panting, groaning, mindless animal unable to think or feel anything beyond the sensations he created with his teasing mouth and wandering hands. She clawed at him, desperate to feel every inch of his hot skin and the bulging muscles beneath—to master him in the same way he did her. His breath raced against her navel as he knelt. He circled it once with his tongue, catching the charm dangling from her navel ring, then kissed the skin just beneath it. Pausing at the button of her shorts, he gazed up at her expectantly, hands gripping her hips.
Leaning back against the pole, she thrust her hips forward, reaching down to flick the fastening open. His lips curved into a lopsided grin and, leaning forward, he planted his face between her hips and caught the zipper of her jeans between his teeth. The sound of him sliding it down echoed through the empty room, followed by her strangled moan when he kissed the sensitive skin just above her sex through her panties. He snatched her shorts down, and she’d barely kicked them aside when he’d slid his fingers between the waistband of her panties and her skin and slipped them down, as well. Grasping one knee, he bent it and hooked it over his shoulder.
Then, in typical Micah fashion, he dove in headfirst. She cried out at the very first stroke of his tongue slipping between her lower lips and gliding over the wet inner flesh. There was no gentle exploration to ease her in, no taking it slow. She reached up with one hand, gripping the pole for dear life, and fought to remain standing while he devoured her.
His hands gripped her inner thighs, his thumbs spreading her open to his hungry mouth. She shivered as waves of pleasure washed over her, stealing away all reason or rationale. She knew it was risky, being with him out in the open where anyone could walk in and see them. But that thought only heightened the pleasure.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew guilt would follow. But it became hard to dwell on any of that with Micah’s skilled tongue causing her to melt in his hands. Closing her eyes and giving herself over to the moment, she used her leg to bring him closer with a rough jerk.
He chuckled, his breath tickling her sensitive flesh, but he obeyed her silent command, quickening the strokes of his tongue and increasing the pressure of his lips.
“Yes,” she groaned, recognizing the beginnings of a climax.
She arched her back and moved her hips in time with his strokes, determined to reach the peak of pleasure and hurtle off the edge. She felt like a tightly coiled spring, and wanted this release more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
Seeming to sense her urgent state, Micah clamped his lips around her swollen clitoris at the same time he sank one finger into her slick entrance. Her knees weakened as the flutters deep within her core became pounding waves, washing over her in an unending tide. He pressed her closer to the pole, propping her up, and refused to back down. The more intense the waves, the harder he stroked her insides, the most insistently he lapped at her, until she screamed and shattered, reaching the inevitable end.
When he pulled away, she gripped his tangled curls and tugged, pulling him to his feet. He hardly needed any urging, but she brought him down to her, offering her lips. He took them, his hands still busy, skimming her curves, then dipping between her legs again.
“God a’mighty, cher. If you were any wetter, I’d have drowned,” he murmured against her lips.
She reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, then snatched down his zipper. She held back a gasp when his sex fell free, as long and thick as the rest of him. She bit her lower lip.
“It would have been your own fault,” she replied, trying to ease some of her anxiety.
He followed her gaze down to his sex, then glanced back up into her eyes. He grinned.
“Well, if we’re goin’ down, we might as well make it count.”
Micah took her hand and guided it toward his open jeans. Wrapping her fingers around him, he rested his head against her shoulder. She followed his lead, stroking along the shaft and giving it a gentle squeeze. He groaned, trembling against her as she repeated the motion. He thrust into her palm, holding her tight while she teased and tested him. Lifting his head, he kissed her, skimming his tongue over her lower lip then invading her mouth. She met it with her own and they dueled with the same rhythm with which she stroked him. Lowering her head, she kissed his neck just beneath his jaw, then moved lower, dipping her tongue into the hollow between his neck and collarbone.
One hand came up to the back of her head, his fingers gripping her hair tight as she traced the same path over his body that he had over hers. She explored the broad expanse of his chest, raking her fingers through the light smattering of blond curls, then lower, tracing the trail running between the hard bulges of his abs. Her tongue laved all six muscles, and her lips caressed one deeply defined oblique.
His lips parted and his breath raced in and out between them as she palmed his sex and lowered it toward her mouth. His gut clenched and he seemed to hold his breath as she placed a kiss against the swollen head. The breath came out on a moan as she kissed him again, this time opening her mouth and caressing him with her tongue. It was his turn to reach out and hold the pole for support as she enveloped him, subjecting him to the same torture he had inflicted upon her. The metal bent, groaning against the strength of his grip, dented by the five perfect imprints of his fingers.
“Damn it!” he murmured, his fist tightening around her hair as he guided her in the pace he wanted. “You keep that up, I’m liable to tear this thing in half.”
Hooking her fingers through his belt loops, she held on, increasing her pace and taking him in deeper, making his knees buckle and a string of muddled French and English curses to fall from his lips. Yanking her back, he tore himself from her mouth, panting and shuddering as he brought her to her feet.
“You are a devil woman,” he muttered, reaching into his back pocket. “But if this is Hell, I don’t ever wanna leave.”
He flicked his wallet open and retrieved a condom. Dropping it on top of her discarded clothes, he then tore the package open with his teeth.
She leaned back against the pole, reaching up to grasp it in both hands. Lifting one leg, she wrapped it around him and used it to pull him closer. He groaned when the head of his sex brushed up against her core.
“It’s not too late to stop,” she said, even though she knew they had both hurtled past the point of no return.
His gaze never wavered from hers as he sheathed himself with the latex.
“Are you crazy?” he murmured, lowering his head toward hers. Their lips brushed. “Some of the best things I ever did were things I shouldn’t have.”
“Then you really shouldn’t make love to me right now, Micah,” she teased.
He laughed, reaching out to grasp her waist. Lifting her, he pressed himself to her entrance. She wrapped her
legs around his waist.
“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty to me, cher,” he said.
Taking her hips in his large hands, he guided her onto his straining length. She held her breath, fingers tightening around the pole at her back as he inched into her, gently nudging his way deeper and deeper. She felt stretched to her limits by his size, filled in a way she’d never been filled before. She crossed her ankles at his back and released her breath on a sigh, sinking against him as he came fully into her, his pelvis meeting hers.
He buried his face in her neck, holding on tight as he guided her up and then back down the length of his cock. They moaned in unison, his low, husky voice in contrast to her high, breathy tone. The power of his thrusts built with each one, vibrating through her and touching the far reaches of her body, until she could feel him in her belly, in her chest, thrumming through her bloodstream in tandem with her pulse. His lips caught hold of her earlobe and he nipped at it with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue.
She held on to the pole, using it as an anchor as she tightened her legs around his waist and moved her hips in unison with his.
“Ah, cher,” he murmured. “I’m such a damn fool. Now I know what it is to be inside you, I don’t ever want to come out.”
Her response came through a gasp as he quickened their pace, pulling her against him with greater force. His fingers dug into her flesh, holding her tight as he urged her closer and closer to another climax.
“Micah!” she cried, releasing the pole and holding onto him for dear life as the pressure in her core built and swelled, hinting at the explosive ending to come.
“Addison,” he replied, his voice strained and hoarse. His entire body tensed, his movements becoming jerky and less precise.
They clung to each other as release came, sweeping over her first, then him. She fell limp against him as his legs buckled, arms tight around her. He sank to his knees, keeping her firmly on his lap, his sex still nestled deep inside her. He rested his head against her shoulder, trailing a row of kisses along her skin.
