by Hughes, Maya
“You said it was every man for himself.” I held up my hands like I was helpless in going against the rules.
“Cutthroat to the end.” He shook his head.
“I have my moments.” I shrugged, twirling my gun on my pointer finger.
“What was the spin move you did right there? Looks like you’ve spent a little time on the pole.” He said it jokingly, the way they all teased each other, but I wanted to tell him, to share another part of myself with him.
He bent down to pick up some of the darts off the floor.
“I do have experience.”
He cocked his head to the side.
“You know. With the pole.”
His eyes widened.
My tongue felt like it was in knots and I was flustered. “With pole dancing. Not with actual stripping or anything. I have a pole in my bedroom; it’s skinnier than this one, but that was what happened with the leap and then with the swing I did right there.” I gestured to the support pole.
Berk stayed in his crouch like he’d been frozen solid and then he moved in a blur.
He grabbed my hand and tugged me up the stairs, the darts long-forgotten and dropped to the floor.
“We’re leaving. Eat without us,” he shouted to everyone standing in the kitchen, portioning out food onto their plates.
His legs were a hell of a lot longer than mine, and unlike our jog at Kelland Estate, I could barely keep up.
“Berk, where the hell are we going?”
21
Berk
I didn’t even bother to close the door.
Charging across the street, I was seconds from throwing Jules over my shoulder. My hard on made it hard to run, but we came to a not-so-gentlemanly agreement to suffer through the sprint for the reward at the end of the tunnel—Jules.
I was so pissed we’d gotten that pole removed from my bedroom when we moved into The Brothel last year. Catching random people doing their own strip shows in my room wasn’t exactly the best way to get any studying done—and it also gave the wrong impression about me.
Damn, that would’ve been a sight to see—Jules in my bedroom showing off her skills. But this was better. This was so much better. Her house was empty. No one to interrupt. No one to see everything she was going to show me.
All those times I’d seen her in her room through the shades and I’d thought it was just her dancing. She was dancing, alright. On a freaking pole. And I wasn’t going to miss this next performance for the world.
“Ah, Berk, what are we doing?” She stumbled to keep up, her sneakers slapping on the pavement.
I turned to look at her over my shoulder. “You can’t drop the pole dancing bomb after that move you pulled back there and think I’m not going to want to see.”
She tugged against my hold on her hand as we hit the top step of her porch. “You want to see me dance?”
“Why the hell do you think I’m seconds away from throwing you over my shoulder?”
“I don’t know.” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose in that adorable, I’m-stalling-for-time-way. “Cause you thought it was super out-of-bounds for me to mention it and didn’t want anyone else to hear what I’d said?” She looked down at her shoes and shrugged.
“Jules, if you don’t show me all your moves, I might have to use my imagination, and I don’t know if you want me doing that.”
She peered up and the corner of her mouth lifted. “Maybe I do.”
We rushed inside and didn’t take the standard pit stop of the kitchen. She led the way, keeping my hand in hers as she climbed the steps. Like I was going anywhere. At this point, she’d have to call the cops to get me to leave.
Walking up the stairs was crossing a barrier that we’d erected between us. It was crossing an invisible line drawn across all our interactions, and doing it now I couldn’t believe I hadn’t blown through that thing ages ago. Her steps were quiet even on the creaky stairs.
We stood in front of her door. She glanced at me over her shoulder and bit her bottom lip. “I’ve only ever danced for one other person.”
A blaze of irrational jealousy ripped through me thinking about her dancing for some asshat.
“Elle isn’t exactly going to tell me if I suck, though.”
The tightness in my shoulders relaxed. Not an asshat. Elle, her best friend. I could deal with that. But the anticipation of seeing Jules dance made it hard to stand still and keep all the blood from shooting straight to my dick.
She let go of my hand and opened her door.
The floor-to-ceiling golden pole gleamed in the light from the hallway.
“I’ll find some music.”
“I’ll find the light switch.” I’d never been in her room before. Scanning the space, I spotted the lamp beside her bed. It would cast less light than the ceiling light and hopefully not put on a full display for anyone out on the street. Maybe I’d let her know I could see her dance from my room. Or maybe I’d keep those private shows to myself.
Her head shot up. “We can do this without the light.”
“No, Jules, we really can’t. I didn’t come all this way to not see you.” I reached under the lampshade and turned the knob. The double click was the only sound in the room.
She jumped when the soft light flipped on. “Music.” Dragging her hand through her hair, she scrolled through her phone and the Bluetooth speaker dinged, announcing it was connected.
My skin prickled with the anticipation of watching her. Of her watching me watch her. And letting her know there was nowhere else I’d rather be than here.
Holding onto the pole up high above her head, she spun around, keeping her body straight and out at an angle from the pole. Damn impressive upper body strength. A fun summer song came on and she lifted her leg into a split against the pole.
Flexibility con-fucking-firmed.
“Once, my leg slipped off and I banged my forehead on the pole. It looked like I’d gotten into a fight with a vacuum cleaner.” She laughed, peeking over at me.
“I’m sure no one noticed.”
“The spot was as big as a half dollar, but at least I hadn’t banged my nose.”
She did a few more solid moves, but kept her gaze as far away from me as it could get.
“I feel like you’re holding out on me, Frenchie.” I tried to keep my voice light, keep the weight of desire out of my voice, so I didn’t scare the shit out of her.
Like she was making a decision, she stood in front of the pole and squeezed her fists at her sides. “I can only show you what I can really do if I take my clothes off.”
A wheeze shot out of my mouth. I held onto the edge of the bed, so I didn’t tackle her to the floor and peel every piece of clothing off her with my teeth.
Damn, I needed to touch her.
I needed to touch her more than I needed my next breath.
I needed to touch her to make sure this wasn’t all a dream and the beautiful sight in front of me didn’t disappear before I could.
She was so gorgeous it hurt not to touch her.
“Not naked, but there’s no point in changing into my pole gear when I’m already in boy shorts and a sports bra.” She kept her back to me and slowly unbuttoned her jeans. The pop of the button and slide of the zipper had my dick straining against the metal zipper of my jeans.
Like she’d change her mind if she thought about it too long, she whipped her top off. I’d been to a couple strip clubs with some guys before, but this was a striptease that blew all the others out of the water.
The song switched and she took her hair down. It fell over half her face, obscuring her eyes.
“You got this, Jules,” she said under her breath.
She sure as hell did. Most girls would start with the porn star hair flips and flash as much skin as possible; that was their prerogative.
But Jules freaked out about a dress showing some cleavage.
Jules let a curse fly here and there and glanced around like the swear police wo
uld come lock her up.
Jules baked congrats cupcakes for my game.
Jules was here with me when she could be anywhere else.
Jules was a secret sexy goddess who had a pole in her bedroom.
I couldn’t hold back my smile. How had I ever not seen how brave she was? How indescribably beautiful?
Grabbing the pole, she raked her fingers through her hair and spun around more freely than she had before. She dipped and swayed to the music. As she came around the pole again she looked up at me, nervous, like I’d be anything but ready to come out of my skin with the need for her.
Whatever she saw in my face made her smile and she didn’t look away. With the pole against her back, she sank down, balancing herself with one hand.
“I’ll do some tricks now. You might want to sit back, some of these moves can get a little wild.”
Following instructions, I leaned back and braced my hands on the bed, a little worried about the growing erection I wouldn’t be able to hide.
Gaining speed, Jules leaned into the pole, and using her arms and legs ended up in a full split, doing a slow motion spin around like some insanely sexy cake topper. The routine continued, each move sending tingles through my fingertips.
She maintained eye contact with each move, always making sure I was watching. How could I not? A boldness developed and then she wasn’t just doing the moves, she was dancing. Dancing for me.
Flipping her hair back, she danced toward me. Her skin glistened and shined. I was sure she was even sweeter than she’d been before. I’d tasted her lips, now I wanted to taste all of her.
“What did you think?” She stood between my open legs. Her chest rose and fell. The tips of her nipples pebbled even through the fabric of her bra.
“I think you’ve been holding out on me and I’m going to need you to make that up to me.”
Her smile faltered for a second.
“How about this?” She spun around and tucked her hair over her shoulder, peering back at me as she sank lower. Excruciatingly slowly, until her ass rubbed against the front of my jeans. Damn, did I wish I was wearing breakaway pants right now.
She ground her hips to the rhythm of the music.
I couldn’t hold back anymore. My fingers sank into her soft flesh and I gripped her hips, pulling her back.
“I thought you weren’t allowed to touch the dancers.”
“Good thing we’re not at a strip club. Do you want me to stop?”
Her fingers tightened on my thighs.
I bit back a groan.
“No, I want you to keep going.”
I skimmed one hand along her stomach and up over her bra. “How far?”
She stilled for a second and grabbed onto my hand on her hip. Slowly, like she didn’t want to spook me, she pushed my hand lower, down to the front of her boy shorts. Using my fingers, she massaged the front of her pussy, using me as her own personal sex toy and I was a second away from coming in my boxers like it was my first time.
“I’m not going to be able to control myself, if you keep doing that.”
She let out a shuddering breath as I took over the massage, circling my fingers and touching her through the fabric, finding her clit.
“Who said I wanted you to?” She moaned.
Stopping all exploration of her body, I shoved my hand into my pocket, tugged out my wallet and fished out a condom quicker than I’d ever done anything in my life. I flung off my pants and with one hand I rolled on the condom. With the other, I tugged down her shorts, the fabric fraying a little and threads ripping.
“Careful.” She laughed.
Pulling her down onto me, I guided my throbbing cock inside her. “We’re way past careful, Frenchie.” Her velvety heat tightened around me as she sank down onto my lap.
I pumped into her with hard, ruthless strokes, barely able to contain myself. I wanted her facing me, I wanted her under me, wrapped around me.
She hissed and I wrapped my arms around her waist, tugging her back against my chest. “You good?”
“Don’t you fucking stop.” Her head dropped back to my shoulder.
“There she is.” I nipped at the smooth expanse of her neck.
“Who?” Her hips swiveled and she ground down on me.
“Fuck!” I dropped my hand between her thighs. Her wetness coated my fingers as I parted her folds and found her clit.
She shuddered against me, dropping her hips faster and I met each thrust driving up and into her. The thunderclap of my come was rolling just over the horizon, but I wasn’t getting there first. Hell no.
“Who?” Her smile turned into a moan as she repeated her question.
“The real Jules.” I circled her clit and her muscles seized and she tightened around me so hard black spots danced in front of my vision. She shouted my name loud enough for the university president and half of campus to hear. I squeezed her tighter, wrapping my arms across her chest and spilling into the latex between us.
With numb fingers and toes, I panted against the back of her shoulder. The salty, sweet taste of her skin lingered on my lips.
“What the hell was that?”
22
Jules
He chuckled and kissed my back. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
My head buzzed and my body tingled as aftershocks of my orgasm ripped through my body. “It’s not always like that with you?” I braced my hands on his thighs and lifted.
His arm tightened around my waist, not letting go.
I looked at him over my shoulder.
A strange, borderline angry look passed over his face. “No. Is it like that with other guys?”
My gaze shot to the floor. “No.” What the hell had that look been?
His hold loosened and he ran his hands up and down my sides. The flutter-light touch made me break out in goosebumps. “It’s never been like that, Jules.” The words caressed the back of my neck, still glistening with sweat.
I nodded and leaned back against him, savoring his heated skin against mine. The self-consciousness about sitting fully on his lap and not trying to brace my weight on my hands or legs wasn’t there. Berk’s entire body enveloped me and for the first time, I really felt dwarfed by him. After giving myself another five seconds to imprint this moment in my mind, I braced my hands on his knees and lifted off his lap. I groaned and attempted to walk. I was like a newborn baby deer.
He steadied me. “Careful.”
The gentle concern in his voice sent a thrill through me that had nothing to do with the ache between my thighs.
Now there was the awkward indecision. Did I grab my clothes and put them on? Get under the covers?
“How long have you been dancing?” Berk didn’t seem at all fazed by our nakedness. Well, he still had his jeans mostly on.
“Since freshman year. I dragged Elle along to the studio and I loved it.” I spotted my robe hanging off my closet door. SpongeBob wasn’t exactly sexy, but I didn’t have a pastel, silky robe to slip on.
“I can tell.” His hand circled my wrist as I tried to walk toward my robe. “Teach me something.”
A laugh burst free from my lips. “You want to learn?”
He shrugged. “Why not? It’s always good to learn new things.”
“Okay, let me just grab some shorts.” I started to walk away, but he kept his hold on me.
“No, like this.” His hungry gaze traveled up and down my body.
“It’s going to be hard to do with this getting in the way.” I wrapped my fingers around his growing erection.
He sucked in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth. “You let me worry about him.”
I ducked my head and laughed. “If you say so.”
The pole dancing lesson turned out to be one long string of excuses for Berk to rub his body against mine, not that I was complaining. Although, I was doubled over at the serious look on his face as he did a slow turn around the pole, keeping his arms straight and walking through the air. His
upper body strength was insane.
“How’d I do?” He smiled at me, stepping toward me until my back banged against the pole.
“Not bad for your first time.”
“We can schedule my next lesson soon, but I’m more than a little distracted.” In a second, his gaze switched from playful to hungry.
“You are.” My chest heaved and my words came out breathy.
“And it’s all your fault.”
He dipped and slid his hands behind my knees and around my shoulder, scooping me up before I could scream ‘no, you’ll break your back!’
Crossing the space between the pole and my bed in less than two steps, he set me down on the bed.
His erection was at head height and standing tall—and thick. Had that seriously been inside me? The ache between my legs deepened.
My mouth watered. I reached for the waistband, slipped my hand inside.
A groan broke free from his lips as my fingers curled around his rapidly-growing cock.
In here, I was bold Jules, pole dancer extraordinaire. And Berk didn’t seem to mind one bit.
“You’re killing me, Frenchie.” He closed his hand around my wrist, helping me keep time with a rhythm he liked. I wanted more of that. I wanted to know what a flick of my wrist would do as I hit the end of my stroke and was rewarded with a groan. I licked my lips to taste him.
“I was going to say the same thing.”
But every time I went for it, he blocked me.
He trailed his thumb over my bottom lip. “If you put your mouth on me, I’m done for, and I want this to keep going.”
I was sweaty and felt like I’d run a marathon, and I’d never felt more beautiful than when he looked into my eyes like he wanted to eat me up.
He grabbed a condom, rolling it on and pressed into me slow and steady, stretching me and settling his hips between my thighs like he never wanted to leave.
With a slow cant of his hips and a grind against my clit, I flew apart in a matter of minutes.
Resting my head on his chest, I trailed my fingers up and down his abs. A freaking six-pack, but I couldn’t feel self-conscious in the afterglow of my multiple orgasms.
