SIX: A Men of the Strip Anthology

by Marie Skye

  But I really wanted to fuck her, and it was obvious from the way she acted that she was willing… if I could just quit being such a whiny bitch. Drake would give me shit endlessly if he saw me like this. He knew I had it bad for Amy.

  Fuck it. Do it. Get the fuck out there and dance like a man!

  What a stupid line. I don’t even know how to dance.

  I just need to grind on her a little, right?

  Go out naked. Maybe you can skip the dance? No! Jesus Christ. What if she doesn’t want to fuck me? She might go back and tell everyone at the department. Then I’ll have every ladder truck from here to Cuyoga Falls talking.

  Like they aren’t already after what happened to Drake.

  Fuck a billy goat gruff…

  I snatched the towel and wrapped it around my waist, rolling it securely to avoid any accidental drops. It didn’t do much to hide my erection. Maybe that’s all the subtlety I needed.

  Letting out a forced sigh I pulled the bathroom door open. If I had wanted to be stealthy I wouldn’t have had a chance. The old wood of the door, with it’s 80 years of paint layers, always stuck a bit and released with a loud pop and groan of wood.

  Not that it mattered. Amy was waiting outside the bathroom standing up against my couch.

  “I was starting to think I might have to come in after you.” She settled more against the couch and I watched her flesh shift. The exposed thighs, the curves of her hips, and the way they sloped up toward her breast and oh my god she was standing in my living room with nothing on but sheer white panties and those boots.

  No matter how exotic my imagination got with the fantasies I’ve had about Amy in the past they didn’t hold a candle to how she looked in front of me. I didn’t have words. I was absolutely fucking fixated.

  “Do you think the boots are a little much? She twisted a leg and hips a bit, turning to give me a side view showing off the ample ass that was pouring out of the skimpy panties she wore.

  “You’re not a little anything, woman.” I scoffed and shook my head. “Goddamn you look so good.”

  She closed the space between us, her boots clacking against the wood floor the only sound other than the wicked pounding of blood in my ears. “Where’s your bedroom, August?”

  I don’t need a bedroom.

  I don’t know if I said it, or thought it, but simultaneously dropped the towel from my waist and reached a hand around to grip deep into the meat of her ass, dragging her into me. I tried for a less aggressive kiss but when her skin hit mine and I squeezed her close she moaned softly and forced her tongue in to dance with mine.

  We moved against one another, weight shifting from one side to the other as we feverishly explored one another. She did more exploring than me. Her hands were rubbing and palming at my chest, abs, and hips before she closed a hand around my cock.

  My hand still hadn’t moved. I’d wanted nothing more than to feel those thick curves in my hands for years and I had a death grip that I wouldn’t soon release. My other hand closed on her throat, pushing her chin up a bit, testing her. I felt her relax and give herself over to me as she moaned into my mouth again.

  That was all I needed.

  She was expecting to move to the couch as I felt her weight shift but I pulled her in the other direction, turning her as we stumbled a few steps into one of the large windows.

  I pressed her back into the curtain, the glass rattling behind it as we writhed against the frame of the window, our mouths still locked. She bit at my lip as her fingers tightened around my length and she forced her hips toward me.

  The cold material of her boot felt like ice biting my skin as she lifted one leg and wrapped it over mine. Our hands met and seemed to fight for both space and control as I tried to tug her panties to the side while she groped to position me.

  Amy winced and gasped quietly, sucking through her teeth when I entered her, moving a little too quickly. I couldn’t help my eagerness. I wanted all of me inside her, all at once, and I didn’t want to leave. Driving into her she pulled me close, her leg gripping me tight and her arm wrapped around my neck.

  I pushed into her again, each thrust shaking the glass as she settled down into the large frame of the windowsill. And with each thrust I’d lift and twist her ass in my hand. Her breath was hot in my face, and she was letting out a stream of unintelligible words between soft cries and gasping. My thighs were starting to burn, and I could feel the muscles in my back complaining but I didn’t give a shit. I’d hurt later but it would be worth it, just as long as my legs didn’t give out on me.

  The volume of her cries grew, and I felt her tightening on me as my pace quickened. Her head fell back into ardent moans and she grabbed blindly for the curtain, pulling at it to climb higher onto me while at the same time rolling her hips in waves.

  She hit first, or at least I assumed, because she suddenly went rigid and practically climbed the curtain. That drove me beyond my controllable limits and I fell into her as my body spasmed and my thighs gave way. We slid off the window sill and down to the floor together amid the sound of ripping fabric as the old curtains gave way.

  I hadn’t felt this normal, alive, and energized in months. Being responsible for Drake’s death stole everything from me, or I had given it over willingly. Either way there was little motivation to do anything. I felt like a husk.

  Amy seemed to fill that in somewhat. A physical connection to a world I couldn’t be a part of any more. Standing naked against the wall by the bathroom I watched her tug and struggle with the tight pants. I wanted more of her, partly for the pleasure but mostly – I think – to feel that connection to what I used to be.

  She lifted her eyes to me, smiling softly with her head cocked as she shook her hips to seat the jeans and button them. “Aren’t you gonna get dressed?”

  I put out a frown and shook my head. I wanted to ask her to stay but she seemed pretty set on leaving with how quickly she was getting dressed. My place wasn’t exactly in the best shape for an overnight guest anyhow.

  Taking in the rest of the darkened living room I realized that it was considerably cleaner than when I had left. Not clean, mind you, but Amy had obviously picked up quite a bit while I was in the shower.

  She slid back into her top as she came up in front of me, scratching slowly and playfully at my bare chest while her eyes lingered downward. A wry smile curled across her face when she pinched at my nipple causing me to wince and squirm.

  “I can’t stay.”

  “I figured. No worries. Can I call you?”

  “Absolutely. We need to do that at least once more.”

  “Just once?”

  “At least. I’ll see you again tonight though.”

  “What time are you coming back over?”

  “At the club. You’re going back, right?”

  I scratched at the stubble on my cheek and down to my neck, sighing and shrugging. I hadn’t given it much thought but was on the fence about it. There was no argument the cash was great, but it was so far out of the norm for me.

  I just shrugged in response.

  Amy watched me and sighed, her shoulders settling a bit. The energy in her eyes seemed to dull a little and she shook her head. “August, I know what happened was hard on you. It turned your life upside down and ended your career if we’re being honest here.”

  My gut twisted as she spoke, churning knife blades around in the buzz of the evening that threw me headlong toward a more somber mood.

  “But you need to let go, August, or be dragged. Your life isn’t over. Chilling in that comfort zone and hanging on to your old life is just gonna trap you.”

  “Sage advice from the hot firefighter in hooker boots.”

  She let out an exaggerated gasp, touching her chest. “How dare you project onto my boots. I’ll have you know I took six credit hours of psychology as part of my cert. My advice is perfectly sound, sir.”

  We always had great chemistry when we bumped into each other. Amy was fun, flirty, a
nd hella playful. I don’t know why it took so long for this to happen.

  It probably had something to do with me not having the nerve to ask her out.

  “Why now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why tonight? What was different, Amy? We’ve been around each other for years. What made you chase me down tonight?”

  She shrugged a little, playing with her fingers as she looked at her hands. “I don’t know. You never asked, and you always seemed too nice anyway. Then there you are, dancing in a strip club with that giant fuzzy rabbit cock swinging.”

  “That turned you on, huh?”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to sit on Roger Rabbit’s face since I was twelve years old.”

  “So, it was the costume that did it huh?”

  “Oh definitely. If you put a woman in that costume, I’d have fucked her tonight.”

  “I guess we’re lucky it was me then, huh?”

  “I guess we are.” She smiled at me and I leaned in, kissing her. It was less aggressive this time, and it felt good.

  “So, you think my destiny is to become a stripper, huh?”

  “I think you looked right at home at the club, and you looked happy. Life’s too short not to chase after what you think will make you happy.”

  My eyes came up to meet hers when she said that, and we stared at one another a moment. I could feel the heat radiating off her.

  “Think about it, August.” She kissed me again and touched my cheek, then gave it a playful slap as she squinted at me. The cute aggression in her face made me want to follow her right out the door, clothes be damned. She headed for the door of the apartment as I stood there leaning against the wall and her words tumbled over one another in my head.

  “Amy,” she paused as she started to open the door and looked to me. “You’ll be there tonight then?”

  A smile crept across her face as she eased slowly out the door. “Of course. You still owe me a dance.”

  About Derek

  Derek is a retired Emergency Medical Professional and has been a lover of telling stories his entire life, having made the transition from “filthy liar” to “sexy author” about the same time silver hairs started showing up in his face (and other places.)

  In the early days, he attempted to write science fiction and high fantasy, but discovered it was more fun to write about people touching other people’s tingle-places (smut is cool) while mixing in action, explosions, and plenty of WTF moments.

  He’s also a gamer, gym rat, snow hater (despite living in Michigan), life liver, stunt double for Hulk, and he considers himself to be aggressively unfancy.

  Stalk him:

  www.Facebook.com/authorderekadam

  Twitter @tbaymedia

  Instagram @authorderekadam

  Order signed paperbacks, find me at local events and speaking engagements, join my VIP newsletter, order apparel and more on my website

  www.AuthorDerekAdam.com

  More Books from Derek Adam

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  With 12 years under his belt as a highly-regarded paramedic in Detroit, Bobbie Badger has seen it all. Despite a tragic loss that shattered his home life, he has remained a stoic guardian to the city, committed to saving lives. Until someone, or something, chose him as a target.

  As ominous warnings surface, and those closest to him begin to turn up dead, Badger’s only salvation could rest with his estranged wife, Holly - a combat veteran, and sheriff’s deputy. Will skill, passion, and determination be enough to overcome what hunts him?

  Due Soldati – Crime Thriller Romance

  Carter Avery is a by-the-book detective for Detroit and surrounding Wayne County. Known for his cunning and eagle eyes on the crime scene, he’s assigned to decipher a string of unusual murders that will test his skill, and that of his new partner, Nick Farzo. In a city wrought with political corruption and organized crime, these two white-knight detectives will stop at nothing to put the offenders behind bars.

  That is, until an outside influence delivers an ultimatum to the city of Detroit on the eve of Devil’s Night, where record number arson outbreaks plague the city annually. When entire fire crews start turning up dead, and the women closest to Nick and Carter come under fire, these two soldiers may have to loosen their moral code to put their target down.

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  There’s a world just beyond the veil… in the dark, out of sight, and out of reach for most. That is where they live. Spirits, demons, and creatures of myth.

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  After a chance encounter, Luca will awaken something in Emma that will force her to face her most difficult struggles, and inspire a whole new reason to fight.

  Copyright 2017 © Janine Infante Bosco

  All Rights Reserved

  1

  Killing the ignition on my truck, I glance out the window at the flashing neon sign and notice the line that wraps around the building. Dressed in their most provocative clothing, women from all over stand in heels they can’t walk in, hoping they’ve brought enough singles with them to live out their fantasies. Some are here to celebrate a bride-to-be, others are here because the ink has dried on their divorce papers and they’re looking to jump back in the saddle. And let’s not forget the unspoken law of girl code that states every woman deserves at least one lap dance in her life. If it’s her birthday, maybe she’ll get two. Then there are a few who come just for a night out.

  Whatever the excuse, they’ve traveled to the strip because the men of SIX put on one hell of a fucking show and when they leave, when the show is over and they’re panting for more, they stop at the drugstore to stock up on condoms or sometimes a value pack of batteries.

  Reaching into the backseat, I pull my duffel back out and sling it over my shoulder as I climb out of my truck. Lowering the brim of my Yankee hat, I pull my hood over my head and cross the parking lot. They call out, screaming my name—Gio! Take it off! Gio, it’s my last night single! Take me home with you!

  Rolling my eyes, I pull open the door and dip inside. My phone rings in my pocket and I pause, pulling it from my jeans. I forget to breathe and swallow the lump in my throat just as I do every time my sister’s number flashes across the screen. Drawing in a deep breath, I swipe my thumb across the screen accepting the call and lift the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, I know you worked all day,” Francesca says.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask instantly. “Matteo he’s good?”

  “Yes, but he wanted me to call you,” she replies. “I told him you’d be here in the morning—”

  “Put him on the phone, Frankie,” I interrupt, adjusting the phone to my ear. She hesitates for a second, huffing out a breath but, a moment later I hear the strained voice of my five-year-old nephew.

  “Uncle G,” he greets between breaths.

  “How’s my favorite boy doing?”

  “Okay,” he replies. The two syllables sound strangled coming from him, a sure sign he isn’t that okay at all. “Mommy said you were coming to see me tomorrow.”

  “I sure am, and I’ve got a surprise for you,” I tell him, swallo
wing hard. Have you ever wished you could switch places with someone else? If I could I’d be the one lying in a hospital bed fighting for my life, not him.

  “I bet I know what it is,” he says.

  A smile creeps across my face as I lean against the wall.

  “We’ll see,” I tell him. “I’ll be there bright and early so why don’t you get some rest.”

  “Okay, Uncle G.”

  “I love you, kid,” I add hoarsely.

  “Love you too,” he whispers before I hear him hand the phone back to my sister. We say our goodbyes and I end the call. Quietly, I stand there staring at my phone. I touch the camera roll and swipe through my photos, pausing at the first one of Matteo that I come across. If I ever needed a reminder as to why I grind as hard as I do all I gotta do is look at his face. That boy is my why.

  Exhaling, I lift my bag higher onto my shoulder and make my way through the hallway, following the sound of Betty’s raspy voice. Muttering a curse, I glance down at the watch on my wrist and realize the flamboyant bitch is going to tie my balls in a knot because I’m ten minutes. A strike I don’t need right now. Blowing a billow of smoke out of her mouth, she coughs and tries to continue her pre-show lecture. Setting my duffel bag down, I cross my arms against my chest as her eyes slice to me.

  “Nice of you to show up, beefcake,” she sneers.

  There is no use in giving the modern-day Blanche Devereaux an apology she’ll only tell me to bend over. Dismissing the others, she orders them to continue to dress before turning to Jag and informing him he goes on in five minutes. Turning away, I start to pull the tacky policeman uniform from my bag. It’s wrinkled as fuck but I could give a shit less. I’m dead tired and to say I don’t want to be here, dry humping a bunch of horny bitches is the understatement of the year.