He nods. “Yup. He just headed up to the platinum room with a bottle of our most expensive whiskey. He asked that you entertain him again.”
My heart gives a little flutter in my chest. “Oh! Well… I will head upstairs now.”
Sam holds up a black pair of pointe shoes. “He wants you to wear these.”
My cheeks flame scarlet as I pluck them from his grasp. “Thank you.”
I climb the stairs, my heart in my throat. A giddy little voice in the back of my head is babbling about how Mr. X is here to see me.
But no. He’s not.
I have to remember that he’s here to see Cerise, who’s more confident and self-assured than me by a mile. It’s a show I put on, a diversion.
No one is interested in plain little me and it’s best that I remember that.
Swallowing tightly, I climb the last step to the Platinum room. Lifting my chin and planting a demure smile on my face, I see Mr. X’s dark figure through the open doorway.
He’s a little more disheveled this time. His tie is loosened at his neck, his dark suit jacket is thrown aside casually. When he sees me, his eyes light up like twin sapphires, sparkling dangerously.
I step into the room, closing the door behind myself. “Hello, you.”
He smirks, his eyes dropping to take in my whole body. “I couldn’t stay away,” he husks out.
The deep timbre of his voice gives me goosebumps. I press a button near the door to turn on my music. It’s low and rhythmic, making me sway along.
I smile and bend down, making quick work of swapping my stripper heels for pointe shoes.
When I finish tying them on, I stand, giving them a test. I lie and then do an arabesque. The slippers fit perfectly. Because of the variability of sizes and shapes, it’s nearly impossible to guess what size slipper someone is by just looking at them.
“How did you know what size to get?” I ask, walking across the room in slow steps.
He smiles coolly. “You ask too many questions, beauty.”
I stop when I’m inches away from him, tossing my hair and posing. “Did you miss me?”
Mr. X leans forward, looking me right in the eye and running his fingertips oh so lightly up my knee toward my hip. I sink my top teeth into my bottom lip.
I should push his hand away just as I did to the boy downstairs. I should put up hard boundaries and stick to them, be firm like Mia taught me.
Yet I don’t. I just let him touch me, throwing back my head and swaying my hips to the music. He slides his hand around my back and gives me a tug.
I have to take a little of my power back. So I pluck his wrist up and drop it by his side. “You’re just supposed to sit back and enjoy this,” I say sweetly.
His eyes narrow on my face and his lips twist. But I shut him up by moving closer, putting my legs just inside his, and lifting my leg high over my head. His breath all leaves him in a soft grunt as his eyes travel up my body.
“Fuck,” he mouths quietly. He reaches down to adjust his cock, leaving his hand on his lap. “You’re killing me, Cerise.”
The rush of emotion that I feel when he tells me that is addictive. I let my leg come down and kneel, my knees going wide as I straddle his lap.
He grabs my ass and pulls me down, grinding his cock between us. His eyes darken with need.
“God damn,” he grits out.
I lean forward, placing my hands on either side of his chest and pushing him back. As I push him back, he lifts his hips, grinding against me again.
I know I’m not really meant to get turned on. But he does briefly brush his cock against my pussy in a way that makes me tingle. Without thinking I let out the softest moan, pressing my hips down as I gyrate against his lap.
“Oh fuck,” he whispers, plowing his hand into my hair. He bucks against me, his eyes hard on my face. I bite my lip as my hips jerk against him; it’s hard not to close my eyes.
“That’s it,” he says through clenched teeth. “Right there, beauty. Don’t stop.”
I feel a damp spot growing on the flimsy piece of fabric between my thighs. I can admit it, I am very excited right now, ready to tear my clothes off and…
And what?
Let him penetrate me?
My cheeks flush. I need to chill out before I end up accidentally having full blown sex right here, right now.
I don’t want to stop, don’t want to slow it down. But I slow the rolling of my hips, opening my eyes.
Mr. X is watching me closely, his hips lifting in time with my own. “Are you sure you want to stop?”
His question makes me blush all the way down to the roots of my hair. I suck in a breath and push off his brawny chest, trying to play it off. Admittedly, I’m a little wobbly as I step away from his lap.
I turn around, letting him look at my ass. “I thought you might appreciate a different view.”
He glances up at me, his gaze tightening on my face. But after a second he shrugs a shoulder and reaches out to touch my ass cheek. “Your ass is perfect. Do you know that?”
I blush as I bend down to touch the floor, using my hands to push up onto my tiptoes again. Mr. X seems to like that, shifting his weight and bringing his hand back to the crotch of his slacks.
“Tell me you’ll be mine,” he says, his voice gone to gravel. “Dance just for me. Let me be your patron, Cerise.”
I sway along with the music. “You’ll have to give me a better name to call you than Mr. X.” I say, smiling.
He smirks. “Sit on my lap right now, beauty, and I’ll whisper it in your ear.”
I grin and take a seat on his lap, twerking rhythmically. Instantly his hands land on my hips. His cock is pressed against my ass. He groans and leans forward, whispering in my ear.
“You can call me Calum.”
I reach back and knot my fingers in his nape, steadying myself as my hips work. “Oh, Calum…” I let out the breathiest moan.
“Fuck, I’m going to—“
He thrusts almost violently against my back a few times then lets out a roar. I feel his cock twitch against my skin. A small wet spot soon spreads out between us. The sound of him finishing is somewhere between fascinating and terrifying, gratifying and sobering.
“Fuck me,” he says, chuckling against the bare skin of my shoulder. “That was…”
He trails off as I swallow and get up off of his lap. I’m not sure how to talk to him just now.
It’s not that I didn’t want him to… complete. It’s more that I don’t want him to expect it every time he comes to see me.
I’m not sure how to bring that up to him, so I busy myself taking off my ballet slippers instead.
He sprawls back against the leather booth, throwing a hand over his eyes. “I know that it’s frowned upon to come when you’re touching me.”
I set the slippers on the leather bench where he’s sitting, walking to my pair of heels. What am I supposed to say?
That I wanted him to come?
I did. But that doesn’t make it legal. It was prostitution, technically.
…right?
I slip on my heels without saying anything. He sits up, eyeing me. “Where were you trained, Cerise?”
I fumble with one of the straps to my heels. My heart starts beating loudly in my ears. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
He produces a shiny black card, holding it up as a present for me. When I stalk over to grab it, his free hand comes up and ensnares my wrist. “Yes, you do. It was somewhere good, I can tell you that much. Was it here in New York City?”