“You’re my private dancer.”
I lean forward and spread my legs further apart as I put my hands on his knees. I begin a steady rhythm of stroking my bottom against his groin and I can feel how hard he is beneath me. “Oh, I’m much more than that.”
He groans and I know I’m pushing him to his brink. And I love it.
I get up from his lap and then lower myself to straddle him. I take his face in my hands and search his intense blue eyes. They’re different, darker. And fixated on me.
I feel him tremble under me and then his fingers slide into the crotch of my romper. But he doesn't touch me. I feel a sudden jerk downward and I realize he has ripped the bottom of my romper and pushed it up over my hips. “Laurelyn, I need to f**k you right now. Don’t make me beg.”
I reach for his fly, but my hands miss it because he almost bucks me off trying to get his pants shoved out of the way. He’s feral and demanding and I know there won’t be anything gentle about what’s going to happen. I’d be disappointed if there was.
When his pants and boxer briefs are out of the way, he jerks me down onto him as he thrusts up into me. I cry out because it’s so much deeper in this position. It feels like he’s pounding against my womb and I can’t decide if it’s pleasure or pain. He continues to thrust upward as he grasps my hips tightly to slam me down against him. There’s no doubt I’ll have bruises on my hips tomorrow from where his fingers are digging into my skin, but I don’t care. I wouldn’t have him stop for anything in the world right now.
I feel my explosion building and I don’t know how or why, but my mind registers the fact that Lachlan didn’t put a condom on. After all that grief over the busted rubber the night before, I can’t believe he doesn’t wear one tonight.
Dammit. I’m about to ruin the best sex I’ve ever had.
I lean back to see him and he thrusts deeper than ever. “Lachlan, you didn’t put a condom on.”
He grabs my hips painfully and thrusts deeply one last time as he groans loudly and then hisses through his teeth. “Ooh, Laurelyn.”
Shit. He just came inside me, no doubt at the door of my womb since he’s been knocking on it so hard. My immediate instinct is to get off him, but he’s holding me so tightly, there’s no way I can budge an inch.
When he’s finished, I’m still straddling him. We’re face to face. I fist a handful of hair and bring our foreheads together. I’m staring him directly in the eyes, about to chastise him for the missing rubber, when he grabs me around the neck to pull me down for a kiss.
When he stops, our foreheads are still touching and we’re both gasping for breath. “You are fan-fucking-tastic. I’ve never seen anything like that. When you told me you pole danced, that is not what I thought you did.”
“What did you think I meant?”
“I thought you’d hold on to the pole and spin around, maybe climb it a little if I was lucky, but damn, baby … you’re bewitching on that pole.”
I kiss him because I’m pleased by his praises, but I’m still going to bring up the absentee condom. “Was it my dancing or the hypnotic music that made you go crazy and forget to put on a condom?”
“I didn’t forget. I put it on when you started dancing.”
Oh. He slipped that one on without me knowing. “I should have known you wouldn’t forget after the huge deal you made about it last night.”
“It’s a good thing I put it on while you were dancing because there’s no way I could have stopped to do it once you straddled me.” He’s shaking his head like he’s in disbelief and pulls me into a tight hug. “I don’t want you to dance for anyone but me.”
I’m confused by that. Does he mean he doesn’t want me to dance for anyone else for the next three months?
As I’m catching my breath, the thought fades and my mind moves on to other things I don’t understand. I have to know if he felt the same unexplainable energy I did. “Did you feel different?”
He laughs and it vibrates against my chest. “I swear I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
That’s exactly how I felt. “Me, either, but it was strange. I almost felt hypnotized, like I was being controlled by something else more powerful than myself.”
“I think we were both being controlled by some mighty strong orgasms.”
“And you gave it to me. Thank you.”
He kisses my forehead. “Thank you for dancing for me. And for giving me sex so spectacular, I’m not sure it can ever be topped.”
I don’t say it, but I definitely think it—we’ve both just experienced something that can never be topped.
22
Jack McLachlan
We’re finishing dinner and I haven’t been able to look at Laurelyn one second without remembering her on that pole. I’ve been in a lot of strip clubs, but I’ve never seen anything like what she did. No stripper on a pole ever made me feel that way.
Putting that aside, there’s much more to her than being sexy, and I can’t wait to peel back all the layers to see what’s underneath. If she’ll let me. I worry she might not when I remember how she was about me learning her real name.
I’m glad I found her. And grateful she is willing to give us a chance.
She lifts her eye from her plate and beams. “What?”
I struggle, wondering if I should say anything. She might think I’m being too much like a chickie babe if she knows what I’m thinking, so I keep it simple. “Thank you for saying yes.”
“To what?”
“To us.”
She smiles and reaches across the table to touch my hand. “Thank you for choosing me. And for running into me at the club. And for moving Ben’s wine so you could steal a dance with me.”
“The dance that was cut short.” By none other than lover boy Ben. He is good at ruining things for me, but he won’t ruin this now. I get up from the table and offer Laurelyn my hand. “I would very much like to finish our dance.”
I take her in my arms and pull her close as we begin to move back and forth.
“Do you remember the song that was playing?”
I’m not musical like she is, but I could never forget the song. “It was ‘Someone Like You’ by Van Morrison.”
She smiles. “You remember.”
We sway to the silence for a while and then Laurelyn takes her head from my chest and asks me to kiss her. So I do. And that’s the end of our dance. For now.