SIX: A Men of the Strip Anthology

by Marie Skye

  Fishing the foil packet out between two fingers, I passed it to her as I popped the button on my jeans and yanked down the zipper, pulling myself free to her greedy stare. Green eyes went wide, blazing wildly with fiery lust. A cocky smirk played on my lips as I pumped myself slowly, her jaw dropping a little more with every passing moment until she was fumbling to roll the latex on me.

  "Take these off for me," I demanded, slipping a finger under her panties.

  But she shook her head, shutting her eyes in some blissful state as she pulled the thin material to the side, revealing the prettiest pussy I'd seen in my life. Glistening with her arousal, I had to hold myself back from tossing her onto the couch and burying my face between her legs.

  "Don't be a tease," I growled, swiping the head of my cock through her lips. "Take 'em off."

  "But what if someone comes in here?"

  Fisting her hair in my hand, I yanked her close and pressed my lips to her ear. "The door is locked, Vida. No one is going to come in here. Stop overthinking it and just take my dick already. I promise I'm gonna fuck you so good, you won't regret it."

  She glanced between us, her lip caught between her teeth, and then she was easing onto my length with exquisite slowness. I groaned hungrily, relishing the feel of her warmth enveloping me; how tight she was, how her head lolled back with every inch she took, how she moaned. Even with the condom rolled in place, she felt fucking amazing, my hands gripping her hips to seat her on me in entirety. She gasped as I filled her to the hilt, sighing something intelligible over the sounds of “Unforgettable.”

  But what could be heard loud and clear was the abrupt banging on the door, stilling her above me.

  “Yo, Jag, you’ve been in there forever, bro! Get your ass moving before Betty catches on,” said Dare’s exasperated voice.

  Vida gave me a weary, frustrated look, one I quickly destroyed with a desperate kiss…because while our time in this room had been exhausted beyond belief, this thing between us was far from fucking over…

  6

  I’m in the middle of a dance when a small hand wraps around my arm and pulls me off my client. At first, I assume its another impatient woman hoping to snag my attention but then I realize it’s Vida, a determined look etched on her face. Even after what took place last weekend, I’m shocked as hell to see her. She smiles knowingly and then we’re off…

  “Where are we going?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer and truthfully I already know given the fact she’s hauling me toward VIP.

  Sure enough, as we near the opening of the corridor, the bouncer steps aside and allows us through, which obviously means the room is unoccupied. Pushing through the door, she whips me inside, her chest rising and falling almost wildly as she secures the lock in place.

  “Are you crazy? I was with a client,” I say, somewhat exasperated, but the second she pushes down the straps of her dress, I’m left speechless, gulping through an intense rush of desire.

  “Strip, Jag,” she orders, advancing toward me with confident steps, her hips swaying side to side, a trail of clothes following in her wake.

  In my surprised state, I manage to whip off only my shirt before she shoves me onto the couch and straddles my lap. I take a moment to drink her in and when my gaze slithers up to her mischievous stare, her mouth crashes into mine forcefully. Both hands threaded in her hair, I kiss her with equal ferocity, our tongues lashing against one another, teeth nipping in between too.

  “What are you doing to me?” My question is barely audible above the music.

  “Finishing what I started,” she says, reaching between us to pop the button on my jeans…

  Three weeks.

  Almost three weeks had passed since that night in VIP and I hadn’t seen Vida since. I was losing my goddamn mind, even with the frequent texts we exchanged back and forth on a daily basis. But I’d take that over nothing at all. Besides it wasn’t her fault. She’d been dealing with a contrite ex-husband who wouldn’t accept he was too late.

  Yeah, you read that right. An ex-husband.

  Turns out I wasn’t the only one with baggage…

  While I suffered from baby mama drama, Vida had an ex-husband who apparently was only now seeing the error of his ways, two years after their divorce had been finalized.

  “He’s just lonely in that palace,” is what she’d said to me, a palace that felt more like a prison than a home while they were together. That alone was one of the reasons why she’d been single since, focusing solely on the job he’d prevented her from having for so long. Although he’d allowed her to finish her education, when it came time to put her hard-earned degree to use, the man wanted a trophy wife. Vida dealt with it to keep him happy, spending hours upon hours in a luxurious mansion with nothing to do other than look pretty when he returned home from work.

  But after some time, and with the help of her friends, she realized she wasn’t happy.

  That she didn’t love him anymore.

  And she was quick to act on it, hitting him with the divorce papers early one morning before he left for work.

  Dude was persistent in his efforts to win Vida back though, and I wasn’t having that shit. His loss was my motherfucking gain. No take backs.

  Which brings us to now…

  That was the text I sent Vida as I slipped out of the Lexus and made my way to the front doors of Palo Verde High School. She had no idea I was here, and while I didn’t how she’d feel about that, I didn’t really fucking care. I needed to see her. Not only was this my way of reminding her that she was better off without her ex, but it was also payback for our last night together. I snickered softly at the reply that came through as I wandered the halls.

  Like you need to prepare yourself…

  Less than ten seconds later, I was storming through Vida’s door, shooting her onto her feet in surprise.

  “Jag, what are you doing here?” she asked as I locked the door and grabbed a hold of the cord tilter keeping the blinds open. “Who let you—“

  “Do these close?” I interjected.

  “What?”

  “Do. These. Close?”

  “Yeah, I usually close them for meetings and conferences.”

  Zip.

  With a flick of my wrist, I shielded out the world, granting me the privacy we needed to make my impromptu plan a reality. Vida’s eyes bulged from their sockets when she realized what my intentions were.

  “Jag, we can’t d-do this here,” she stammered, backing into her desk as I inched toward her with determined strides.

  “Like hell we can’t. It’s after hours, the halls are empty. I just locked the door.”

  “B-but, my boss is more than likely still in her office.”

  “Keyword, baby, her office. Panties, off. Now,” I growled, caging her in with nowhere to go but onto the smooth chestnut surface behind her.

  My lips fell to her neck, stamping hungered kisses along the column in tandem with my fingers bunching the soft material of her pencil skirt. She mewled in my grasp and clenched the front of my tee, shaking her head in another weak attempt to fend me off.

  “It's happening, Vida,” I chuckled against her skin, sinking my teeth into the curve that pulsed wildly beneath my caress. “You barged in on me the other night, so now, I'm returning you the favor.”

  “I dragged you into VIP. That's what that room is there for.”

  “Wrong. That is my office, and I, too, am not supposed to be wetting my dick while I'm in there. If anything, they’re gonna expect me to walk out with a raging hard-on.”

  Nipping at her ear, I pressed myself further against her front, urging her onto the desk, her legs parting instinctively to allow me in.

  “Why are these still on,” I murmured, snaking one hand into her hair and the other to the heat between her legs. “Take. Them. Off.”

  “We c-can’t do this here.”

  “Oh, but we can, and we are. You may think you finished what you started but really all you’ve done is leave me wi
th this insatiable need…for you.”

  “You’re not the only one,” she whispered.

  “Then why haven’t you come to see me?”

  “Because I haven’t had a plausible reason.”

  “So now I’m not a plausible reason,” I joked and she laughed softly, regarding me beneath her lashes.

  “When I say plausible reason, I mean birthday party or a bachelorette night.”

  “Oh, please,” an amused scoff resounded in my throat, “Because you had an event at SIX three weeks in a row, right?”

  Vida lifted a finger and dragged it under my chin. “I did, actually. Two bachelorette’s and a birthday.”

  “Liar.”

  “I swear,” she insisted, “but I can’t deny the fact I suggested SIX for the last two.”

  There went another satisfied growl, my hands caged around her ass, pulling her closer to me. “Naughty little vixen.”

  “When it comes to you, apparently so.”

  Just like our first time in VIP, the expression I saw on her face was one-hundred percent serious. When it comes to you, apparently so… What did that mean? Was the inexplicable charge that seemed to surge only between us as consuming for her as it was for me?

  “Show me how naughty, Vida…” I urged her, pecking her lips softly.

  “Not here, Jag, please. If we get caught it won’t be a slap on the wrist and a new asshole. I’ll get fired.”

  ‘Fine, I’ll go.” I sighed because I knew how hard she’d worked to get here. “Only on one condition though.”

  Tightening her legs around my waist, she pressed herself against me as flush as possible, smirking when I sought her out for another kiss. “I don’t want you to go, I’m just saying I can’t let you fuck me into oblivion here. But go on—what’s your condition?”

  “I’m off this weekend. Let me spend more than fifteen minutes with you. We can do whatever you want; coffee, dinner, a movie. Anything.”

  “I’d actually really like that.” She smiled. “How about Friday night? Dinner? Maybe a movie after?”

  Yes…

  “Whatever you want,” I murmured, grinning against her mouth as I kissed the ever-loving shit out of her for making me happier than I’d been in a really, really long time…

  7

  Sighing, I tossed my phone onto the coffee table and flung myself back into the couch, staring at the same ceiling I’d been staring at all fucking day since receiving her text earlier on in the afternoon. Did I understand she had shit to do? Absolutely. Didn’t mean it sucked any less, especially when I’d been on a perpetual high since leaving her office Wednesday afternoon.

  But I guess everything happens for a reason because about an hour after hearing from Vida, Calla called to ask if Mila could spend the night. No, you’re not seeing things and you’re not the only who’s surprised either, trust me. I had to ask her a good three times to confirm. After countless months of shooting me down on the topic, she was finally going to let Mila sleepover. I had it in my right mind to ask why the sudden change of heart, but honestly, I didn’t want to risk putting her in one of her psychotic moods where she might call it off. Though, since taking Betty’s advice, Calla had been a lot easier to deal with, so maybe those mood swings were far behind us now.

  “Daddy, I’m done!” Mila called out suddenly from the bathroom.

  Scrubbing a hand down my face, I rose onto my feet and padded through the apartment, stopping beneath the threshold.

  “Scrubbed good, baby girl?” I asked her, crossing my arms.

  “Yep. I’m super sparkly clean.” She smiled exaggeratedly.

  “Well, c’mon, lets dry you up then. Your mommy packed you different jammies. Which ones do you wanna wear?”

  “Hmmm,” she mused with a thoughtful expression while I patted her dry. “Did she put the PAW Patrol ones in there?”

  “I believe so—those the ones you want?”

  “This pup’s gotta flyyy,” she exclaimed, quoting one of the characters with a squeaky little bark in tow, her head bobbing briskly in agreement.

  I couldn’t help but smile. This little girl had the power to light up my whole world. Beaming in amusement, I carried Mila to her room and pulled out the pajamas she’d requested from her—yep, you guessed it—PAW Patrol back pack. She dressed much quicker than I expected, then sunk down the floor, crossing her legs beneath her so I could untangle her hair. It’d gotten so long, the dirty-blondish tips sitting right at her waistline. Took me double the time the comb it all out.

  “Can you read me a bedtime story, Daddy? Pleaseee?” she asked hopefully as I tucked her into bed.

  “Of course, baby. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because Mommy never does, even when I ask her nicely.”

  My lips thinned drastically. It literally took everything in me not to show my daughter how angry that little sliver of information made me.

  “Well, I’ll read you however many you want, okay,” I replied and she flashed me this cheesy grin that looked so much like my own before running to the bookshelf in the corner.

  We didn’t get past one story though. Half way through “Love You Forever,” Mila laid passed out beside me, her lips quirked in this adorable pout, arms curled around her stuffed unicorn. Smoothing the hair off her face, I kissed her warm little cheek and tucked the covers around her, rising off the bed as quietly as possible.

  A content sigh left me as I closed the door and wandered down the hallway to the kitchen, pulling a cold Stella from the fridge. As busy as my life could be, especially on the weekends I worked, I could get used to this. I hoped like hell Calla would allow Mila to spend the night more often and wondered how a conversation might go if I decided to bring it up. To ask or not to ask…that is the question.

  Mulling it over it my head, I took a few welcome sips of my beer and plopped onto the couch, resting my feet on the coffee table as I flipped on the TV and scanned the guide for something to watch. Impractical Jokers seemed like a good way to go, until two soft knocks rapped on my door.

  Who the hell? Flying from my seat in a rush, I shuffled to the front door and squinted through the peephole to the other side. My eyes almost bugged out completely. To say I was surprised at what, or should I say whom, stood in the brightly lit corridor wasn't even putting it lightly.

  "Hey," Vida said softly, green eyes peeking up at me beneath wet lashes when I flung open the door.

  She was drenched, from head to toe, her clothes clinging to the curves of her body. I had to choke back a laugh ‘cause she just looked so fucking...cute. "Do you enjoy taking walks in the rain often?" I joked, leaning toward her through the jamb.

  “Are you kidding me? I hate the rain. Turns this,” she pointed to her hair, “into a mane."

  "Like that would make you any less beautiful."

  Vida rolled her eyes. “Can you not do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “That sweet talking shit.”

  “I'm not sweet talking you.” I smirked.

  “Yes, you were.”

  “No, I wasn't.”

  “You were,” she snapped, her growing frustration apparent and utterly captivating.

  Leaning all the more closer, I cocked my head to one side and grinned. “I wasn't.”

  “Jagger!” She whined, shoving my shoulder. “Are you gonna let me in or not?”

  It was right about then I really noticed she was soaking wet, at my doorstep, droplets of water running down her neck, her chest, everywhere...

  I may have gulped as a result, running a hand through my hair to avoid yanking her into my apartment and thrusting her into the wall.

  “I’ll let you in…if you tell me why you’re here.”

  Vida shrugged noncommittally, offering me a lopsided grin. “I made it home after those dreadful meetings, poured myself a glass of wine, and before I knew it, I was getting back in the car to come see you despite the rain.”

  “Yeah?” I asked, half-surprised, half-elated.

&nbs
p; “Yeah.”

  At her reply, I stepped aside to let her in, only to catch her at the waist and clasp her chin, brushing my lips softly against hers. “I like that answer.”

  “You should, it’s the truth.”

  “Which is exactly why I like it.” —kiss— “Let’s get you dry, shall we?”

  “I thought you liked me wet though,” she whispered, in this seemingly innocent manner.

  Was she trying to kill me?

  Pressing her into the wall, I shut the door with my foot and pulled her blouse over her head, dropping the sodden garment on the floor beside out feet. She just stood there in this white lace bra, peeking up at me angelically. If I didn’t know any better I’d actually think she was an angel of sorts.

  But we both know she was far from it.

  Dipping my head low, I lashed my tongue out between her tits and lapped up the droplets clinging to her chest, the ones dripping down her neck too…

  “I do like you wet, soaking wet if I’m being honest, but I figured you’d want some warm clothes while you ride out the storm.”

  “I’m surprised you’re offering me any clothes at all,” she cooed, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  “Touché, but the one and only reason why is because Mila’s here.”

  Vida stilled against me. “Oh my God. I didn’t know, I’m sorry. Do you want me to go?”

  “Hell no I don’t. We’ll just have to be quiet since she’s asleep. Think you can behave?”

  A muted nod was my response but if the sly little smirk she gleamed at me as I led her through the apartment said anything at all, it’s that she didn’t believe she could behave either. And maybe I didn’t really want her to anyway. I’d been craving her for weeks, getting little tastes here and there, and now here she was, in my home, with no Betty or fifteen minute rule in sight.

  “That tee will work just fine,” she said as I rifled through my dresser for a pair of sweat pants that might fit her.

  Turning my head toward her, I arched a curious brow at just how brazen her admission sounded. “So much for behaving, huh?”