He leant in closer to me, his breath blowing down my neck, and I knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth. My body was already on high alert waiting for it. As soon as he’d walked through the door tonight I knew this would happen.
“How about a dance, Em?” he purred.
I gulped, swallowing my nervousness; I should have been used to doing this by now. In all honesty, I was used to it. Clients weren’t allowed to touch me. I’d done this hundreds of times, to hundreds of guys, and it had never bothered me. It was just business, a job, something I had to do for money. But for some reason, when I did it for Carson, my whole body vibrated with excitement. It wasn’t a job for me because I liked it way too much.
I nodded and stood, looking down at his handsome face as my heart started to thump wildly in my chest. He smiled and sat back on the black-velvet seat, spreading his arms along the top of the little sofa. He tipped his head back slightly, just watching me with his full lips parted fractionally.
I did my usual routine, doing everything he liked, grinding against him, making his breathing accelerate. I traced my hands up my body as I danced in front of him, swaying my hips seductively to the beat of the song, looking at him through my eyelashes. He was clearly enjoying it. His eyes were raking down my body, his hands in tight fists, his hips moving in time with mine, grinding back against me. I could feel how much he was enjoying it – maybe even as much as I was.
When the song finished I smiled and stopped, but he shook his head. “No, I have three weeks to make up for. Don’t stop. Keep ’em coming,” he instructed, his voice so husky and thick with lust I could barely breathe.
Smiling, I went in for another song, this time actually straddling him and gripping the front of his shirt as I pressed my forehead to his. My hair fell around our faces like a thick, silky curtain. His head tipped back and his lips brushed mine softly. The familiar feeling of lust sparked inside me at the gentle touch of his mouth on mine.
I wasn’t allowed to kiss him; it was against the rules for the main room. There were backrooms for that, for girls who wanted to take it that bit further with a client. I’d been in those rooms out the back numerous times over the last three years, at least once a week – well, when he was in town, that is. Only one man got behind my defences. Only one man was allowed to touch me. Only one man was allowed to make me feel like I was in Heaven.
Carson Matthews.
His lips found mine again, this time kissing me almost desperately. I kissed him back for a split-second before pulling away. I needed my job and this was against the rules; I couldn’t afford to get the sack. Wordlessly, I motioned my head toward the backrooms, keeping my eyes locked on his. With his breathing ragged, he nodded in agreement. His expression was pure want, pure need, and it made my mouth water.
Pushing myself off him, I took his hand, tugging him to his feet before leading him through the crowd to the back of the club and the private rooms which awaited us. As soon as the door was closed, his arms wrapped tightly around me, pushing me against the wall as his lips pressed against mine. The kiss was so sweet, so passionate, so tender it made me want to cry.
His lips travelled down my neck, making me gasp and tip my head back. I hadn’t had sex in three weeks and my goodness, the feelings had been building up inside me. Until that moment, I hadn’t realised how much I needed this to happen.
“I missed you, Em,” he whispered against my skin.
I tightened my hand in his light-brown hair. “I missed you, too, Carson.”
“How have you been? You need anything?” he asked, gently nibbling on my collarbone.
I gulped, not really knowing how to answer that question. I never wanted anything from him; I never expected anything from him. He had already given me the best thing he could have ever given me… but he didn’t know anything about that.
“I’m good,” I lied, gasping as his hands slowly roamed my body. He made a muffled reply as he kissed up my neck again, his fingers winding into my hair. “I saw you on TV,” I breathed.
Oh, God, why am I talking right now? Why can’t I just be quiet and enjoy it?
He pulled back a little and smiled his cute, dimpled smile. “You did?”
I nodded and pulled him closer to me again, not wanting any space between us. His hands slipped down to my bum, lifting me gently. Instinctively, my legs wrapped around his waist, clamping myself to him as tightly as I could, locking my ankles behind his back.
“You won your race in Spain. I saw you on the podium, spraying champagne,” I mumbled, unsure as to why I was still talking to him when all I wanted to do was throw him on the chair and ravage him to within an inch of his life.
He nodded and brushed my hair off my flushed face, his thumb tracing over my burning cheek. “Yeah. Did you watch the race?”
I gulped and shook my head. In total honesty, I couldn’t watch it. I hated to see him race; just the thought of him going 200mph and leaning so close to the ground made my blood turn to ice in my veins. I’d tried to watch once, but I was literally screaming at the TV and in the end, I had to turn it off before it gave me a heart attack.
“I don’t like it,” I admitted.
He laughed and kissed the tip of my nose, still pressing me against the wall tightly. “You’re so funny sometimes, Em. You could at least take an interest in what I do.” He pouted, faking hurt.
“Hey, I take an interest! I just don’t like the thought of you driving so freaking fast. And the corners… damn it, Carson, you almost touch the ground you lean over so far. It’s awful. I can’t watch it, baby, I can’t.”