But no matter. On the stage in front of me, a stripper rubbed her tits while swaying back and forth, giving me the eye. Earlier, she’d walked past and fumbled for my dick, whispering a price in my ear. Yeah, right. Please girlie, you’re talkin’ to a guy who’s an expert at this stuff. I’ve paid five times more for women a lot classier than you.
But still, there was no reason to be rude, so I sent her on her way with a friendly pat on the ass. But hey, these chickadees can smell money because here she was on stage now, still trying to get my attention. Then again, you gotta respect a girl who knows how to make a buck.
Sipping from a glass of scotch, I sat at my table in the middle of the club, one of nearly two dozen of Amanda’s “family and closest friends.” The place was packed wall to wall with New Yorkers, most of them with us. In my mind, complete boredom ruled, my brain a lifeless line of zzzzz.
But Amanda was having the time of her life. A bunch of male and female strippers pranced around half naked on the club’s biggest dais. They gyrated and fucked the air with their hips, simulating sex with each other. Other strippers worked the floor near my table, touching customers that looked willing to party or least pay top dollar for a lap dance.
God, was this supposed to be a good time? It was boring as hell, but hey, I’m the groom. So I slapped a jovial smile on my face, even if my heartbeat was flatlining. Kill me now.
And the life of the party as usual, Amanda practically molested one of the strippers jerking his junk around to the music on the mini stage in the center of the ladies’ tables. The stripper was sweaty and oiled up, gleaming under the lights. Just my fiancée’s type, going by the way she was cooing and touching his muscles, not to mention openly eyeing his package. Fucking disgusting if you ask me. Seriously, the dude was obviously on roids, with his acne-ravaged skin and overly developed legs. Moderation, buddy, moderation’s the name of the game.
But the chicks didn’t care. They screamed and clapped, egging Amanda on. And she started dancing to the music, wiggling this way and that. Her tight tube dress barely covered those saggy gazongas, the material riding up her skinny bottom.
And then my fiancée did it. Even though she’s forty, the woman bent over and tried to twerk, jerking her hips back and forth awkwardly. Shit, Miley Cyrus is fifteen and even she looks bad doing it. You think you’re gonna be better?
But her girlfriends were all over it, cackling and screaming like hyenas, whooping wildly. And Amanda went with it. Swaying unsteadily in those high heels, she literally jumped on the platform then, practically pushing the male stripper out of the way. Gross. Her hand came away dark with spray tan, probably some toxic shit.
But the dude saw money, and obligingly started to sway in time with her. Tellingly, the smile on his face was stiff, his dick limp and soft.
“Come on, big boy!” Amanda screamed at the stripper while dragging down the top of her dress to flash her tits. “Come on, whoop whoop!”
Fuck me, this was so embarrassing.
This was my fiancée for crying out loud, acting out Girls Gone Wild.
But shit, my bride to be’s forty, not eighteen.
No matter, because Amanda grabbed the guy by the waistband of his tight leather pants and dragged him closer. Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, he let her pull his hair and force his head down to her chest, motor boating those plastic balloons, like he was gonna get a mouthful.
Of course, the dude didn’t want a mouthful, male strippers are almost always gay. But Amanda went wild, pushing a giant tit between his lips, the poor guy’s eyes opening wide even as he jerked, startled.
But it was too late. When my fiancée gets what she wants, she goes wild. Because the woman groaned, eyes closed in ecstasy, male stripper sucking at her tit. And then she bent over backwards to give him more room, still moaning and carrying on like a bitch in heat. Her friends laughed and one of them jumped up behind Amanda, screaming, “You go girl! Work it, work it!”
Holy fuck.
I should be embarrassed. I should be dragging that dude off her, punching him in the gut.
But the thing is, I don’t care. She’s not really my woman, so the blonde’s free to do as she likes.
Alone at my table, I sipped my scotch and watched some more. The other guys all evaporated, probably doing the nasty in some dirty corner. Again, boredom struck me like a hammer to the head. This place was full of skanks. No way would I touch these girls with a ten foot pole.
Especially not since meeting Lacey.
The scotch burned going down my throat.
How fucked up was this. At my own bachelor party, I was dreaming about my fiancée’s daughter. That’s right, in a club filled with woman flesh, all I could think about was the brunette’s innocence. Those big caramel eyes. The way she smiled and laughed, even when my jokes weren’t funny.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I’ve done fucked up things in the past, but this really took the cake.
My future stepdaughter? Arrest me, now. Lock me up, because I deserve it.
And it’s only getting worse because Lacey’s on my mind all the time. Not just when I’m alone, but also in the most unlikely of places. At a business meeting. During conference calls with investors. Sometimes, I’d blink, and Lacey was there, big brown eyes shining, both shy and knowing in the way I loved. Just one look from her made my dick hard. And another look made me want to put my arms around her and protect the female.
Oh shit.
I’m so fucked.
But the crazy part is that she’s here too. I’ve been aware of her presence since minute one, as soon as I stepped into his hellhole. It’s like that with us now. We can sense each other at all times, the electricity a live wire running between our bodies.
So discreetly, I turned to look over my shoulder at a booth in the back. And sure enough, there was my girl, seated with her aunt and a couple other older ladies.
Don’t look, my conscience woke up enough to growl at me. Turn away now.
But I couldn’t. In this cesspool, Lacey was a much needed breath of fresh air, sweet and innocent, filling my lungs with goodness.
Because she looked uncomfortable. The brunette stared at her hands before shooting a glance at her mom and then quickly averting her eyes again. Hey, I don’t blame her. Amanda practically had her dress off now, bucking wildly against another oily male stripper. If she were my mom, I too would be humiliated.
Damn, I was starting to hate my own fiancée.
Why was she doing this to her daughter?
Hell, I can take it, you can’t embarrass me. But Lacey’s young and innocent. Why would you do this in front of your child?
Another quick glance Amanda’s way showed me that my wife-to-be was grinding on yet another stripper with her dress scrunched around her waist. None of her friends looked worried that she was doing anything wrong. Shit, obviously she didn’t think she was doing anything wrong.
Acting like a shameless whore a few days before your wedding while your fiancé sat only a few feet away? Normal for Amanda. This was wedding number four, after all.
Hell, maybe I’m the one who was old-fashioned.
My stepdaughter wasn’t old-fashioned though. Just classy. The dress she wore wasn’t especially sexy, but she filled it out just right. The material had a high neckline and went all the way down to her knees, but the way it draped over her big boobs and lush ass made my mouth water. Oh yeah, the right girl in the right dress can do it.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her throw back her drink and then grimace. Poor thing. Trying to get drunk to block out the pain that was her mom. I looked again to see if Amanda was getting bored with her temporary boyfriends yet.
Nope.
Not by a long shot.
On the little stage, the blonde had made herself the center of a man sandwich, grinding her ass back into the package of the guy behind her while grabbing the crotch of the dude in front of her. The music was Top Forty and getting loude
r by the second. If Amanda wasn’t my future wife, maybe I’d even admire what she was doing because hey, public sex was hot. After all, I’d done Lacey in the middle of a crowded club and that’d been fuckin’ amazing.
But this was some trashy shit, not the same at all. These guys were paid to grope her and act like they enjoyed it. Couldn’t she tell?
Suddenly, a soft voice sounded over my shoulder. Even with raucous cries of the crowd, Lacey’s voice was like a bell in my ear, soft and sweet.
“Hi.”
I turned, eating up that curvy form. Shit, she was beautiful, enticingly shy, and completely out of place. Hell, she was even shaking a little, this joint got under her skin. And yet I found it sexy. I’ve known lots of women, younger and older. But something about that sweetness, about the female’s giving nature, made me come to attention.
But this wasn’t the time to let it show.
"Hey," I drawled lazily. “What’s up?”
Lacey cleared her throat, all nerves, uncomfortable as multi-colored lights painted that curvy form in rainbows.
"How are you?” she asked, looking down then up again.
I almost laughed. We were in the middle of a crowded club, half-naked strippers gyrating all around. And yet the female as so innocent, asking “how are you?” like this was just another party.
So I went with it.
“Good,” I drawled. “Could be better, but good, considering.”
She blushed.
“I know, this is a little weird right?” she asked, gesturing to the naked figures on stage. One guy literally popped his dick out then, and the brunette jerked her eyes away, fixing them on mine, lips trembling.
I almost laughed.
“Real weird, sweetheart,” I agreed over the din. “Real weird. Not too many co-ed bachelor parties these days, but what do I know?” I shrugged. “This is my first time getting married.”
Lacey blushed again wildly. Because yeah, I’m an engaged man. To her mom, for what it’s worth.
But she bit her lip, trying to move forwards.
“Jake, I wanted to ask you,” she said, taking a deep breath. "What’s going on between us?”
The words rushed out of her in a whoof, like they’d been bottled for ages. "We can’t keep doing this," came her soft voice.
Holy shit, were we going to have this conversation now? Right here, with a disco ball flashing and blaring music? With guests all around?
But the thing is, no one could hear, and frankly, no one cared. People were too busy doing their own thing, ogling naked bodies, getting freaky and enjoying themselves.
So I looked the brunette straight in the eye.
"No shit," was my deep growl. “We can’t keep going on like this.”
Because it was true. What were we doing? Who falls for their future stepdaughter? This is shit that only happens in movies.
And Lacey agreed. Taking a deep breath, she looked me in the eye again.
"So what’s next?" came her soft voice.
She edged closer then, that sweet perfume wafting into my nostrils. Shit, the woman smelled good, all purity and innocence compared to the trash around us. “Because I’m going crazy, Jake. I really am. Something has to give.”
But I didn’t have any answers. Because what the fuck was I gonna do? On the one hand, I needed Amanda’s rolodex, and the fastest way to get access was by marrying her. As depraved as it sounds, I run a multi-billion dollar business, and I’m not above doing shit like this to make the dollars roll.
But now there was Lacey. I never expected to meet this sweetness, everything about the woman blowing me out of the water.
So I shrugged nonchalantly.
"We’ll see," was my low rumble. "We’ll see."
I didn't even know what the fuck I was talking about. I was way over my head with this girl. Yeah, this all started on a whim, but now we were swimming in the deep end, waves as high as a two-story building, threatening to crush us in one fell swoop.
But Lacey wasn’t satisfied.
“So you don’t have a plan?” came her low words.
I shrugged my shoulders, relaxed to the max. But every inch tingled, sizzling with awareness of the female.
“Naw, no plan,” I drawled carelessly. “Sometimes you just have to roll with it, baby girl. Can’t plan for everything.”
And she pulled back then, like I was poison.
“You can’t say that,” were her low words. “You can’t do that.”
I shrugged again.
“I’m forty-five honey. Been doin’ what I like for a long while,” came my lazy drawl. “Old dogs don’t got new tricks.”
And that was it. The girl whipped around so fast that those curls flew in the air, skirt swirling.
“Then goodbye Jake,” were her low words. “Goodbye.”
I sat there, stricken for a moment. Goodbye? Just like that? A rush of thoughts crowded my mind. Because no way was I ready for goodbye. I figured we’d talk a little, maybe fight, and then make-up with a down and dirty session. Goodbye? Now? Holy shit, I wasn’t ready.
So I reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling that curvy form to a halt. Fuck, she smelled so good, and I inhaled deeply, chest expanding. I could smell her all day, especially in a cesspool like this.
“Lacey,” came my low growl, persuasive yet rough. “Come on.”
But she shook her head furiously, refusing to look me in the eye.
“No,” the girl ground out under her breath. “This isn’t right. We have to have a plan. We have to do something, Jake,” she turned to me once more, eyes wide and pleading. “Don’t do this.”
No matter that her words didn’t make sense. I got what she was saying. This thing, whatever it was between us, was off-limits and taboo. More than taboo, it was triple-X forbidden.
But I couldn’t be controlled. I haven’t met a girl like this in ages, if ever, come to think about it. So my fingers gripped tightly into her arm, pressing so that it hurt.
“Ouch!” she squealed, looking down, still trying to pull away. “Stop!”
We were starting to make a scene, even in the crowded club. So I gripped harder and pulled the girl close.
"Lacey," I ground out in a warning. “We have to talk. But goodbye isn’t now.”
She shook her head desperately.
“No Jake, this isn’t right. Now let go ---“
Her words were cut off because I kissed her then. Yep, right there, in public, with members of the wedding party swirling around, I put my lips on that sweet pout and took what was mine.
Dangerous? Hell yeah.
Taboo? You bet.
But a hundred percent right? On the money, every time.
And the girl knew it too. She struggled at first, pushing at my massive chest, but it was no use. I’m double her weight and more than a foot taller than the brunette. My arms were like steel bands around that curvy form, pulling her to my hardness.
"Ummm--!" she protested at first, struggling against my mass. But the squirming stopped after a few seconds, and soon the sweet brunette was melting into my arms. “Mmmm,” was her next moan, that warm, hot breath mixing with mine.
But still, sanity prevailed. Because abruptly, the girl pushed against my chest again.
"Stop, stop!" came her desperate pant, eyes wide and begging. "We're in public. Anybody can see."
Frantically, Lacey pulled away, body twisting as she looked around. But no one noticed. It was dark, and Amanda and her buddies were still going at it, grinding and bumping on a male stripper. Poor guy. He was in hell, a bunch of forty year-old chicks rubbing themselves all over him. Dudes like that deserve hazard pay, I tell you.
So I ran with it. Grabbing Lacey’s hand, I pulled her close once more.
“No baby girl,” came my harsh whisper in her ear. “It ends when I say it ends, and not a moment sooner.”
And with that, she gave in. Those eyes closed, lashes fluttering shut as our lips met once more. It was crazy, completely insane. The t
wo of us in a liplock, sparks flying so high and bright that anyone could see. We were asking for it, for sure.
And yet strangely, the contact was more meaningful than anything that’s ever happened in my life. This brunette pulled my emotions like no one ever before, making my stomach churn and gut roil unsteadily, everything else around us fading to black.
And the monster awakened, ravenous as fuck.
So I grabbed her chin in my hand, looking deep into those caramel depths.
"You and me, Lacey,” was my rough growl. “You and me.”
And the way she responded this time made my knees buckle, heart on a rollercoaster. Because the female gazed into my eyes, trusting and willing, putting her soul into her words.
“Yes, Jake,” came that breathy whisper against my mouth. “Yes, it’s just us.”
And aw shit, but it was over then. Because I was putty in her hands. Me, Jake Mason, the dude who’s dirty enough to marry a woman for her connections, who’s willing to roll in the gutter to get what he wants, lost it all. Somehow, this teen girl penetrated my defenses, and I was desperate to make her mine once again, to put my stamp on that sweet form.
So springing into action, I dragged her to the men’s bathroom. Gentlemanly? Fuck no. Nice? Hell no. But like I caveman, I had to have her, putting my imprint on that sweet body.
And Lacey needed it too. Once we were inside, she headed straight for the handicap restroom, trembling as I slammed the metal door shut behind us.
And then it was just the two of us once more. The sweet female and me in a small space, the air between us electric. There were no sounds, just our heavy breathing as we stared at one another.
Shit.
I’m so screwed.
I’m a forty-five year old guy, and yet all I can think about is this sweet female.
But there was no time to think because it was ON. The beauty needed me as much as I needed her, and those little fingers scrabbled at my shirt, pulling the material open. Her lips sucked on a male nipple and I groaned, throwing my head back and seeing stars.
Spy Games: A Billionaire Bad Boy Heist Romance Page 24
