I take a steadying breath. “Do you ever think about what it would’ve been like if we’d met under difference circumstances? Like maybe if we met in New York instead of here? Or maybe you watched me dance at the ballet, instead of in a T-shirt and jean shorts?”
“I’m not good at make-believe, Cherry.”
That’s why I borrowed this place for tonight. I wanted to feel strong and feminine and capable.
The music is indescribably sexy.
The dance is one I’ve been working on in my head, some of my classical training and flexibility. I made it more provocative once I decided on my plan for tonight.
“I’m not a kid.”
I take a slow step toward him, and his eyes burn down my body.
“I know that.”
My feet stop out of reach of his chair. “You say you do, but you don’t. If this is going to work, I need you to.”
I peel the dress over my head. Underneath, I’m wearing a sheer black bra and thong. The bra has embroidered cherries over the nipples, and the thong has matching ones at the “T” in the back.
His eyes darken. “Olivia…”
A thrill races through me as I drop the fabric on the ground.
Velvet might not be the real world, but for tonight, it can be our world.
I shimmy in front of him, moving my hips slow and rhythmically.
When I lean in and lower the bra straps to my elbows, he starts breathing more heavily.
“Your tits are perfect.”
“Only my tits?”
He grins. “The rest of you is okay, too.”
I slide the bra down to my waist and his hungry gaze snaps down my body.
He leans forward, but I put the bra back in place. “No touching the dancers,” I murmur against his mouth, pulling back teasingly.
“You’re touching me.”
My skin heats everywhere, and I go deeper into the fantasy. “One of us is going to be in trouble. Because I’m in an exclusive relationship.”
“Relationship.”
That’s not what was supposed to come out.
“I meant arrangement.”
No feelings.
My own demand.
But the lines are blurry.
“I hope he fucks you for this,” he says, eyes wild, breath ragged. Then he takes my mouth in a kiss that’s just as rough as his voice.
I sink into his lips, because he’s the storm I want to lose myself in. I’d rather be swept away with this man than hide away in the safety of everything I know.
When he pulls back, I feel the hairs on my neck lift. I look past Sawyer toward the door.
“He’s watching,” I whisper. “The security guy.”
My skin prickles and I have a sudden urge to reach for my dress, but it’s halfway across the floor.
Sawyer’s body goes tight. “How does it make you feel?”
It’s like the audience the first night. Strangers’ eyes, with strangers’ minds behind them.
“I can end it in a second,” he promises. “But tell me how it makes you feel.”
I have no desire to be with another guy, to have him touch me, but feeling his gaze on me awakens an urge I’ve never experienced.
“Hot.”
Sawyer’s eyes darken. He looks past me toward the door. “Show’s over. I catch you watching again, you won’t be able to walk, not to mention work the door here or anywhere.”
The door closes immediately.
“If you were going to do that, then why did you ask?”
“Because I wanted you to trust me enough to tell me the truth. To keep you safe. That’s the greatest gift you could give me.”
Warmth erupts inside me, but there’s gooseflesh on my arms and neck. Every time I think I’m used to this raw, earnest man, he proves me wrong.
He circles my waist with his hands, palms warm and possessive on my bare skin.
I’m practically naked but I feel sheltered. Cared for. Seen.
“When was the last time you had a lap dance?” I breathe.
“If I’ve ever had one, I can’t remember it.”
“If you’ve ever had one, I’m going to erase it from your memory.”
I try to shift off his lap but he won’t let me.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Olivia,” he murmurs against my throat. “I see you. I want you. I care about you.”
Every muscle in me goes lax.
“Not how you dress. Or how you act. Or how you dance. I see who you are when you think no one’s paying attention. When you think the world is wrapped up in its own drama, and there’s no hope for any of them… I’m watching you.”
My heart seizes. I can’t look in his eyes right now or I’m going to lose it.
So instead I arch my back and rub against him.
He feels so good and eager and I think of how it would feel to have him inside me when the music reaches a crescendo.
He leans forward, grabbing my bra strap between his teeth and snapping it against my skin. “Take it off.”
“You want to add that to your collection, Professor?”
His eyes are hooded, hazy with lust as I reach back to unhook my bra one-handed.
I can hear his breath catch as my bra comes undone and I lower the straps.
I rub against him as I dance before him, getting myself off. I’m high on my power and the sex between us. It overwhelms me and he senses it.
“Take off the rest,” he says huskily.
“Be patient.”
“We’ll see who’s patient when I suck on your clit until you’re begging to come, sweetheart.”
Then his hands are on me, dragging me down to sit on him.
I slide my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. He props his hands on my thighs and I feel him groan against me.
“If I met you under difference circumstances, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“No?”
I hear Sawyer’s zipper come down as he opens his pants and pulls out his cock.
Fuck. He’s hard and he’s huge, and my throat dries looking at him in the dim lights.
“No,” he goes on. “Because in that world or this one, I’d still make you mine.”
Tonight, I wanted to prove I’m the kind of woman who can take care of herself.
He obliterated any need to.
I wanted a moment of reprieve from the stress of campus.
He showed me it’s not the minutes we have that matter, but how earnestly and unapologetically we use them.
I feel wild and free. Different from the girl who took the stage here months ago.
I skim my hands up my sides, lingering on my breasts in a way that makes his jaw work before threading up into my hair. “I want you to ride me until the sun comes up.”
He reaches into his pocket for something, then rolls the condom over his cock.
My hips settle over him as his nose bumps mine. “Nothing in the world I’d like more, Miss Barclay.”
It’s not gentle—he’s too worked up for that—but his hand grips my butt and he thrusts to meet me.
We’re in a primal rhythm, me rocking on his cock, and I cry out.
He kisses me and I buck against him and he comes with me.
His beautiful body jerks under my hips and my hands and I feel powerful. Fearless.
The song is dying, the spotlights waning, but we’re still joined and he’s rubbing me while I tremble.