by Lexie Ray
“Need some help with that?”
I jumped when I realized that Jake had opened the bathroom door and was watching me open the bottle of lube.
I flushed before laughing at the situation. “You’re getting a behind the scenes look of the things we girls do to prepare ourselves for you.”
“Fascinating,” Jake said, moving closer and putting his hand on my hip. “Take me through the process.”
“Well, I come in here and get down to my skivvies,” I said, smiling. “Then I make sure I’m pretty. You’re up to speed so far.”
“You don’t have to look in a mirror to know you’re pretty,” Jake said, trailing his fingers up and down my bare side. “Then what?”
“Then this,” I said, waving the bottle of lube. “Gotta be prepared for anything.”
Jake raised an eyebrow before taking the bottle from me and squeezing a dollop onto his fingers.
“Prepared for anything,” he repeated. “I like that. That should be the motto of Mama’s nightclub.”
“I’ll suggest it to her,” I deadpanned before we both laughed.
We stopped laughing when Jake slipped his fingers below the sheer, green material of my thong, his fingers wet with lube. It was such an intimate, unexpected gesture that my breath caught in my throat, especially when he found my clitoris and rubbed it with the pad of his pointer finger. He looked at me the entire time he did it, maintaining eye contact. I blushed as I moaned a little bit, then moaned even louder as he teased the opening of my pussy.
His lube-slicked fingers entered me easily. I’d been wet since our flirtatious conversation downstairs at the bar. I didn’t even need the lube, I realized.
Jake backed me up against the bathroom countertop, pushing his pointer finger into my body, stroking me for a few beats before inserting his middle finger. I moaned, hooking my leg around his waist, drawing him close enough to kiss him.
Our teeth clashed in our haste to devour each other, our tongues warring for dominance. It was so good to finally do what I’d wanted to do for such a long time, whether I realized it consciously or not.
He combed his fingers through my hair as I grabbed the back of his neck, drawing him even closer. His other hand hadn’t stopped moving inside of me, and I hadn’t stopped moaning. It was too good, too wild, too raw.
“Do you remember what I told you downstairs?” he said, breaking the kiss and panting against my neck before dragging his tongue up to just below my ear.
“You told me lots of things downstairs,” I said, holding onto his enormous biceps for all that I was worth.
“I told you I was going to take that pretty thong off of you and worship that perfect ass,” he said, which was all the warning I got before he pulled his fingers out and flipped me around so I was facing the mirror, staring at my flushed cheeks and heavily lidded eyes.
“Oh, that,” I said innocently, grinning at his reflection. “I do remember you saying something to that effect.”
He met my eyes and smiled before dropping to his knees behind me. He worked his fingers beneath either side of my thong and inched it down my body, making sure the tiny scrap of fabric rubbed my skin all the way down to my ankles. The simple touch of the thong all the way down my legs was electric, making me even hornier.
Jake handled my ass roughly, jiggling my cheeks before slapping one of them experimentally. The sharp sting sent me forward, gasping, against the countertop. I was stunned at the spread of warmth the spank left in its wake, even more taken aback by my body’s reaction to it. That was hot—fucking hot. I wanted more.
I pushed my hips out, wiggling my butt right in Jake’s face. He laughed.
“I can tell you liked that without you having to say a single word,” he said, spanking me again. The light pain made my considerable pleasure even sweeter, especially when Jake leaned forward and started planting kisses on every inch of the spreading warmth. He slipped his still lubed up fingers between my cheeks, the slickness allowing him to glide up and down between them. The sensations were incredibly erotic, driving strange groans from my throat. It was even sexier to have to look at myself in the mirror, unable to see Jake’s face behind me, forced to confront myself and the actions that turned me on more than anyone in the past.
There came a point, I guessed, when Jake couldn’t wait a second longer. He stood up hurriedly and withdrew his hard cock from his pants. He grabbed me around my middle and entered my pussy from behind, driving himself in with such fury that I screamed. It was pure passion, unfettered mutual attraction, an ease and comfort of being together that made everything even more arousing.
He thrust in and out, kissing me across my shoulders, fondling my breasts through my bra. We locked eyes in the mirror and neither of us could look away. Each of our breaths was one. Every time I moaned, he gave an answering sound.
It could have been a million years or maybe just a handful of minutes. Time slowed and sped up simultaneously. We moved in a perfect rhythm, staring at each other in the mirror. When we came together, our cries echoed in the bathroom. We were so loud, so explosive that I would’ve been surprised if they didn’t hear us down on the nightclub floor, music playing or not.
We panted, my knees feeling weak in my afterglow, and Jake rested his forehead on my back. He was still inside of me, which I found I really liked.
“That was amazing,” he said finally, looking back up and locking eyes with my reflection.
I smiled at him. “Shame we didn’t make use of that perfectly good bed,” I said.
“I think we can still make use of that perfectly good bed,” Jake said, slipping out of my pussy and turning me around. I helped him undress, rubbing each and every one of his muscles as they were revealed, tracing the outline of an eagle tattooed over his heart.
“Who’s this for?” I teased before helping him out of his pants. I was pleased to find that he didn’t have chicken legs, like so many other built guys. Why ignore a solid half of your body if you were already at the gym for the other half to begin with? Jake’s legs were just as muscular as his arms and torso.
“That’s to remind myself to be free with my heart,” he said, grinning. “Or something. I change the explanation every time someone asks me what it means.”
“And is that often, Mr. Fraser?” I asked, raising my eyebrows mockingly. “I should hope that you would only take your shirt off for me.”
“From now on, only for you,” he grinned. He unfastened my bra so easily that I had to laugh. He’d obviously had a lot of practice with this sort of thing.
I jumped up, wrapping my legs around me so he could carry me. He adjusted me briefly and impaled me on his rapidly hardening cock. I groaned as it finished its transformation inside of me, stretching the walls of my pussy.
He carried me carefully, sheathed in my body, to the bed, lying down on his back and keeping me on top, still inside of me.
“I can’t believe you’re already hard again,” I said, rocking on top of him.
“It’s the easiest thing in the world as long as you have the right person in front of you,” he said, grinning up at me lazily and hefting my breasts, pushing them against my chest and stroking the sensitive, responsive skin over my nipples.
I rolled my hips, tossing my head and enjoying the feel of him inside me. I stopped suddenly, thinking of something.
“Um, Jake?” I squeaked. “How long do you think we’ve been at this?”
“I dunno,” he said, shrugging his powerful shoulders. “Are we on the clock, or what?”
“It’s usually as long as it takes,” I said, “but you are the night’s attraction.”
Jake laughed. “I set the system to play music until I got back,” he said. “And Mama told me to take as long as I needed to get you out of my system.”
I started moving again, relaxing. “She wants you to focus on your set,” I said. “To give people a good show.”
“I’m getting a good show right now,” he said, thrusting upward as I mov
ed. He struck a sweet, sweet chord inside of me, and I stopped worrying about everything.
We fucked over every surface of that room, in every position that suited us. The last orgasm I had, I came sobbing, stimulated beyond belief, fighting to hold onto what little sanity I still possessed.
After we finally parted, panting on the floor, Jake looked over at me.
“That was the best workout I’ve ever had,” he said, his face sweetly sincere.
I snorted. “I’m glad a gym full of sweaty men and a rack of weights can’t hold a candle to me,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
He swatted at me playfully. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said.
We showered comfortably together, soaping up each other’s backs like lifelong lovers. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been locked in the room together, but Mama raised her eyebrows at both of us when we traipsed down the stairs, hand in hand.
“Think I should pay her extra for the third and fourth orgasms?” Jake asked, grinning rakishly.
“I think you should get your fine ass back on stage and do what you were hired to do,” I said, giving him a peck on the lips before going back behind the bar.
“Oh my God,” Shimmy said, sidling up as Jake started his third set. “Everyone hates you right now.”
“Believe me, I would hate me, too, if I weren’t me,” I said, unable to tone down my happy grin one iota.
“You must give me details after we close,” Shimmy said, her hips swaying to Jake’s sultry beats. “It is a requirement, not a request.”
“I’ll tell it to everyone as a bedtime story,” I joked, grabbing a handful of beers and opening them before positioning them on a tray for her.
“You look like you’re in love,” Shimmy said accusatorially before marching the tray of booze across the floor.
I patted my cheeks, which hadn’t lost their flush. Maybe it was just hot in the club. I pulled my hair back again and knotted it at the nape of my neck, then fanned my hands in front of my face.
“Looks like you got burned by the fire,” Daisy observed, handing me a ticket.
“Burned so good,” I retorted good-naturedly, pouring a concoction of liquor and mixers in the shaker before shaking it like a maraca, dancing up and down the bar in the meantime.
“You’d better spill every single thing after close,” Daisy said.
I poured the concoction into two glasses and placed them on the tray for her.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I already promised Shimmy the same thing.”
I watched Daisy carry the tray carefully across the floor before gazing up at Jake. He was spinning, in the middle of blending two songs together before shifting to a third, but he looked up all the same, locking eyes with me.
I flushed and grinned, and he returned the look. He executed the shift masterfully, powering into a song that everyone in the club knew and loved, but I knew his mind wasn’t on his set. It was on what we’d just finished doing upstairs. It was all I could think about, too.
“You look happy.”
Pumpkin’s softly worded observation drew me back to the task at hand. I smiled at her sweetness and took her drink ticket.
“You know that game everyone played in school—seven minutes in heaven?” I asked as I set out five shot glasses on the bar.
“Yeah,” she said. “But I was always too shy to play.”
“I never played, either,” I said, thinking back on my tumultuous formative years and shaking my head. “But I just spent a solid two hours in heaven.”
Pumpkin giggled and covered her mouth cutely as I poured rum into the shot glasses, arranging them artfully on the tray before pushing it toward Pumpkin.
“I’m happy that you’re happy,” she said before turning around and shaking that round rump of hers back across the floor to her table.
I shook my head. Was my happiness so transparent? Why did Jake make me so happy in the first place?
His third set was his last. Jake usually played at least four, but we’d spent so much time upstairs that he had to cut it short. Mama came up on stage and took a microphone from Jake. Something about seeing them close together made my skin crawl a little bit, but I shook it off.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Mama said. It was customary for her to bid everyone farewell at the end of the night. It was certainly more personal than flicking on the lights and hollering last call.
“We’ve enjoyed your company, but it’s about that time,” she continued, smiling widely. “Tip your girls, tip your bartenders, and tip off your friends—Mama’s nightclub is the place to be.”
It was after her speech that someone made the lights a little brighter in the place, prompting the customers to start scurrying into the night.
I poured some last cocktails and shooters, then started cleaning up. There was a load of dishes to wash in the little washer behind the bar, as well as trays that needed cleaning. Another bartender started wiping down the surface of the bar with the rag, while the third went around outside to pull the barstools out so we could vacuum the carpet. Customers rarely sat at the bar, preferring to get the service—and flirtatious attention—of Mama’s girls on the floor. It happened sometimes, though, and we had a few tonight.
“Can I get a beer to go?”
Jake’s familiar voice made me turn from capping all of the open liquor bottles with paper cups. I smiled as I popped a beer from the case and opened it for him.
“Only if you promise to stay forever,” I said, batting my eyes at him.
“I wish I could,” he said, smiling sadly. “But I’ll be back next week for my regular set.”
I pouted prettily. “You won’t come to see me before then?” I was shocked to realize that I was legitimately upset about the fact.
Jake shrugged. “I wish I could,” he said. “But I’m playing all over town, booked solid.”
“Well, congratulations on that,” I said. “I know that’s your passion.”
“I’m passionate about you,” he said, his eyes kind.
“We could always do something after we finish working,” I said, wondering a little at the hope in my voice. I craved having him inside of me, but I realized that I wanted more of him. I wanted to actually spend time with him, go places, go out to eat. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to date Jake Fraser. I’d never wanted to date anyone ever, not even when I first moved to New York City. I’d marched my way through a whole platoon of lovers, rarely sleeping with the same one twice.
I actually wanted to tie myself down to Jake. It was an odd concept.
“We both get out awfully late,” he said, grinning.
“We live in the city that never sleeps,” I said, taking the empty beer bottle back from him and twirling it between my fingers before sending it crashing into the trash. “I’m sure we can find some kind of entertainment.”
“I know what kind of entertainment I want,” he said, his eyes hungry.
“I might make you pay for it again,” I warned. “Or Mama will.”
“I would gladly pay for it again,” he said. “I got more than my money’s worth today.”
I blushed. “I wouldn’t make you pay again,” I said. “I was just joking.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Jake said. He hefted a rolling suitcase and a shoulder bag—all he needed to transport his equipment to and from a venue. He reached into his wallet and withdrew a card.
“My number,” he said, tossing the rectangle to me.
I plucked it from the bar and rubbed my thumb over it.
“You want me to call you J-Fray next time?” I asked.
“You can call me whatever—and whenever—you want,” he said, winking at me as he walked out of the nightclub. I watched him go, eyeing the tight ass those jeans contained, a little disappointed that he didn’t look back before walking out the door.
“Look at this lovesick girl,” Shimmy clucked, shaking her head sadly as she leaned on the vacuum cleaner.
&n
bsp; “I’m not in love,” I spluttered. “He just fucked my brains out, is all.”
Shimmy shrieked with laughter before turning the machine on, collecting the crumbs from the night of celebration.
“I hope you’re not expecting too much.”
I looked over to see Cream standing there, a rag and spray bottle clutched in either hand.
I winced and bit my lip. “I’m sorry, baby,” I said. “Are you upset?” Cream had been one of the girls Jake had slept with—free of charge—when he first started doing his thing at Mama’s nightclub. The other two had since left, especially as Mama’s reign of terror grew worse.
“I’m not upset,” Cream said, lifting her shoulders with resignation. “He paid for you, after all. We always have to sleep with whoever wants to pay with us.”
Honesty was always the best policy, I hoped as I plunged forward.
“Are you sad that he didn’t pay for you?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I just wanted to hook up with him,” Cream said. “He’s freaking sexy, isn’t he?”
“Fucking sexy, I’d say,” I said, grinning, but Cream only gave me a small smile.
“Can I tell you something?” I asked, clasping my hands together. “I kind of wanted to sleep with him. I think I like him. Is that okay?”
Cream laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “Of course it’s okay,” she said. “He’s not mine. He’s not anybody’s. He might not even be yours, Blue, so I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you. I’m not upset. It’s just friendly advice.”
She left to start cleaning tables and I watched her, puzzled. It sounded like Cream had really liked Jake, but he hadn’t returned her affections after that first night. I found myself wondering if some of the things he said to me tonight were recycled, if the girls he’d had before had heard and swooned over the same words.
I tried not to let it bother me as we finished cleaning up the floor and as my tips came pouring in from the rest of the girls. It had been a good night, and I pocketed a hundred bucks before giving the rest to Mama for her “safe keeping.”
