by Baylin Crow
I groaned, regretting it before it even touched my tongue. “Fine.”
My throat burned and warmth bloomed in my stomach as I swallowed every drop. I cringed and pounded my chest, coughing and mentally cursing my friends.
CJ cackled and Caleb slow-clapped as he reached for my glass. "Want another?"
"Absolutely not." I scowled. It felt like the fumes were burning my nose hairs. "I need to get some water."
When I couldn’t spot our waiter, I pushed up from the chair, but CJ hopped to his feet. "Sit your ass down and enjoy the view. I'm on it."
“Thank you.” Settling back in the seat, I let my gaze dip over the railing, down to the main floor. My attention was drawn to a man dancing beneath a bright red light on stage. He was dressed in mock fireman bunker gear—well, most of the uniform. The jacket was missing, but the coverall bands held up the bottoms, and he still wore the helmet. The song he moved in rhythm to had sirens blaring in the background, and I had to admit that was clever.
As he tugged one band down his muscled arm, I averted my eyes and scanned the rest of the room. Among the crowd, I found dancers in the same shorts our waiter wore circulating the room. Others were already earning tips from air humping men, and a few women. I found the whole thing oddly fascinating, but I wasn’t interested in joining in the fun. Not even with the help of the liquor slowly loosening my limbs.
"Here," CJ said, grabbing my attention as he set a closed water bottle on the table. He dropped into his chair and leaned forward, craning his neck to scope the lower level. "Find anything interesting down there?"
"Not really," I replied honestly with a shrug.
CJ hummed. “We just have to find you the right guy. What about him?”
“Who?” My brow furrowed as I tried to follow where he was pointing.
“Red hair, brighter than yours. Tall. Pale, maybe? It’s hard to tell with the lighting.” CJ squinted.
I spotted the dancer and shook my head. “Pass.”
Caleb, who had been quietly drowning himself in liquor, joined in the search. “Oh, what about that guy, Arch? Look closer to the stage. Latin, I think. Dark hair. More muscles than the Hulk.”
I easily found him, and Caleb wasn’t exaggerating. The guy was massive. He’d crush me. I whipped my head back around and frowned at Caleb. “Hard pass.”
“So picky,” he muttered.
“Not everyone is willing to nail anything that moves like you, bro,” CJ scoffed, but Caleb only grinned.
Shaking my head, I decided I was done with the game. I scanned the room in one last guaranteed fruitless attempt to find anyone that sparked any interest. “You guys, this is pointless. You’re not going to find anyone—” My mouth snapped shut as my focus narrowed in on one of the dancers just as he stepped out onto the floor.
I hadn't seen him working the room before, because he hadn’t been. I would have noticed. He stood out as much as I did, but for a better reason.
My tongue felt thick and my pulse pounded as I tore my gaze away and ran straight into CJ’s curious gaze. Under his scrutiny, I dodged the unasked question and turned to Caleb who smirked. “You were saying?”
I swallowed around the lump that had lodged in my throat and croaked, "We can go now."
"So soon?" Caleb pressed his lips together as if stifling a grin. “Here I was discovering you had a thing for tattoos, Arch. No judgement. If I was gay, I’d definitely do him. Nice choice.”
How long had I been staring at the guy? Rarely flustered, my jerky nod matched the rest of my shaking body. "I just need to go to the bathroom first."
The twins bent their heads together, whispering—which meant absolutely nothing good—but I needed a quick escape from their probing stares to gather myself. I stood quickly, nearly tripping before I caught myself on my back of my chair. “Be right back.”
They nodded, and I left them behind as I aimlessly navigated the VIP in search of the bathroom. The curtains seemed to have inconveniently grown thicker or my vision hazy. I stumbled around, attempting to remain unnoticed by anyone and gaining a little of my composure back with each step. I finally found the men’s room down a darkened hall and locked myself in a stall.
What the hell was that? With two weeks remaining of my sophomore year in college, I was still a virgin. But even with zero experience, I knew my reaction to him wasn’t normal. It couldn’t have been or there would be a lot of panic-ridden people running around out there, and Caleb would constantly be on the cusp of full-blown seizures.
Puffing out a long, steadying breath, I mentally chided myself for the ridiculous response. But I was never instantly attracted to anyone, not like that. Sure, I noticed if someone looked nice or would be considered attractive. But no one ever stirred my blood, definitely not from a single glance. It hadn’t even been returned.
Rolling my neck on my shoulders, I decided to let the incident go. What did it matter anyway? I took care of business and then washed my hands before glancing at myself in the mirror. My reflection was clearly me with the same slim, five-nine frame. My dark auburn hair was still an unruly mess of loose curls. My sharp features with full lips hadn’t changed. But my pale cheeks with a dusting of freckles were abnormally flushed, and I didn't recognize the wild spark in my deep-set brown eyes.
I cupped my hands beneath the running faucet and then splashed cold water on my face. I repeated the move until the heat left my cheeks. Letting out a deep sigh, the last of the tension in my muscles unwound. I needed to get back before the twins came looking for me, so I dried off my hands and headed back the way I’d come.
My steps slowed as I neared our table. CJ had his hand fisted in front of his mouth, attempting and failing to hide a smile, as he watched me approach. My gaze slid to Caleb who lounged back in his seat, a mischievous spark in his eyes as he flashed me a megawatt grin.
My eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What did you do?"
They both shrugged in unison, and unease settled in my gut.
“Are you the birthday boy?” a voice as smooth as velvet asked from behind me.
I tensed and shot a glare at the twins, but could barely manage it because my heart was beating out of my chest. I didn’t need to look to know who stood behind me. They would pay, I promised myself.
With a hard swallow, I slowly turned around. Oh… Damn. My pulse spiked all over again, except this time I wasn't a hundred percent sure I wasn't going to pass out. I lifted my hand in an awkward wave. "Hi.”
The tattooed Adonis’s lips curled into a devilish smile. “Is that a yes?”
The word rolled off his tongue as a hiss that sent heat spiraling down my spine. I was breathing, right? Just in case, I took a deep inhale as I greedily scanned him from head to toe.
He was tall, right at six feet, maybe, and at least a few years older than me. Lean muscles appearing more defined because of the slick oil were carved beneath an olive complexion covered in colorless tattoos that stretched from his neck down to his exposed calves. His curly light brown hair was cut close to his scalp, and his face… A small sigh escaped my mouth as I drank in his features—straight nose, full lips, slightly cleft chin, and hazel eyes that held a spark of confidence and were surrounded by long, dark lashes. A necklace hung from his neck in two ropes and a leather bracelet wrapped around his wrist.
He was a walking work of art, and I’d never seen anything so intriguing.
The dancer waited patiently as I devoured him with my gaze. I locked onto his mouth and subconsciously licked my lips.
"Do I pass inspection?" An amused smile pulled at his lips.
My eyes jerked to his. “What?”
“You good, Arch?” CJ’s voice woven through the pounding music was a welcome, and slightly frustrating, sound. “You don’t have to do this if you really don’t want to.”
I turned my head, searching out CJ. "Do…what, exactly?"
“Arch?” The dancer’s voice drew my attention back, and I sucked in a harsh breath when his inked hands pres
sed firm against my chest. Wide-eyed, I held his stare when he flexed his fingers and a chill skated over my skin. “That’s your name?"
“Archer West, or Archer…I mean, Arch is fine. Or Archer. It doesn’t matter," I rambled. Embarrassed, I was honestly surprised I was able to choke out the words at all with the heat from his hands burning through the material of my shirt. My gaze dropped to where he touched me, noting each of his fingers were adorned with unique rings that caught the light.
He lifted one hand, hooked a knuckle under my chin and tilted my head back to look at him. I wheezed and he chuckled, a deep raspy sound that sent tingles racing through my body. “Archer West, are you nervous?”
I wanted to laugh, because nervous didn’t begin to cover the train wreck of emotions wreaking havoc on my nervous system. “Possibly. Maybe. A little…for what?”
“I’m Nix.” He took a step forward, drawing our bodies closer, and the scent of leather and mint reached my nose. Before I could properly revel in my new favorite smell, he dipped down, bringing his lips close to my ear. Breath tickling my sensitive skin, he whispered, "And a private room was booked for the birthday boy."
Mindlessly, I leaned into him, absorbing the tingling sensation. Fuck, that felt good. Wait—What? Oh... Oh, no.
Before I could unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth to speak the words out loud, he stepped back and laced his fingers through mine. My wide eyes shot to my traitorous friends. I wasn’t sure if I was seeking help or letting them know I was leaving. The decision was made as Nix’s hand tightened around mine. He tugged, urging me to follow him, and my feet obeyed.
Lost for what to do, I simply shrugged, and CJ and Caleb offered a pair of matching smug smiles.
“Where are we going?” I asked and Nix glanced over his shoulder.
“Somewhere more private where I can do dirty things to you, Arch.” He winked, and I died. That, or the air had been sucked out of the room. What did he mean by dirty?
I ripped my gaze away, only to find myself staring at the lean lines of his back. The muscles flexed with each step, and I had to force myself not to look lower at the tiny black pair of shorts that hugged his body so tight it left nothing to the imagination. Okay, I looked. But only a little.
Nix led me toward the back of the VIP where there were much smaller rooms completely sectioned off. Each was hidden behind thick black opaque curtains, and he paused in front of one. Hand wrapped around the outer fold, he turned to me and lifted a questioning brow.
After swallowing the reoccurring lump in my throat, I nodded.
His teeth sank into his bottom lift, and his eyes blazed a heated trail down to where my hard cock was likely visible through my jeans. After a pregnant pause, Nix’s gaze lifted to mine and narrowed. “I’m going to make you wish I was really fucking you.”
My knees wobbled. If he kept talking like that, he was probably right. Losing my virginity in a private room at a strip club wasn’t how I’d ever envisioned it, but—
The thought was cut off when he impatiently whipped the curtain back and pulled me inside.
"Take a seat." Nix gestured toward the leather couch and then messed with something on the wall.
Shaking off my nerves as much as I could, I sat on the couch and wiped my damp palms on my jeans. “What now?”
His lids lowered as he stared at me and hit a switch on the wall. A slow beat pumped from the speakers, and he drew the curtain closed, flooding the room with darkness except the black light that hung from above. Special paint glowed on his skin in the dark that I hadn’t been able to see before. It ran along his contours so I didn't miss a single move he made as he slowly approached me.
Nix dipped down, bringing his face close to mine as he placed my hands at my sides on the couch. He paused an inch away from my lips. "You sit still and let me make you feel good.”
“Oh,” I whispered, and his lips quirked to one side.
“First time, right?" he asked, voice silky as it coasted over my mouth. When I nodded, a satisfied glint flashed in his eyes as he caressed my knuckles. "Keep your hands here, okay?"
"They won't move," I promised as I watched, growing hungrier for him by the second. What was it about him I was so drawn to?
I quickly decided it didn't matter when he moved to brace himself by gripping the back of the couch on both sides of my head.
"Lean back," he purred and my cock throbbed at the husky tone. Nix surrounded me everywhere as he began an entire body roll. His intense gaze cemented with mine as he moved in lazy waves.
"You are so hot." I wasn't sure where the bold words came from, but he paused and groaned out a curse.
"Fuck it," he growled, and the oxygen disappeared from my lungs as swiftly as he climbed on top of me, straddling my thighs.
I gasped. "Oh, wow. Okay, so this is what we're doing."
"This okay with you?" He hesitated, and my head moved in jerky movements I hoped was a nod.
Nix hummed low in his throat as he began to grind against me, each roll of his body in time with the beat and highlighted with glowing streaks of paint. Any insecurity or nervousness that lingered faded completely under his control. All I could think, see, smell and feel was Nix. I was practically drowning in him.
Rocking against my cock, his weight pinned me down as I squirmed, seeking more of him. It wasn't enough and too much all at once.
"Oh, god." A moan slipped from my lips, and I fisted my hands, fighting the natural urge to grab him and beg him to give me relief from the hurricane of need ripping through my body.
He was hard, and my eyes rolled back at the slide of his shaft pressing, grinding, along mine. The friction from my jeans he created drove me to the brink of madness.
I wanted to touch him. I wanted to see how thick and long his dick was. Was he cut? Would he rip me in two if he slipped inside my ass? Pants raced in and out of my lungs, completely lost to Nix.
"Feel good?" His voice roughened as he brought his lips close to my neck. Each word sent a dizzying sensation over my sensitive skin, and I imagined him darting his tongue out to taste me.
"So...so good." An unrestrained moan dripped from my tongue with the next glide. The music sped up, and he followed the pounding rhythm.
There was a really high chance I'd come in my pants at this rate, and I didn't care. He groaned, and my head spun in euphoric circles. With zero experience of my own, I handed myself to him, completely at his mercy—he showed me none.
My breathing came in labored short bursts as he settled into a rhythm a lot more like sex than dancing. There was no other way to describe it. Nix was dry fucking me through his thin shorts, and I wished I could pop open the button to my jeans to feel him better. Maybe when it was over embarrassment would wash over me in spades, but Nix left no room for that, not when he held me enthralled under his spell.
He pressed his lips close to my ear. “You, Archer West, are dangerous. You already have me breaking my own damn rules.”
“What do you mean?” How I managed a coherent question, I had no idea. My balls were drawing tight, and I was fighting the orgasm racing through my body like an unstoppable freight train.
He grunted, as if he was holding back too. "I don't touch customers, Arch. And I'd fuck you right now if I could."
That did it. I gritted my teeth as I tried to warn him. "Nix, I might… I'm close…"
"Phoenix," he growled and the mood shifted, tension drawn tight to the point of snapping. “Say my name.”
“Phoenix,” I obeyed, chanting his name in breathless whispers.
"Fucking hell." As if invisible shackles had held him back, he broke free. The illusion of dancing was shattered when his hand dug into my hair, jerking my head back to stare him in the eyes. "You need to come in your fucking pants, Arch? Pretend it's my mouth sucking your hard cock?"
Maybe the comment should have mortified me, but I was too far gone. "Yes, please make me come."
His jaw clenched. "Then do it. Let me see you fall apar
t for me. Come for—"
The curtain was whipped back, a jarring clatter against the metal rod, and we both froze. My eyes slammed closed from the sudden flare of light, and reality threw a sudden punch through the lust fogging my brain.
Oh, no. What had I just done? My cheeks filled with a rush of heat that I knew would be bright red, and I chanced a peek through my slightly cracked eyelids.
"Shit, sorry. The song was over, and…" A guy with dark hair and smooth tan skin scratched the back of his neck and shot me an apologetic grin. "Well, this is fucking awkward, and not gonna lie, kinda hot."
"Damon." Phoenix flashed the newcomer a warning glare. "Get out."
But he'd been right, the room had grown quiet. I hadn't even noticed.
The dancer, Damon, shrugged. "I'm going, but Desi's looking for you. Your set starts in ten."
Phoenix sighed but didn't move away. "Tell her I'm on my way."
Damon nodded before he smirked and reclosed the curtain.
Once the heavy fabric fell back into place, Phoenix dropped his forehead to the back of the couch over my shoulder. "You okay?"
"Oh, me? Yeah, I'm good. Just, you know...I'm fine," I rambled.
When he leaned back, he kept his eyes on the wall behind me, avoiding my gaze. "That got out of hand. I'm sorry."
My brow furrowed. "What are you sorry for?"
"That wasn't how this was supposed to go. Some of the guys do this regularly, but I don't. I have rules I've never broken—until now." He climbed off my lap. "I just took it too far. I don’t touch the customers. Ever."
The memory of Phoenix telling me that as he turned me into a mindless slave for him, flashed through my mind. "Why did you then?"
I reached down to adjust myself, and Phoenix groaned as he followed the movement.
"Why?" he repeated, and then scrubbed a hand over his face, muttering, "I have no idea."
"Oh." I deflated but still felt bad because he was clearly struggling. "I'm sorry."
