Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
She unfroze herself, shook her head and moved toward the back of the club where the three steps led to the lighted stage.
“Might wanna take those things off your fuckin’ feet first,” he suggested. He wasn’t sure what they were called, but they were the most unsexy shoes he’d ever seen on a woman. Besides Crocs. Those gave him limp dick. Her shoes were a close second. Some kind of brown pleather shit.
She got to the end of the stage, bent over to unstrap her shoes, then kicked them off. Straightening her spine, she blew out a breath and climbed onto the stage.
Dawg leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Lemme know when you’re ready, Ember. I’ll hit the music.”
She nodded and eyeballed the pole.
“Poles are clean,” he reassured her. “Cleaning crew just left ‘bout an hour ago.”
With a little nod, she wrapped a hand around it. He really wanted her to fist that hot little hand around his dick instead.
He sighed. “Gotta plan, right?”
Her gaze dropped to him. “Yes. Get naked.”
Well, damn. “Normally gotta keep your bottoms on. Ain’t legal to take ‘em off when we’re open to the public. But since the club’s closed, leavin’ that up to you. Sometimes I give private parties for my VIPs an’ the girls go totally naked. They really rake in the tips those nights.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You do that,” Dawg said and then snorted, shaking his head.
“Okay,” she said softly, staring up at the pole.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Okay, what?”
“I’m ready.”
Dawg pinned his lips together. “Sure?”
She nodded, a determined look on her face.
Dawg shrugged and hit play on the remote. Ginuwine’s Pony began to blast through the hidden speakers.
Her body jerked at the sound. “What’s this?”
“Music. Just go with it.”
She bit her bottom lip again, and that went straight to his dick.
Then she began to move...
He was hoping he’d been wrong, and she was a secret little slut with hot moves that would make him want to bust a nut. But fuck no, she wasn’t. Her hips moved in a wooden circular motion as she held a death grip onto the pole with one hand.
Dawg groaned. This was going to be worse than he thought. As she tried to match the rhythm of the song, she threw her head back and closed her eyes, letting the music move through her.
Dawg sat forward in his chair. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...
She reached up to pull her hair clip out, and her golden hair cascaded down around her.
Holy fuck.
All that blonde hair and her natural looks...
He lost his breath as she continued to shift around awkwardly but reached for the top button of her blouse. Which was promising...
With visibly shaking hands, she worked the buttons out of their holes one by one, and as the fabric gaped, he caught glimpses of a black bra underneath.
He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat and he willed her fingers to move faster.
The little he saw was no grandma panty set. Fuck no, it wasn’t. He swore he got a glimpse of see-through lace.
She stopped unbuttoning when she got to her waist and reached around to the back of her skirt. Suddenly it shifted when it became loose and she caught his gaze as she began to push it down her hips.
The “suggestive” wink she gave him looked more like an eye twitch.
Even though this woman had the seduction skills of an eighty-year-old virgin, Dawg’s breath caught.
She stopped moving around the stage as she rolled the long skirt down her thighs. But he couldn’t see shit since her baggy blouse covered the V of her legs. He wouldn’t be surprised if the woman had a huge untrimmed bush trying to escape her panties.
Finally, the skirt dropped to her feet and she stepped out of it, almost tripping herself. He jerked forward as if he could catch her, but she caught her own balance and then stood there unsure, wearing just her blouse partially unbuttoned.
His eyes slid from her face down to her legs. What the fuck?
She was wearing thigh-high stockings!
Maybe she wasn’t lying about wearing an “outfit” under her conservative clothing.
But she just stood there, staring at him!
“You done?”
She shook her head. And, fuck him, she bit that bottom lip of hers again. That was going to be her signature move. She could do some sort of naughty teacher routine, and bite her bottom lip, while giving his customers an I-need-to-be-fucked look.
They’d be throwing twenties at her. Fuck, maybe even fifties.
She had no idea just how dick-hardening sexy she appeared with all that blonde hair loose, wearing thigh-highs and that half-open blouse. Like her brains had just been fucked out, and she was in a sex coma.
Jesus. He needed to see the rest of her. But not up on that stage. That was too impersonal, and he wanted to get so much more personal.