Riding on Instinct
Page 16

He slid his hand under her hair and massaged her neck. She seized up at first, but the more he rubbed, the more her shoulders relaxed. She kept her focus on the dancers, and he continued to gently work the muscles of her neck.
Her hair fell over his arm like a silk waterfall. Touching her made his dick hard. Hell, everything about her made his dick hard. He gave up on the thought of keeping this impersonal. Being next to her, drawing in her scent, and touching her were going to give him an erection and there wasn’t much he could do about it. Since the bodyguard-and-boyfriend cover allowed him to touch her, he could get hard and no one would think anything of it. It worked for their assignment and hey, it was a bonus for him.
Though the hard-on was damned uncomfortable, and being turned on made his mind wander. Like thinking about bending her over the barstool, pulling down her jeans, and thrusting into her until he came. Or laying her on her back across one of the tables and licking her sweet pu**y until she had a wild orgasm, then f**king her until they both came.
None of those thoughts helped tamp down his raging libido. He needed to start paying attention to what was going on around him. He searched the club. It was crowded already, so he scanned faces. He might not have a photographic memory like Shadoe, but he had a good recall for people he’d just met the night before. Brandon, the owner, was nowhere in sight—probably in his office if he was on the premises at all. He’d remembered the guys in the front when they’d walked in, so they were the same ones from last night. He hadn’t caught sight of the bouncers yet. Only two dancers had been on so far, and they weren’t repeaters from the night before.
He tunneled his fingers into Shadoe’s scalp and gently rubbed there, then signaled the bartender two fingers. He slid across two more shots. Spence handed one to Shadoe.
“You keep feeding me drinks and rubbing my head like that and one of two things is going to happen.”
He downed the shot and laid the glass on the bar. “Yeah? What two things?”
“I’m either going to fall asleep or have an orgasm.”
He grinned and watched her shoot the tequila. “I vote for the orgasm.”
She took a deep inhale, then let it out, shuddering. “I could use one. It would relax me more than the tequila, though the massage is helping a lot.”
He leaned into her, laid his hand on her upper thigh, and squeezed. “I can make you come.”
Her gaze shot to his. “Here? I don’t think so.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
She laughed and shook her head. “I have a great sense of adventure, but this is not the place.”
She had no idea. Anyplace could be the right place, given a good imagination. He had a really good imagination.
“I need to get back there and get ready, meet the girls.”
He nodded, already formulating a plan. “Okay.”
She slid off the barstool and disappeared through the double doors leading into the dressing area.
He’d give her a half-hour. Then he was going to find her and take care of her.
After all, it was his job to make sure she was relaxed before she went on stage.
Or at least distracted enough that she wasn’t tense.
He grinned and ordered another shot of tequila.
BACKSTAGE WAS A BUSTLE OF ESTROGEN, NOISY WITH LOTS OF women talking, and mostly in various stages of undress. If Shadoe had any reservations about hanging out na**d with other women, she was going to have to get over that phobia in a hurry. Fortunately, she’d gotten past that a long time ago in private school, where community showers were required, and she’d never been the modest type anyway.
Ariele was there, along with two dozen other women of various shapes, sizes, and colors. They were packed into the dressing area like sardines, reminding her again of college. But there was laughter and yelling and squealing as everyone caught up on gossip and some argued, while others chatted one-on-one in whatever corner they could find. Some of the girls even had their boyfriends in there. No one bothered to care about that. Others were on the phone chatting up a storm.
Some were friendly, like Elan, a petite mocha-skinned beauty with a quiet elegance and an incredible French accent. She had mesmerizing doe eyes and full lips that men no doubt fell in love with.
Spitfire was a perfect name for the fiery redhead with pale skin and huge breasts. A bundle of energy and nonstop talker, her green eyes flashed with life. She talked so fast Shadoe understood only half of what she said. She was incredibly exuberant and obviously the welcoming committee of the bunch.
Star was a cool raven-haired beauty with gray eyes that seemed to always assess. She didn’t say much, wasn’t exactly unfriendly, just wasn’t overly social either. She nodded when Shadoe introduced herself. Shadoe noticed she didn’t seem to be chatty with any of the other girls. She sat at her table putting on her makeup and kept to herself. Maybe she was shy; maybe it was just her personality. Could be something else, but people who weren’t friendly weren’t to be trusted, at least in Shadoe’s opinion. She’d have to keep her eye on Star.
“So you’re the new girl.”
As Shadoe sat at her makeup table to do her face, she looked up into the eyes of a very tall, gorgeous blonde with big blue eyes and a knockout figure. “Yes, I’m Desi.”
“I’m Cheri, and I’m the lead here. We’ll see what kind of headliner you are.”
“Quit being such a bitch, Cheri,” Ariele said, moving over to stand next to Shadoe. “Can’t you just welcome Desi?”
Cheri lifted her chin and glared at Ariele. “I just did, didn’t I?”
Cheri walked away and Ariele flipped her off. “Cow.” She turned to Shadoe. “Don’t pay any attention to her. She thinks she’s hot shit and has delusions of being a headliner.” Ariele leaned in to whisper, “Which will never happen, because she has about as much sex appeal as stale bread. Wait till you catch her act.”
A dancer with a chip on her shoulder, and she already hated Shadoe? Great. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
Ariele patted her shoulder, then went off to get ready for her act. Shadoe was pretty much ready other than getting dressed, and she had an hour to kill before she went on. She could throw on a robe and hang out at the doorway to watch the other dancers, get a feel for their rhythm.
That might help relax her. If they could do it, she could, too.
She didn’t know why she was so tense tonight. It wasn’t the first night she’d stripped. She’d done it in Dallas to a large crowd and hadn’t thought much of it at all.
Then again, maybe that’s because back in Dallas she’d just thrown herself on the stage without thinking about what she was doing.
She’d had plenty of time to think about it since, and she had the added pressure of the case now, of watching for the rogue agent. Plus, AJ and Pax were out there watching.
Which really should be no different from Spence seeing her strip, right?
Who was she kidding? It was different. Tonight, everything was. She grabbed a robe and tied the sash, then slid out the door and down the hall. The blaring music pounded in her temples and jacked up her already haywire nervous system. The hallway was pitch-dark and she had to feel the wall to make her way toward the light at the entrance to the doorway. She intended to linger there and peek at the dancers, hopefully gain some courage that way, but she crashed into something huge and immobile. It took her only a second to realize she’d run into a large, hard body, definitely male.
“Sorry,” she said, trying to focus in the darkness on the face of whoever she’d run into.
“No need to be sorry.”
“Spence. What are you doing back here?” She pivoted, certain someone was going to come rushing up to them and bust them, but she didn’t know why she was so nervous. Some of the other girls had their boyfriends in the dressing room. Spence in the hallway was no big deal. After all, he was her bodyguard and her boyfriend—at least that’s what everyone was supposed to believe. He had every right to be back here.
“Just came to check on you.”
“I’m fine. Get back out there.”
Instead, he pulled her against his chest. “Coming out to take a peek?”
“I was.” She pulled the robe sash tighter around her.
“Then let’s go take a look.”
“I don’t think—”
He didn’t give her time to finish her sentence, but instead wrapped his arm around her middle and walked her toward the doors, then stepped back to the corner. There, she could watch the dancers but the corner was recessed so they were out of the swinging doorway.
“This is a good spot.”
“I guess so.” He hadn’t let go of her. He was so big, his body pressed up against her. She felt him everywhere, and she was na**d underneath her robe. His fingertips rested just under her left breast where he no doubt felt the rapid thumping of her heart.
“Relax, Desi,” he whispered in her ear. “Just watch and let me take care of you.”
Take care of her. What did he—
He moved his hand upward, sliding it inside her robe to cup her breast. Her breath caught and for only a fraction of a second she thought about darting away. But it was dark here and even the other girls wouldn’t see them. They used a different door to enter and exit the stage.
Her lips parted as she fought for breath. The thought of being caught was both mortifying and tantalizing as Spence slid the pad of his thumb across her nipple. His breath, hot and tinged with the scent of tequila, sailed across her cheek. She felt the hard ridge of his c**k as it grew more insistent against her hip.
“I’ve thought about you all day, and tonight,” he whispered against her ear. “About leaning you over one of those barstools out there and f**king you from behind. Or laying you across the table and eating your pu**y until you scream.”
Her legs trembled as she picked up images of him doing those things to her. She wanted that, wanted him to take her in so many different ways. Her ni**les tightened, tingled with need as he flicked one with his fingers, then rolled it, pinched it.
“Do you like to have your ni**les sucked, Shadoe?”
“Yes.”
“Soft and gentle, or harder?”
“Hard.” She could barely speak. Her throat had gone dry, but between her legs, she was wet. So wet.
Spence parted her robe and slid his hand across her hip. She shuddered at the contact of his palm on her skin.
“Shhh, relax, baby. I’m going to make you come. I’m going to touch your pussy, pet your clit, and shove my fingers inside you until you come for me.”
Oh, God. He really meant to do that, didn’t he? “Spence, I . . . I have to . . .”
“You don’t have to do anything but relax and let me take care of you.”
He gripped her hip, pushed against her, let her feel his cock. She remembered last night, how it felt inside her, filling her, and oh, she wanted that again. She wanted him again, in so many different ways. But this . . . this was erotic, naughty. Anyone could come through those doors, including Brandon. What would he think? Would she be fired?
Her cl*tquivered. The thrill of the forbidden.
“Do it,” she begged. “Make me come, Spence.”
It wouldn’t take long. She was already on the verge and he hadn’t touched her there yet.
When he did, when he cupped her sex with his huge, calloused hand, she arched against him, rocking her pu**y toward his hand.
“Yeah, that’s what I like, Shadoe,” he whispered, abandoning her stage name. She loved hearing him say her name, loved the way he slid his palm across her na**d sex.
“I can smell you. When you go out there tonight, when you shake your pretty cunt in front of all those guys, they’ll be able to smell it, too, and know you’re mine. They’re going to want you, to want to f**k you, but only I’m going to f**k you.”
She reached up and twined her arm around the back of his head. “Yes. Only you.”
He slid two fingers inside her and she rose on her tiptoes, needing more, needing him deeper.
“You are so wet, Shadoe. So hot and tight. I want my dick inside you.”
“Spence.” She wanted that, too.
“Later tonight I’m going to f**k you hard until I come.”
She closed her eyes, oblivious now to anything but the pleasure he gave her, his fingers stroking her hard and fast toward an orgasm she craved more than the air she breathed. And when it hit, she shrieked, the sound muffled by the loud music beyond the doors. Her pu**y gripped his fingers in a tight vise as she rode a blasting cl**ax that left her shaking and disoriented.
It was Spence who withdrew, turned her around and pulled her robe together, then tilted her chin back and kissed her. “Now go get dressed and relax. And remember, you’re mine to f**k later.”
She shuddered at the powerful confidence in his voice, her mind awash in visuals of the two of them alone later.
She already wished it was later.
She nodded and walked on unsteady legs back to the dressing room, wondering if it showed on her face when she went through the doors.
No one paid any attention to her, fortunately. She cleaned up and fixed her hair and makeup, then grabbed a bottle of water and took a couple long swallows before letting out a very satisfied breath.
Wow. Spence was a genius. She wasn’t only relaxed now, she was a quivering pile of Jell-O. Tension gone. She smiled and went to grab her costume, ready to take on her job as headliner.
ELEVEN
BY THE TIME SPENCE FOUND A SPOT TO STAND NEAR THE STAGE, the club was jammed solid. He even recognized a few of the guys from the docks today.
Good. Shadoe would be happy to know her efforts hadn’t been wasted.