StripperwithSpice (5 page)

My lips brush the skin of his neck, which is hot and buzzing
with a rapid pulse.
Oh crap. I’m lost. Lost!
I’ve lost complete control.

I lean into him until I’m literally in his lap.

“I want you, Carlos,” I say into his ear. “I want you so
much!”

The sensible part of my brain finally wakes up and resumes
control.
Get out now!
My stomach clenches into a tight ball and I quake
all over. Oh sure. Why not throw up on him? That would be sexy, wouldn’t it?

Pushing off his shoulders, I stumble to my feet. My heels
wobble as I struggle to keep my balance. Couldn’t I have worn flats? Confusion
and concern swirl on his face, but I can barely focus on it. He holds out a
hand as if to steady me.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” I mutter.

My heels clatter down the stage steps louder than gunshots.
It even drowns out the music. The nearest door is a million miles away. I
sprint toward it, wondering who’s staring at me. Not wanting to know.

Once I reach the lit corridor, I lean against the wall,
panting to catch my breath. A cramp seizes my left foot but I barely feel it.
Needing to get farther away, I hobble down the hallway toward the yawning
expanse of lobby. The last thing I want is an interrogation from Zena. Other
people pass by. Pairs of them lean against the wall, deep in private
conversation.

I’ve barely passed the cash bar when I hear rapid footsteps
behind me despite the thick carpet. Thinking I’m in someone’s way, I look back
to avoid getting run over. My throat clenches when I realize it’s Carlos.
Terrific. I don’t want him to ever lay eyes on me again. I’ve never made such a
fool of myself with any man, especially one over ten years younger than me.

I try to step out of his way but he follows me.

“Janice, wait!”

My eyebrows lift. What could he possibly want?

He takes my arm and draws me toward the wall under a cluster
of decorative lights and a painting of a stormy landscape. His warm touch
penetrates the black lace of my sleeve, stripping away the thin veneer of
control I had left.

“Are you okay?” he asks, dropping his hand. “You stormed out
so fast.”

Concern makes his eyes darker, I realize. Two black coals
burn my face.

“I’m sorry I made such a fool out of myself.” I move my gaze
to a safer place—the floral pattern in the carpet.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have
grabbed you like that. I couldn’t help myself.”

My brows knot into a big frown. Is he referring to touching
my hip? Why is that a bad thing? I shake my head, grasping for some logic. If I
can sit down and analyze complex spreadsheets, why can’t I figure this out?

Music and cheering, so faint it sounds a hundred miles away,
emanates from the ballroom.

“I didn’t mind.” I say, rubbing my forehead. “But I can’t
believe you came after me. Aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with the other
women?”

He grips my upper arms and looks at me with an intensity
that sets my insides on a slow sizzle.

“Right now all I’m worried about is you. I upset you
somehow.” He releases my arms and holds his hands out in front of him, palms
up. “How can I fix it?”

Hmm, I can think of a few ways. Whisk me off to Tahiti for a
week-long love fest? No, the plane ride would take too long. How about taking
me right now up against this wall? A warm, humid cloud forms in my belly.

“It’s all right, really,” I reply. “Please, just go. I
accept the fact that someone like you wouldn’t be interested in me.”

He cocks his head. “What makes you say that?”

“During the photo shoot, you weren’t— I mean, you didn’t—”

Damn Zena for asking me the question in the first place and
putting it into my head.

“Didn’t what?” he asks.

Didn’t get hard, you idiot.
But I can’t say something
like that out loud. When I glance at his crotch, though, understanding lights
up his face.

He grabs my hand. “Come here.”

The sensation of his strong, demanding fingers curled around
mine sends a roller-coaster thrill through my body. We just reached first base,
I realize. I focus on staying balanced on my heels as he pulls me. We rush down
the hall into a private alcove and then to a dim recess in front of a storage
closet.

Before I can blink, his fingers seize my wrists, which he
holds against the wall near my head, and Carlos—every glorious foot of him—is
pressed against my body. His rib cage swells against my breasts with deep,
rapid breaths—from dragging me down the hall, passion or both? A doorknob digs
into my back, but something else gets my attention.

He’s hard.
Very
hard.

The thin dress pants don’t leave much to the imagination.
Maybe I didn’t feel anything during the photo shoot because he wore thick
jeans.

His mouth descends on the side of my neck, slashing, hot and
wet.

“Is that hard enough for you, Janice?” he hisses into my
ear.

My knees buckle. If his body wasn’t pressing the length of
mine against the door, I’d collapse into a heap.

“Yes…” I whisper the word since I’ve lost the ability to
speak.

He fixes his gaze on mine until I’m pulled inside the dark
tunnels of his burning eyes. Every muscle in and around my mouth falls slack
while his moves closer. His lips feel even better than I imagined, soft and
strong at the same time. He teases me at first, nipping and tasting until I
ache all over. I taste him too, the tip of my tongue savoring the faint essence
of chocolate frosting.

My breath freezes when he draws back. It’s as if he’s
wondering whether or not he wants any more of me. When he leans close again for
a harder, longer kiss, my entire body shudders with need. I follow every
movement with my own body as he works my mouth with unpredictable twists and turns
that leave my heart pounding in my ears. Out of control, my face surges against
his as if I’m adrift in a pool of water.

Second base…

The hot apex of his tongue teases and withdraws, pulling a
moan from the depths of my soul. Luckily I suppress it before it escapes my
mouth and reveals to everyone nearby what we’re doing.

A cold wave of air hits me when he releases my wrists and
pulls back.

“Do you feel better now?” he asks.

Wait a minute. Didn’t he kiss me because he wanted me? Fake
passion would be worse than none at all. Because he broke the rules to do it,
he must want me.

Before I can look away, he grabs my chin and steadies my
face. “You’re still unhappy.”

“I’m fine,” I say through stiff lips that still tingle from
his kiss.

Every minute I spend with him turns me into a bigger and
bigger fool. I’ve got to get away from him once and for all.

“I can’t do more than this.” He touches his mouth to
indicate the hot kiss he gave me. “I’ve already broken the rules.”

I cross my arms. “You can drop the act now. I’ve had about
enough of this fake fantasy stuff.”

He tilts his hip and glances down. I can’t help looking down
too—at the abs begging to be touched, the low waistband riding his hips and the
bulge of cock I’d felt pressed against my weeping cunt just moments ago.

“Did that feel fake to you?”

Coughing, I clear my throat.
Well, no…

He sighs and runs a hand through the dark, glossy hair every
cell in my body longs to touch right now.

“Maybe I haven’t made myself clear,” he says. “I want you
too.”

When I study his face, I don’t see charm and seduction. I
see honesty and my own desire looking back at me.

“But you’re so much younger.”

He shrugs as if thirteen years is nothing. “I’ve wanted you
since I met you. During the photo shoot, I didn’t have to pick you up. I chose
to.”

“You did?”

The confusion in my mind morphs into something sweeter.
Something enticing. It’s as if today is the first day of spring after a long,
hard winter. Surely I’m dreaming this.

“I couldn’t even look at you after the shoot. And when you
put your mouth on my neck in there just now, I almost lost control and kissed
the hell out of you onstage.”

Giddy laughs spill out of me until I cover my mouth. I’m
determined to make a fool out of myself, aren’t I?

He looks around as if it finally dawned on him someone could
be watching us the whole time. “This is a good job I count on every year. I
don’t want to blow it by breaking the rules.”

I find a more comfortable position against the door. “What
are the rules, exactly?”

“We have to be careful not to do anything to offend the
women. Teasing is what it’s all about. Kissing and making passes are
off-limits.”

I take in this new information and process it. “When I first
got here, I was afraid it would be one big orgy.”

He shakes his head. “If it was, decent, upstanding women
like you wouldn’t come. A lot of these women are married with kids. This
weekend gives them a chance to cut loose a little without going too far.”

“That makes sense.” But where does that leave us?

While I frown, deep in thought, he takes my hand, patiently
stroking his thumb along my palm. That simple movement shuts off my thought
processes, so I pull my hand away.

“Okay, Carlos, you just said you want me. I’m very
flattered, but there are a lot of attractive single women here. Besides, you
probably have a girlfriend.”

Or even a wife? Please tell me I didn’t just rub myself all
over a married man.

He shakes his head. “No. I only want you and I don’t have a
girlfriend right now.”

“So what is it about me?” I ask. “We don’t exactly have a
lot in common.”

He puts his arm around me and smiles. “You like to analyze
everything, don’t you?”

“It’s my job,” I reply with a grin.

“Really? What do you do?”

“I’m a financial analyst at a company called Trendler
Trust.”

“Sounds impressive,” he replies. “Do you like it?”

My mouth opens and closes again. Why is this such a
difficult question for me?

“It pays the bills.”

Softer than butterfly feet, the fingers of his other hand
trace my cheek. “I’m not sure what draws me to you, Janice, but it’s strong. You’ve
been through something recently.”

A wall slams down with a bang inside my head. “How did you
know?”

He shrugs, drawing me closer to the side of his warm, strong
body. The feeling I had during the photo shoot drifts over me again.

“I felt so safe when you lifted me in your arms during the
shoot,” I blurt out.

“You are safe. Whatever you went through, it’s all right
now.”

Boy, do I feel ridiculous. A much younger guy is making me
feel dependent on him. Granted, he probably makes as much or more money right
now than I do. For a moment, I let myself close my eyes and revel in the feel
of this mysterious—and now caring—man next to me. I like it. What I like even
more is how he communicates understanding without words and doesn’t ask me a
bunch of nosy questions.

He finally drops his arm. “I’d better get back to work
before they fire me. I’ll see you around?”

“Sure.”

See you around.
What does that mean? Is he blowing me
off? We seem to share something pretty genuine. Okay, so maybe I am his
favorite woman this weekend, but tomorrow is Sunday. Come Monday, I’m sure
he’ll forget I ever existed.

But I’ll never forget him. He gave me a gift I didn’t expect
when I signed up for this event. It’ll have to be enough.

After returning to my room, I stand in front of the mirror
and stare at myself.

He sees something in me.

I do look different. My lips are a little swollen from his
kiss and my eyes are luminous with passion. The kiss… It replays in my mind a
hundred times.

Did our little hallway tryst really happen? Catching the
scent of mesquite, I know it has. Grabbing a hank of my shoulder-length hair, I
pull it toward my nose and inhale his essence. It goes straight to the
primitive part of my brain, awakening desires so powerful they rush through my
blood with violent force.

I want more, damn it! One kiss from a hot man is more
frustrating than eating one potato chip. I can’t stop now. It’s unfair of him
to expect me to.

Without taking my eyes off the mirror, I strip off my
clothes and drop them on the floor. The old Janice would never do such a thing.
She’d hang them carefully on the closet hangers instead. The old Janice isn’t
here anymore, but who am I?

Watching myself in the sexy bra and panties, I imagine
Carlos running his strong, tan hands over them and removing them. I fumble in
the nearby gift bag for the magic egg. My fingers brush across the circular
ridge of a condom packet until I find what I’m looking for. The box holding the
egg opens in my insistent grip.

At last, I have it. The old Janice would wash and disinfect
this thing before letting it touch her body. There’s no time. Desire has
constricted the entire lower half of me into a vise that must be released.

I take the egg to the luxurious bed and lie down. It’s as if
he’s here with me. Otherwise I wouldn’t do this and the big bed would feel as
empty as it did the day before. Sweeping a hand into each plunging cup of my
bra, I check the hardness of my nipples. They’re already as swollen as they can
possibly be, so I don’t waste any more time with them. Instead I imagine Carlos
taking one into his mouth and laving it slowly with his tongue. The thought of
it arches my back almost to the breaking point.

Half sitting against the bank of pillows at the headboard so
I can watch my unrecognizably swollen cunt, I pull aside my drenched thong with
one finger. This part of my body is also way past the need for preliminaries.
As soon as the egg touches my clit, stimulating me to the bone, I lose control
of my entire body, whimpering his name a little too loud.

With my eyes closed, I imagine the pulsing point is his
finger, tongue and cock all at the same time. In minutes, powerful waves slam
into me. I’m exploding so hard I drop the egg and collapse against the pillows.

I fall from the dizzying heights of nirvana so fast my sighs
of pleasure turn to tears. Squeezing the nearest pillow hard enough to knock
the stuffing out, I curse him.

“Damn you, Carlos. Why did you have to pay attention to me
when we both know I’ll never have you? Why? You should have left me alone.”

* * * * *

The next afternoon, everyone sits inside the familiar
ballroom eating a farewell lunch of pizza with assorted toppings. With all the
lights on, the room looks much different than it did last night. Did I really
give a clumsy lap dance on that stage last night? That I could almost believe.
Being tracked down and kissed by Carlos? Not possible.

I’m all too aware of my swollen, tender pussy as I cross my
legs. It’s been this way the entire weekend. I awoke this morning from a steamy
dream that left my nightgown clinging to my body. Need I mention who starred in
it?

Carlos had me up to the wall again, but this time he didn’t
stop at pressing himself against me. He tugged off my pants, lifted me, pulled
my thighs around his waist and speared me with his hardness. At the moment
between waking and sleeping, my womb clamped my entire body in a powerful
orgasm.

I hope this restless longing subsides when I return to my
normal life. My mind is a box of jigsaw pieces. I’ll never be able to do my job
in this frame of mind.

“Earth calling Janice.” I finally notice Zena is waving a
slice of pizza in front of my face. “What happened last night? You ran offstage
and disappeared.”

“We worried.” Hurt and reproach fills Dorothy’s voice as if
she’s speaking to a runaway child.

I can’t tell them. They’ll ask a million questions. A blush
I hope they don’t notice steals across my face.

Zena points at me and chortles. “You got lucky last night.”

“Carlos came after me because I was upset. He just kissed me,
and I don’t mean on the cheek,” I state.

“Oh, how romantic!” Dorothy exclaims.

“Was he hard?” Zena asks.

I slam down my glass of tea. “Yes, he was hard, damn it.
Harder than a steel beam. Are you happy now?”

Zena shrinks in her chair. “Okay. Okay. Excuse me for
living.”

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“So are you two going to hook up?”

Hook up? What does that mean? Screw? Date? Have a
relationship? None of those choices is too likely.

I cross my arms. “I don’t think so. I’m just flattered he
paid special attention to me. That’s all there is to it.”

Dorothy cuts her pizza slice with a fork. “I wish Rolf would
try to kiss me. It would have to be on my cheek, of course, because I’m
married, but it would be fun.”

The men file in and mingle with the women. Today they wear jeans
with skimpy tiger-striped vests that show plenty of muscular flesh. Each also
wears a leather necklace that reminds me of an animal collar. I can’t help
noting the outfits harmonize with the gold blouse I wore again.

Zena bounces in her seat. “I can’t wait until the raffle.
Dorothy, do you realize one of us could get to spend two hours with Rolf?”

The older woman smiles. “I’m sure you’d be a much better
date for him than I would.”

“What if one of us wins Carlos or Janice wins Rolf?” Zena’s
wild hand movement almost upsets her glass of tea. She’s obviously had more
than enough caffeine today. “We have to promise each other to swap if
necessary.”

Dorothy scratches her chin. “Do you think that’s allowed?”

“Sure. We’ve also got to meet for a drink this afternoon,
especially if one of you wins a man,” Zena goes on. “I want all the gory
details of what you do on your date.”

“Demanding little thing, isn’t she?” Dorothy asks me.

We do a group handshake. When I look up, I see Carlos for
the first time since last night. From across the room, he flashes me a brief
smile but doesn’t approach our table. Instead he talks to a couple of other
women.

I can’t drag my gaze away as I watch him talk, smile and
laugh. Cactus needles of irritation prickle under my shirt collar when he bends
down to hug a woman a little too long as she sits in her chair.

Is he just being friendly or is she his new flavor of the
day? Why didn’t I drive home last night while I was ahead? Now that I’ve been
his center of attention, I don’t want to give it up. To distract myself, I try
to think about the autographed novels, signed by my favorite authors, I bought
at this morning’s book signing.

When we’re finished with our pizza, he finally walks to our
table with Rolf. I shake my head as Zena and Dorothy grab one arm each and
literally pet him as if he’s a dog. Please tell me I never looked that pathetic
with Carlos.

“How’s it going, Janice?” he asks me.

Do you really want to know? Let’s see, I used a sex toy on
myself last night because you made me so hot and I burst into tears because I
want you so much. Then I had a hot dream about you that’ll never come true.

Why give him the satisfaction?

Instead I shrug and peer at my watch. “I’m ready to go home.
I have a ton of work to catch up on.”

He stands several feet away and even has his hands in his
pockets as if I have the plague. He sure got sick of me fast enough.

“Don’t leave until after the raffle, okay?”

I look down at the orange raffle ticket beside my plate. One
of the organizers gave them out to each of us as we entered the ballroom today.
Why not torture myself more by seeing some other woman win two hours of time
with him?

Maybe it’ll help me forget him.

I cross my arms and the men head to the stage. In minutes,
the lights dim and the raffle begins. The announcer plays it up as the grand
finale event. Now I really wish I had earplugs so I don’t have to listen. The
men do a little dance onstage. As usual, I can’t look at anyone but Carlos.
Every swivel of his body reminds me of how perfect it felt against mine in the
hall.

After the dance, the other two men stand in a row in the
background while Rolf and Carlos go to the front of the stage. They stand with
their legs spread and their hands on their hips.

“These two men have generously agreed to give two-hour
fantasy dates to two lucky women,” the announcer says. “Ladies, what’s your
favorite number?”

“Two!” the crowd yells back.

“They’ll be as chivalrous and charming as a romance hero,”
the woman continues in her smooth voice. “But they must be back here in two
hours for our staff meeting or they’ll turn into pumpkins. Are you ladies ready
to get started?”

The room fills with the most deafening shouting yet.

Come on. Let’s get this over with so I can go home. I’ll
have to give Zena a raincheck on her drink. I won’t be able to stand the sight
of this building after some other woman wins two hours with my man.

“First up is Rolf.” The announcer leaves her podium to stand
next to him as if she’s a game show host again. “Doesn’t he remind you of a
virile Viking warrior?”

The audience hoots as if goosed.

“I bet he has a nice big one,” Zena whispers as she clutches
Dorothy’s arm.

With a hip-swiveling stride, Cochise brings the announcer a
large glass bowl of orange tickets. My stomach lurches when I realize my ticket
is in there somewhere. To add to the anticipation, Rolf bows and blows a kiss
toward the audience as a drum beats offstage.

The announcer holds the bowl to Rolf. “Will you do the
honors? Pick your lucky date.”

Closing his eyes, the big man reaches into the bowl,
fingering what appears to be every single ticket in there.

“Ooh, look at how he uses his fingers,” Zena says.

Dorothy jerks in her seat. “I got a chill. I think he just
touched my ticket.”

A band of tension wraps around my forehead. Enough with the
theatrics already. When will this stupid event be over so I can go home?

At last, Rolf pulls out a ticket and opens his eyes. The
organizer grabs it and reads off the number.

“Crap!” Zena exclaims. “It’s one digit off. Wait a minute.
That means one of you might have it.”

I look at my ticket, relieved the number doesn’t match.

Dorothy squints at her ticket. “Drat. It’s so dark in here I
can’t see it. I think I need new glasses.”

Zena grabs it and jumps out of her chair. “We won! We won! I
mean, she won.”

The room erupts with applause. Dorothy pales in the dim
light as if she’s in shock.

“Don’t be shy,” the announcer says. “Will the lucky winner
please come forward?”

“I’ll take him if she doesn’t,” someone yells from the side
of the room.

“You won.” Zena shakes Dorothy’s arm. “Get up there. Ask him
if he’ll do a one-hour date with each of us.”

“O-okay…”

Dorothy staggers out of her chair as if she’s a hundred
years old and hasn’t walked for the past ten. Zena pushes her in the middle of
the back to propel her toward the stage. When Dorothy finally arrives, the
organizer verifies her ticket number. Rolf gestures her to come onstage by
repeatedly crooking his finger. When she finally does, he pulls her into a hug.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” he says in his booming voice.
“The afternoon is all ours.”

The organizer points to her watch. “The clock is ticking.
Now scoot and enjoy every minute.”

My heart pulses in slow, heavy waves when Rolf and Dorothy
exit the stage, leaving Carlos front and center.

“And now we have Carlos, our second sexy man. Who wants to
date him?”

“Me!” a hundred voices shout at once. Mine is not among
them, but the word screams inside my mind.

“Only one of you can date him.” The organizer holds the
fishbowl toward him. “Now who’s it going to be?”

With a serious face, he looks out at the audience. Even
though he’s far away, his dark gaze hits me with the force of an arrow between
the eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s looking at me and only me.

As Rolf did, he closes his eyes and digs through the
tickets. I should close my eyes too. When I see the woman who wins, I’ll
picture them together and it will consume me with jealousy.

When the announcer reads the number he selects, I barely
hear it because so much blood roars through my ears. My hand shakes as I hold
up the ticket and my brain repeats each number.

Zena looks at me. “Well?”

I stand, almost knocking down my chair. “I won.”

The announcer holds a hand to her ear. “Speak up, honey.
Claim your man.”

Oh my freaking God! I won! I won a one-on-one date with Carlos!
For two hours!
I must look even more shocked than Dorothy had.

“We should’ve sat at that table,” someone yells.

Zena pushes me toward the stage too. “Remember the details.
I want to hear all about it afterward.”

Luckily I had the sense to wear flats today. My body
trembles so hard I can hardly walk. As I approach the stage, Carlos’ smile is
brighter than the sun with a few solar flares thrown in. Like Rolf, he’s a good
showman when he decides to be. I’m almost convinced he really wanted me to win.

As soon as I get onstage, he gives me a crushing hug and
grips my hand so hard it hurts.
Down, boy.
This must be part of the
fantasy act.

“You look pleased, Carlos,” the announcer comments.