I turn to walk away, but stop before taking a step. “Do me a favor and don’t describe me to her.”
She nods in understanding so I turn and walk away.
Hope she still likes surprises . . .
HALF ASLEEP, I FIGHT TO stay awake while finishing up my makeup. As much as I don’t want to be here tonight, I’m up next on stage and I really don’t have much of a choice. A huge part of me wanted to call in tonight, but the other part of me knows I can’t let my emotions get in the way of earning my bill money. Still, I’m just so . . . exhausted.
I crawled out of Hemy’s bed around eight this morning and left while he was too deep in sleep to take notice. I knew I had to get out of there before he woke, or else he would’ve somehow talked me into spending the whole day with him. I couldn’t let that happen. The more he brings up the past and shows me how different he is, the more I want to give in and trust him. It’s too soon for that.
After I got back to my own bed, I thought I would be able to get some rest, but I couldn’t shut my mind off enough to fall back asleep. I ended up spending most of the day cleaning a house that was already clean and watching stupid TV shows, hoping they would wear me down enough to sleep. No luck there.
Tossing down my eyeliner, I look over to see if Ash is dressed and ready to go. She’s up for her set on stage after me. I met Ash about a year ago, before I moved back home. We hit it off really fast and after she explained how she was tired of her dull life and her parents smothering her, I thought maybe it would be nice to bring her home with me and let her live a little.
I really had no idea what the hell I was going to do for a job, but then an old friend of mine told me about Vixens needing a couple dancers. I mentioned it to Ash and in her rebellious state she was down for it, and ready to have a little fun. Plus, knowing that I was going to be so close to Hemy kind of made me want to rebel a bit myself. I needed a hard exterior to make me seem less vulnerable. It worked for a while.
“You still like this job, Ash?” I ask, now questioning my decision to bring her here.
Smiling, she sets down her red lipstick and uncrosses her legs. “Yeah, for now. It’s not a bad place. Plus, the money is way better than working some dead end waitressing job.” She shrugs. “Might as well have a bit of fun while I’m still young.”
I return her smile and then look beside us as the door opens and Kylie rushes in. She gives me a not so pleasant look and rolls her eyes. “There’s been a change of plans. You’re not going to be dancing on stage tonight.”
Standing up, I place my hands on my hips and give her an equally disgusted look. Kylie usually seems to be friendly, but right now, I feel like slapping that smug look off her pretty little face.
“And why the hell is that?”
Mumbling under her breath, she tosses me a wad of cash and I reach out, barely catching it. “I can’t believe Roman agreed to this, but someone paid a shit ton of money to have you do a private dance instead. Roman told me to give you a grand to do it.” She turns and starts heading back for the door. “The sexy asshole is waiting in room ten. You probably shouldn’t keep him waiting. Damn asshole,” she mutters and leaves the room.
I hold up the wad of cash and bite my bottom lip in thought. I feel a rush at the thought that Hemy could very well be that sexy asshole waiting on me. The problem with that is I wouldn’t expect him to pay a ton of money for me to dance for him when he knows he can practically get anything he wants. He always did . . . until I left him.
Just as quickly as I let the thought consume me, I push it away and take a deep breath. I guess if anything, it’s still better than being on stage. I still can’t get used to dancing for a room full of men. I seem to do better one on one. Plus, it’s easier to stay in command when you only have one asshole to deal with.
Handing the cash to Ash, I force a smile. “Mind putting that away for us? Looks like I have a sexy asshole waiting for a show.”
We both laugh as I start backing away.
“Seems like a pretty generous asshole at least.” She lifts a brow and waves the cash. “Tell him thanks from the both of us. I’ll be lucky to make half that on stage.”
GATHERING MY THOUGHTS, I TAKE my time walking to room ten. If this asshole was desperate enough to pay the amount of money this had to have cost, then he’s desperate enough that he’ll wait and still enjoy it when I get there.
Walking past the main room, I see it’s almost filled to capacity now. The music is loud, the men are loud, and the flashing lights make it harder to concentrate on what’s on stage. I guess the strobe effects and beat of the music make it more exciting for the men, and to make them feel they have to fight in order to see the half naked girls swaying before them. It keeps them around longer, wanting to see more. That’s what Roman thinks, at least. I think it’s annoying as shit.
I make it down the hall and stop directly in front of the door, labeled with the number ten, staring for a moment before pushing the door open and stepping inside. I close the door behind me and try not to pay attention to who is in the room.
Room ten is the biggest private room we have. It’s used for rich clients that want to remain discrete and don’t want their faces shown to the public. Off in the back of the room, there’s a huge leather chair for the client to relax in, and a light switch, giving them the option of showing their face or not. Lucky for me, this client wants to be kept a secret. It makes it easier to dance when I don’t have to look into the creepy eyes that are glued to my every move. It’s hard to be sexy when you feel so damn gross sometimes, as if the filth is sticking to you just by being in the room.
Pushing all thoughts aside, I walk past the darkened corner, taking long, smooth steps, and swaying my hips on my way up to the stage. The music is already playing a slow, sexy song; perfect for getting aroused to.
Standing with my back against the pole, I bring one arm back to wrap around it, and slowly lowering my body down the pole, while rubbing my other hand down the center of my body, over the white lace. Once I get close to the ground, I spread my knees apart and lower my hand some more, biting my bottom lip, seductively.
I sway my hips to the rhythm of the music, releasing the pole, and wrapping my hands in my hair, tugging as I make my way back up the pole in a stance. I make sure to look in the direction of the darkened corner to verify to the client I’m indeed dancing for his pleasure and his alone. This usually helps me get additional tips on top of what I already get for doing the private dance.
Slowly turning around, I wrap one leg around the pole and arch my back, swinging my wild hair around, before gripping the pole and spinning around it. I spin around a few times, moving seductively to the music, before releasing the pole, walking to the edge of the small stage, and reaching for the ribbon that’s holding my corset together.
Pretending as if I’m looking directly in the mysterious guy’s eyes, I lower myself to the surface of the stage, down to my ass, and spread my legs wide apart, revealing the sheer lace that’s in between. I slightly tug the ribbon, opening my top a little more, and rolling my hips up and down with my back pressed against the stage.
I’m lost in my own little world, hoping to get this guy off, when all of a sudden I feel two hands grip my thighs and pull me to the edge of the stage. Out of instinct, I swing one leg up and wrap it around the guy’s neck, squeezing.
I expect for whoever it is to let go of my thighs and apologize, but to my surprise, I get a growl and a bite on the inside of my thigh.
I recognize the growl right away, and I can’t help the reaction that my body gets from it. My heart jumps to my throat and my whole body trembles with pleasure.
Another soft bite causes me to open my eyes to the sight of Hemy standing there, his hair pulled back, and his deep amber eyes set on me. His grip on my thighs tightens as I release his neck and lean my head back with my hands in my hair.
“Fucking shit, Hemy,” I bite out. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here? I
told you-”
“Shhh . . .” he whispers against my thigh. “Don’t talk. I’m not here for that. I’m here to taste my pussy and remind you of what is mine.”
Before I can think of a response, my panties are pushed aside and Hemy moans out while running his thick finger over my slick folds. My body instantly reacts to his touch, causing me to moan out and bite my lip.
“You miss my mouth owning your pussy? It craves my tongue, doesn’t it, baby?” He runs a hand down my thigh while shoving a finger deep inside me, causing me to grip the stage. “Tell me how bad you want me to taste you,” he demands.
I look up at him, now getting a bit angry at him for making me admit it first. He’s doing this to see how badly I want him. It makes me want to slap him and then ride the shit out of him. He always had that effect on me.
“Maybe I don’t want you to,” I whisper, looking up to meet his stare. “Maybe someone else has already claimed what was once yours.” I can’t resist but to push him back. One of us is bound to cave first.
Pulling my body up higher, he softly blows on my swollen clit while pushing his finger in and out. “You’ll always be mine, Onyx.” He squeezes my thigh and rubs his bottom lip up my heat, causing me to moan out silently. “This pussy . . . will always be mine. I claimed it six years ago when I made you my girl, and nothing has changed since.”
He runs his lip up my pussy again, teasing me with his lip ring. I’m fighting so hard to resist, but I can’t help it. Seeing Hemy dressed up, makes me want to have an orgasm right on the spot. Feeling his mouth on me almost has me exploding beneath him.
I thrust my hips upward, silently begging for him to lick me. He laughs against my throbbing clit before reaching up with one hand and grabbing my left breast. His dominance has me on the verge of explosion and I want to feel this to its full extent.
“I want to feel your tongue on me so damn bad,” I blurt out, thrusting my hips again to meet his mouth. “Remind me of how good it feels. Now.”
With a cocky smile, Hemy grips my ass with both hands and pulls my hips up to meet his face. Looking at me with pure heated desire, he runs his tongue, slowly and teasingly, up my wetness, causing me to shake uncontrollably in his arms.
He rubs circles around my clit with his tongue, before trailing it back down my folds and pushing it into my entrance. This causes me to wrap my legs around his head and squeeze. I can’t seem to get him close enough and he knows this. He knows my weakness and is using it against me to get me where he wants me. It’s working and I hate him for it.
The better it feels the angrier I seem to get, until finally, I growl out and pull away from him. At least, I try to. He catches my legs and pulls me off stage so that I’m straddling his narrow hips. With a smile, he walks us both up the stairs and up to the stage.
He stops in front of the pole, turns my back toward it, and presses me against it, breathing in my ear. “Hold on tight.” With little effort, he lifts me up, causing me to reach behind me and grip onto the pole at a higher level. Before I can wonder what he’s doing, he rests my thighs on his shoulders, grips my waist, and buries his face in my pussy.
His tongue works like magic, owning my pussy just like in the past. My whole body trembles from the heat of his mouth and the feel of his tongue tasting me, slowly and teasingly.
He reaches up with one hand and rubs his thumb over my clit, while working his tongue, rough and fast, speeding up to get me off. My grip on the pole tightens as he shoves his tongue back inside just in time for me to come.
I shake on his shoulders for a few seconds, high off the release of my orgasm. It feels so damn good I can almost cry in relief. Releasing the pole, he pulls me away from it and slowly lowers me down his body, kissing me in different places along the way. It doesn’t take much for him to lower me back down to my feet and press his body into mine.
Looking into my eyes, he cups my face and runs his tongue over his lips in satisfaction. “I want you back at my place tonight.” I shake my head, but he stops me by pressing his lips against mine, claiming my lips as his. The kiss is rough and possessive, and I can’t help but to get turned on again.
After a few moments pass, he pulls away from the kiss and turns to walk away without another word. My whole body screams for me to run after him, but I can’t. I’m stuck in place, trying to figure out how I let him take control of me again.
Screw this. I’m letting him know that he doesn’t control me. He hasn’t in a long time. He has no say whether or not I go to his place and stay with him. He lost that say years ago.
Making sure that I’m covered, I rush out of the room and walk down the dark hallway. I stop when I get to the main room and look around in search of him. It doesn’t take long to point him out. With Hemy looking as sexy as he is tonight, it’s hard to miss him.
He’s standing next to a table with another guy. I recognize him from Jade’s party. He’s one of the three strippers that danced that night. I recognize the black hair and tattoos. Realizing that he must be here to watch one of the girls, my gut tells me to get Hemy out of here.
He might assume I'm giving into him, but I'm really just trying to preserve my secret a bit longer. He seems different, but I'm still scared.
Clearing my head and coming down from my temporary high, I walk over to the table, stopping in between him and the other guy. I place my hand on Hemy’s chest and can’t help the moan that slips out of my mouth. Just touching him has me all worked up.
“Wait for me outside. I’ll go grab my things and meet you by your truck.”
Biting his bottom lip, he grabs both of my hands and runs them up his chest, before pulling them up to wrap around his neck. He presses his body flush with mine and gives me a hooded look. “I don’t have my truck. We’ll take my motorcycle.”
I smile at the memory of when the bike was his. After a while, he gave up on it and got a new one. I couldn’t leave without it, because it brought back too many memories. I needed it as my safety net. I needed it to fall back on when I missed him too much, so after I packed my things and left that night, I sent my brother to pick up it up from storage. I made it mine with the memories of him.
“You mean my bike?” Smirking, I turn around in his arms and walk away, making him release me. If I know Hemy still, he’ll be outside as soon as I’m out of sight.
After quickly grabbing my things and changing, I make my way outside to see Hemy leaning against my bike. Seeing him standing in front of it causes my heart to clench in pain. It brings back too many memories of us as teens, me holding on tightly as he learned how to ride it. It didn’t take long and I always trusted him to keep me safe; a part of me still does.
He sees me approaching and walks over, placing the helmet on my head. “Give me the keys,” he orders.
I think about it for a second and almost consider making him ride on the back, but that would just look too weird to even enjoy. Hemy is definitely too dominant for that. Alpha male is what he’ll always be. Shit, it’s such a turn on.
I toss him the keys without a fight, pull my helmet on, and put my backpack on. My black boots dig into the gravel as I hop on the back and watch as Hemy jumps on the front.
I don’t know how much more of this I can take while guarding my heart.
I need to figure something out and fast . . .
THE FEEL OF HER ARMS wrapped around my waist brings me back to the past. After I learned how to ride this motorcycle for the first time, she spent almost every day on the back of it, the two of us just riding to forget. Those are some of my happiest memories.
I can tell she’s thinking about it too, because she hasn’t said a word since we left the club, and not to mention that her arms are practically squeezing the life out of me. She always did that unintentionally in the past when she was deep in thought, and man does it feel good. This is exactly what I was hoping for. If I want another chance with her, then I’ll have to remind her of the good stuff.
Riding past my block, I make
a turn down the street that leads to Mitch’s shop. Mitch’s family has owned Greenler’s Mechanics his whole life. Onyx and I spent a lot of time in it, playing and fooling around, when I was working on my motorcycle or showing off my mechanic skills to get her worked up. She always did have a thing for a dirty, hardworking man. I’m sure that hasn’t changed much. At least, I can only hope.
Onyx doesn’t bother looking up until we are already pulling up to the shop and parking. I can tell from her lack of smartass remarks. That, and I can feel her chin resting against my back. I don’t think it’s intentional, but I would dare say a word at the risk of her moving it. I feel her grip loosen as she lets out a little surprised breath. “Seriously, Hemy?” She releases my waist as I kill the engine. “Why would you bring me here? I thought we were going to your place.”
Not bothering to respond, I help her off the bike and watch as she walks up to the building and stands there in silence. She probably hasn’t even thought about this place in over four years. Bringing her here is sure to get the memories flowing in. It has to. I’m counting on it. Hell, I’m having a hard time just being here with her. I could do it alone over the years, but having her here makes my chest ache. It always will until she’s mine again.
Grinding my jaw and pushing back my emotions, I grab Onyx’s hand and pull her along with me as I walk around to the back and pull out my key. I’ve been meaning to work on my Harley for a while now, but I’ve been so damn busy working on other projects for Mitch that I haven’t been able to touch it. It’s about time I get my baby running good.
I push the door open and flip on the light. I feel Onyx’s hand squeeze mine, and then she lets go and steps inside. “I haven’t thought about this place in years, Hemy.” She looks around, her face void of emotions. “It looks exactly the same.” She cracks a smile. “As a matter of fact, I think you guys are still working on the same vehicles too.”
I let my own smile take over as I watch her laugh at her own joke. Damn, her laugh is just as beautiful as ever. I never could get enough of that sound.
Walk Of Shame Page 24
