by Stewart, JM
****
As the change in music announced the beginning of her first set that night, Angela summoned as much of Candy as she could muster before strutting out on stage. At the end of the small runway, she froze.
Alex.
She hadn’t anticipated seeing him tonight, but there he sat, like she’d wished him into being. He lounged at a table toward the middle of the room with the two men he’d been coming to the club with. As her body began to dip and sway to the pulsing beat, she found herself caught in the pull between them.
Once again she danced for him and him alone. Yet, tonight felt different somehow. More intimate than the previous nights. The experience set her pulse thrumming. A luscious, arousing heat built within her that she wanted to savor, knowing this would be the last night she would see him.
In the middle of her second song, as she stripped off her top, he approached the stage. Standing directly across from her, his gaze locked on hers, dark and intense, a hidden meaning in those depths that she couldn’t fathom. As he slipped a folded twenty into her g-string, his fingers lingered on her bare skin. She couldn’t think much past the overwhelming desire currently turning her limbs to gelatin.
As the money slid against her skin, she felt the stiff card wrapped within the folded bill. She watched him return to his seat, curiosity pounding in her breast.
The next song seemed to last forever. Angela found herself caught. She loved the simple act of dancing for him, of allowing herself to savor the moment, but wanted to know what he’d written on the card. Considering how they’d left things the night before, the curiosity was killing her.
When the last song finally ended, she shot one last longing glance at his form in the audience before turning and striding off stage as fast as her legs could carry her without resorting to running. She made it to the dressing room, passing several girls getting ready for an upcoming show.
“Good show, Ang.” Heather, a petite blonde who’d been working at the club for several years now, called. She was on next.
“Thanks Heather. Good luck.” Angela waved as she hurried past and collapsed moments later into the chair at her dressing table. Her hands shook as she pulled the folded twenty from its spot in her g-string and opened it. The card was the same as the last two, his business contact. Flipping it over, she found neatly scrawled on the back: Golden Chalice. 815.
The Golden Chalice was one of the hotels on the strip. He’d given her his room number.
She slumped back against the chair and closed her eyes. It was a blatant invitation, but one that left the decision up to her. The question was, what did she want?
****
Angela clutched her hands together, a potent mixture of excitement and nerves winding through her, leaving her fidgeting like a small child as the elevator crept upward. It stopped at three different floors to let off passengers. She had to stifle a groan after each one. The ride seemed to take forever.
When her shift at the Diamond ended fifteen minutes ago, she hadn’t been aware of where she was headed. She hadn’t made the conscious decision until she found herself in the Golden Chalice’s lobby, staring at her reflection in the golden mirrored doors as she waited for the elevator. She’d never done anything this bold in her life. The excitement of that pulsed through her body. She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, visions of Alex forming in her mind. She could almost feel the velvet of his skin, could almost taste the flavor of his tongue.
The elevator lurched to stop, and Angela opened her eyes in time to see the doors ding open. The hotel name and emblem—a golden goblet, its bowl wide and tulip shaped, the stem flaring out from the base—adorned the wall across from her, beneath which stood the number eight.
She swallowed hard and stepped out into the quiet hallway. The red carpeting silenced her steps as she followed the gold lettered signs to where Alex’s room stood at the end of the hall. She stared at the black metal numbers adorning the door, lifted her hand, then paused. Panic set her pulse pounding. What if he recognized her? Would it put an end to their night? Would he still want her?
Part of her wanted him to know it was her, yearned to know what he’d say. Part of her was terrified of exactly that.
She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, trying to summon her courage. Visions of him filled her mind. She felt again the touch of his lips as he’d kissed her the night before. Remembered in full, vivid detail the sheer power of the passion in that kiss. Then opened her eyes and knocked on the door.
No turning back now.
The door swung open to reveal Alex, and her breath caught in her throat. She bit her lip, unable to resist soaking in the sight of him. He wore the same clothes he’d had on when he’d left the club, a pair of khaki slacks and a light blue button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
He looked delicious. The shirt hugged the contours of his body, shifting as he moved, hinting at the solid muscle that lurked beneath.
One hand on the door, he tucked the other in his pocket. “You came.”
His voice was a low rumble of pleasure that lit up her insides. Even the tips of her fingers pulsed with the excitement that fizzled through her body. The truth hit her, pooled low in her belly, hot, sensuous, and undeniable. She wanted this, wanted him. Whatever uncertainty she’d felt in the elevator flitted away.
“Yes.” The word left her mouth on a breathy exhalation.
He stepped back, pulling the door open wider. “Come in.”
Her body brushed his as she stepped across the threshold, an electric jolt coursing between them in that one simple touch. She stopped two steps into the room and turned to him. Tension rose thick and palpable, something hot and electric moving between them, so intense she thought for sure her bones would melt right along with her knees.
She wasn’t sure who moved first, her or him, but she breathed, blinked, and found herself in his arms, hands trapped against the solid wall of his chest. She gazed at him, vaguely heard the click of the door shutting behind her. His arms pulled her closer, the hard planes of his body solid against the softness of hers as he claimed her mouth.
She expected his kiss to be masterful, controlled. Alex had grown into a man who seemed to know what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to go get it. She figured he’d draw it out, torment her, simply because he could. But his body trembled against her. As his mouth slanted over hers, he groaned low in his throat, a sound of need too long denied that echoed her own. She wasn’t the only one thrown for a loop by what was happening.
“God I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all damn day.” He murmured against her lips as he tasted her again. His breath mingled with hers. His tongue tasted of whisky as it flicked into her mouth.
The exchange went to her head in a dizzying rush and left her clutching his shoulders in a vain attempt to stop herself from spinning off into the stars.
“Watching you dance tonight. Not being able to touch you.” His hands slid slowly over her, from one curve to another. The delicious feel of his warm palms finally, finally exploring her body seared her skin even through her dress.
“I thought I’d go mad wanting you.” He backed her up against the hotel room door, his hands skimming her sides, around to her backside then further down. Reaching her thighs, he lifted her off the floor. He pressed into her, his arousal thick and hard against her aching center.
She gasped, wrapped her legs around his waist. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”
His gaze caught hers, the exchange hot and tangible. Need rose within her, to give voice to the words seated on the tip of her tongue, to make him understand. “You should know, I don’t normally do this,” she whispered. He had to know that deep inside she wasn’t this person. She had never done this before and likely never would again.
Yet, there was something about him. Something about the way they were together, the sparks that flew so easily between them. Something in the way he looked at her that made her fee
l so beautiful and powerful. The part of her deep inside that had always been geeky Angie Lewis, the part David had shredded when he left, needed this. Needed Alex.
The emotion in Alex’s eyes changed as he stared at her. His gaze searched hers in a way that pinned her to her spot with its intensity. As if for that single moment, he’d let down his guard and was giving her a glimpse at the heart of the man. Everything she felt and couldn’t find the words to say echoed back at her from the depths of those soulful brown eyes.
“Me either.” He kissed her, so soft and tender it melted her toes.
She let out a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding and pressed her lips to his. They each had their different reasons, but for this one night, they needed each other. That was enough.
The ravenous kisses from moments ago gave way to softer, gentler sips and tastes. His lips explored hers, tender and unhurried. He built the fire in her belly all over again. She trembled. This night wouldn’t be like any other she’d ever had. The knowledge drummed inside of her, every bit as heady as the taste of the whisky on Alex’s tongue.
He turned and carried her down the small hallway to the bed. There she let her legs drop, her body slinking along his as she set her feet on the floor. He reached behind her and slowly slid down the zipper on the back of her dress.
She let the garment fall from her body to the floor, where it pooled at her feet. Her limbs trembled. Nervous butterflies tumbled in her stomach. She’d taken her clothes off in front of people before. She did it every weekend. Yet somehow this time felt different, more intimate, as if she peeled away the layers and revealed bits of her true self.
For him and him alone.
His hands slid to her hips. “Do I make you ache, Angela?”
Her heart tripped at his use of her real name, but his fingers wandered. She forgot to breathe, let alone think. He trailed his fingertips over her skin, so lightly he left goose bumps in his wake as they flittered up along her waist, to the undersides of her breasts.
“Have you imagined this moment?” he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. “When I’d touch you?”
She shuddered in response, gasped. “Yes.”
God help her, she had. In a matter of moments, the man left her trembling, desperate and needy. She’d never ached for a man quite the way she did him.
He scraped his teeth over her chin. “Tell me.”
“I thought about you all night last night.” She curled her fingers into his skin. “Kissing you, the taste of your mouth. Wishing you were there. To touch me.”
“Like this?” He placed a series of small kisses across her shoulder, his breaths blowing warm against her bare skin.
“Yes.” The word left her mouth on a breathy whisper.
“And this?” This time his mouth skimmed up the side of her neck, leaving goose bumps in his wake. Shivers chased each other up and down her spine.
She gasped, arched her neck to give him better access. “God, yes.”
“And this?” His hands slid over her breasts, softly kneading, flicking his thumbs over her aching nipples.
“Yes.” This time her voice shook with the force of the need shuddering through her. She was putty in the man’s hands, and he knew it. He left her light and free as a bird, free to give in to sensation.
“Did you touch yourself last night, while you were thinking of me?” His breath was hot in her ear, his voice cool and in control as his hand slid down her stomach and into her panties, finding her right where she ached the most.
“Yes.” She rasped the word, clutched his shoulders and arched into his hand as his fingers began a dizzying assault on her tender flesh. “Oh…”
“Me too.” His teeth raked over her earlobe.
The image of him flashed in her mind, of what he’d done while thinking of her. It combined with three days of a heightened sense of arousal to send her careening over the edge. She cried out as her knees refused to hold her up any longer. Her body shuddered in his arms with the force of her climax.
When the fog retreated from her brain, she found him holding her gently against his chest.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you let yourself go?” He wrapped his arms around her to tug her closer. His fingers slid up her back and began fiddling with the clasp on her bra as his teeth raked over her earlobe. “I want to see you. All of you.”
Sobered by his comment, she grasped his wrists, shaking her head as she pulled his hands away from her body. Instead, she took him by the waist, turned him, braced her hands on his chest, and gave a playful shove. He sank onto the edge of the bed. One corner of his mouth quirked, and he crooked a finger at her.
She shook her head again and sank into one of her dance routines from the club, let her hips sway to music only she could hear. “What were you thinking about me last night, Alex?” She dragged her hands deliberately up her body, the same way he’d done.
“Touching you.” He swiped a hand out, made a grab for her, but she wagged a finger at him and backed away.
Following his lead, she ran her hands up her stomach and over her breasts, kneading them. “Like this?”
Watching the flare of desire in his eyes, knowing he wanted her, not Candy, but her, filled her with a sense of power. It made her feel sexier and more beautiful than she’d felt in a very long time, even when she was up on stage. She wanted to give him the same amount of pleasure he gave her. She wanted to make this a night neither one of them would ever forget.
Chapter Four
Alex couldn’t contain the grin spreading across his face as he leaned back on his hands. For an extended moment, he allowed himself to watch Angela dance in front of him and soak in her every move. He’d taken a huge chance by giving her his room number. He honestly hadn’t expected her to accept the blatant invitation. When he’d opened the door and found her standing there, every inch of him had become instantly and painfully aroused.
He let his gaze drift over her now, followed the line of her body past the gentle swell of her hips, up over her full breasts that were encased in a black lace bra that set his pulse thundering.
The erotic play drove him insane. She had him. They both knew it. The funny part was, he’d started this, had wanted to tease her, to make her ache the way she’d made him ache these last three nights. Once again, however, she was holding her own. He found it sexy as hell.
Growing impatient with the play and wanting nothing more than to feel her soft body sliding against his, he sat up. “Come here. I want to touch you.”
A slow grin spread across her luscious mouth, but she remained where she was. The rocking of her hips shifted into slow figure eights drawn in the air. They swirled around and around in an erotic dance that only increased his yearning to feel her lush backside sway against him.
All the while, her hands slid down her body to finger the edges of her black lace panties, letting them dip, as if she were going to strip them, only to pull them back up. The way he’d seen her do at the club. The action did exactly what he knew it had been designed to do—it made him desperate to touch her, to grab her hips and sink into her warmth.
“What’s the magic word, Alex?” She twisted around, thrusting her rear-end at him, then, with another flick of her hips, faced him again.
He snaked an arm out, managed to catch her around the waist, and pulled her down onto his lap.
“Please,” he answered, nipping at her bottom lip.
The move left her seated on the edge of his knees, her legs straddling his thighs. The very heat of her brushed his arousal, which strained the front of his trousers.
It wasn’t nearly close enough. He slid his hands up her thighs to her backside, dragging her closer, letting her feel how much he wanted her.
She gasped and dropped her head back. Her hair cascaded down her back in soft waves that fell over his arm. He couldn’t resist the call of her exposed throat and leaned in, ran his lips lightly over her skin, flicking his tongue against the pulse at the ba
se of her neck. The subtle floral aroma of her perfume filled his nostrils every time he dragged in a breath. It swirled around him and made him feel wrapped in her.
He slid his hands up her taut stomach to curve around each breast, taking pleasure in the simple feel of them. A soft mewling left her mouth, the sound aroused and tortured at the same time.
When he dipped his head and laved his tongue over each taut peak, a cry tore from her throat. The sound nearly undid him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, biting into his flesh. A groan rose in his throat.
“God what you do to me,” he murmured against her skin.
Her head lifted. The inexplicable tidal wave that caught them every time their gazes met, passed between them again. She peeked up at him from beneath those lashes, for a moment no longer sassy and full of mischief, but shy and innocent.
The disconcerting sight drew and repelled him at the same time. It made him wonder what the hell he was even doing there. Yet at the same time, he knew—those eyes. God those eyes. They called to the deepest part of him, a part of him that hadn’t been touched in twelve long months. They made him long for nothing more than to get lost in them, for the simple need to know what he’d find on the other side. To remember what it was like to be human.
She broke the inexplicable connection first, looking down at his chest, her voice as quiet as the night as she reached for the buttons on his shirt. “You’re wearing way too much clothing, Alex.” She plucked the buttons free one by one with the tips of her fingernails.
“Feel free to help yourself,” he murmured.
She tugged his shirt from the waistband of his pants. Placing her palms against his chest, her hands glided over his skin, pushing the shirt from his shoulders.
He shrugged out of it then tossed the garment to the floor. Her hands resumed their torment, sliding down his ribcage, over his abdomen, and around to his back. Her light touch left goose bumps. She lowered her head and pressed velvet lips to his skin. She left a trail of fire as she rained soft, open mouthed kisses over his chest and shoulders.
