“Watching?”
He paused, and—shit—his intense look trapped me in place. “Being watched?”
This question was too hard to answer while looking at him, and my gaze fell to the glass tabletop. Even there, I saw his muted reflection watching me. He was so good looking, it wasn’t fair.
“Maybe,” I said. “I’m not shy.”
Had he been holding his breath? His chest rose and fell like he’d let out a deep breath. “No, you’re not.”
I lifted both my gaze and my shoulder. “I’ll try anything once.”
“Is that so?” Electricity crackled between us, and it intensified as his attention swung to the window. “Prove it.”
Oh, Jesus. My mouth went dry and my voice faltered, even as I wanted it to sound strong. “How?”
“She seems to like you. Why don’t you go to the window and give her a kiss?”
I nearly laughed with delight. It wasn’t just easy and safe—it was sexy too. “Okay.”
The woman watched me with interest as I stood and sauntered toward the window, and a smile grew on her lips as I closed in. When I put my hands on the glass, she followed suit, placing her hands on the other side right where mine were. Like we were touching.
I leaned forward and planted my lips against the glass, leaving behind the faintest stain of lipstick. As soon as I drew back, she eagerly leaned forward, parted her lips, and dragged the flat of her tongue over the spot. It was as if she wanted to lick up my kiss, and it was erotic. I turned to see what Clay thought about it, only to find him standing beside me.
His fingertips glided across my bare shoulder as he moved to cup the back of my neck with a hand. He didn’t speak, but I swallowed thickly. This simple action of his hand on me felt possessive and controlling, and God, did I like it.
His voice was quiet but powerful. “That was my fault. I wasn’t specific about where I wanted you to kiss her.”
“What?”
The dominating hand on me began to press down. “On your knees.”
Fuck. Was it possible to shiver from heat? Because that was exactly what I did.
Clay urged me down to kneel in front of the window. The couple on the other side hadn’t slowed down. If anything, my participation had turned them on even more. The man’s thrusts were relentless, making her tits jiggle and bounce violently.
My knees abraded on the stubby carpet as I stared up at Clay, awaiting his instruction, and watched his lips part to take in a breath. Having me on my knees and under his command was so satisfying to him, for a moment he looked overwhelmed. But he blinked away his haziness and leaned over me, bringing his mouth right against the shell of my ear.
As he spoke, his hot breath brushed against the sensitized skin of my neck. “I want to watch you lick her pussy.”
There was a power that took hold of me when he issued his command. It was a need I didn’t know existed until he put it into words, and now it was real and living. There was no indecision or questioning if I wanted this. He wanted it, so now I did too.
I pressed my palms to the glass, tipped my forehead to the cool pane, and waited. It announced to the couple what I needed, and as soon as they realized, the man shoved her forward. Her hips and the delta of her thick thighs pushed to the window.
I’d kissed a girl once when I was in college at a house party. The upside-down margaritas had been flowing freely, and someone had dared us to do it. Maybe she’d been the one who’d dared me . . . the night was fuzzy. I remembered the kiss as being nice but not earth-shattering. Kissing girls wasn’t any different than kissing boys, I’d discovered.
And for as curious as I was in life, it was surprising I wasn’t more than mildly curious when it came to women. I’d always been far more attracted to men. And I was certainly interested in this self-proclaimed complicated man whose demand made me shudder in excitement.
Following his order would be easy, and I wondered if it was possible the simulated sex would be even hotter than the real thing. I tilted my head, opened my mouth, and slicked my tongue across the glass, right over her neatly trimmed landing strip.
“Fuck,” Clay groaned appreciatively. “Again.”
Satisfaction washed down me in waves. I did as asked, dragging my tongue along the smooth glass that was damp and smudged from my first pass.
“Look at you,” he said, “being such a good girl now. I think you should stand up and show her what happened when you weren’t.”
He extended a hand to help me up, and I took it. “You want me to—”
“Show her the marks your bad behavior earned you earlier today.”
It was intoxicating being with him, and exhilaration simmered in my blood, like I was high. As soon as I was on my feet, I turned around, bent slightly at the waist, and lifted the back of my skirt.
Cool air drift over my exposed cheeks. I’d worn a thong tonight, not just to prevent panty lines, but to avoid putting anything over my irritated skin. As soon as his handiwork came into view, Clay let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. Like I’d done earlier, I wiggled my hips, showing off my ass, and that earned me a spanking.
It wasn’t mean or harsh—it was playful, and I nearly giggled.
There was a dull bang that came from the window, and although the woman had probably raised her voice, it sounded muted. “Join us!”
But Clay shook his head, pointed to the nearly empty glass in his hand, and then gestured toward the main room, telling them we were going to get fresh drinks.
“The show’s going to start soon,” he said as we made our way back to the bar. “We should get in there if you want a seat.”
A quick glance revealed Clay’s friend was gone, which was disappointing on several levels, but I tried not to show it. I brushed a lock of hair over my shoulder. “What’s it going to be like?”
“The show?” His smile was cryptic. “It’ll be interesting. I think you’ll like it.”
There were only a few seats left by the time we stepped into the red room, and Clay urged me down into the first available chair while I was distracted by what was on the center of the floor.
Or more appropriately, who.
The girl looked like she was in her early twenties. She had her dirty blonde hair twisted back into a bun, and that along with her slender frame made me think of her as a ballerina. She was pretty in both her face and her body, and colorful artwork was scrawled all over her skin. I could tell because she was completely nude.
The girl had a lot of ink, plus a piercing in each nipple. She was lying on the floor, and as she took in a breath, the studs glinted faintly beneath the latex blanket covering her that was so thin it was nearly transparent. It was strange. The blanket was draped over a rectangular frame that surrounded her and the latex cinched around her neck in a thick black collar.
I’d just gotten settled in my seat when a woman dressed in black stepped forward, and every conversation in the room ceased. She was probably already naturally tall, but the huge platform on her stiletto boots exaggerated her towering height. Her shiny ‘wet look’ bodysuit hugged her gorgeous figure, accentuating her in the right places. The woman was statuesque and incredibly beautiful.