Music of the Heart (Runaway Train #1)(20)
I stared at Brayden in shock. I’d never heard him speak so passionately about sex with Lily. He usually was very guarded and threatened to kick our asses when we alluded to anything involving them getting it on. His favorite thing to do was to growl, “That’s my wife, f**ker!” or “That’s the mother of my children!” when we made dickhead comments about Lily being a MILF.
“Wow,” Abby murmured at Bray’s statement.
He grinned at her. “Sorry, I got a little carried away there.”
She shook her head. “No, I appreciated it, and I’m sure Lily would, too.”
I exhaled noisily. “Regardless of what you three dickwads say, I hold firm to my claim that I wouldn’t or couldn’t get it up for a virgin.” When Abby cocked her head at me, I said, “Fine then. I couldn’t knowingly, how’s that?”
She bit down on her lip and turned her head from me. The table fell into an awkward silence before Abby muttered, “Um, I’ll be right back.” She practically fell out of her chair and sprinted from the table.
After downing the rest of my beer, I glanced up to see the guys glaring at me. “What?”
Brayden leaned forward so far across the table that his elbows bumped into mine. “You’re an utter and complete ass**le for hurting her feelings about the virgin thing.”
“I’m a dick for telling the truth?”
AJ snorted contemptuously at me. “It’s called a f**king filter, man. Try using it from time to time.”
When I glanced at Rhys, he narrowed his eyes. “So not cool to make Abby feel bad about herself, especially when she’s as smoking hot as she is.”
I opened my mouth to argue when the screech of the karaoke microphone being tapped drew my attention to the stage. Gazing out at us, Abby gave me a sickeningly, sweet smile. Immediately my stomach churned, and I knew I was in trouble at being publically called out for being a douchebag.
“I hope you all don’t mind me singing again.”
The scattered group of truckers whistled and hooted appreciatively, which caused Abby to grin and breathlessly say, “Thank you.” Gripping the microphone tighter, she said, “It’s just that I really would like to win a bet tonight, and singing this song is the only way I see being able to do it.” Once again her blue eyes locked with mine. “Jake, this one is for you.”
She nodded at the DJ who pressed the play button on the music. It took all of two seconds for me to recognize the opening bass thumps. “Oh f**k,” I murmured as Like a Virgin began blaring throughout the bar. As soon as some of the inebriated truckers realized the song, they hollered and clapped their hands.
From the minute she started singing, it was like Abby sent a direct beam of lust straight to me. I mean, I knew I put on an act when I was on stage, so the fact she was a performer should have made her behavior less believable. But damn was she convincing as a temptress. Every shimmy and shake of her luscious body, every time she tossed her head back and ran her fingers through her hair, every slinky step she took and thrust of her h*ps was driving me f**king insane.
If I thought I was stunned, the other guys were open-mouthed and wide-eyed at her performance. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught AJ gulping down his beer like a man dying of thirst. Even Brayden was eying Abby in a way I hadn’t seen in years—although it was a helluva lot more innocent than how AJ, Rhys, and I were ogling.
Shifting in my seat, I knew it wasn’t going to be long before I lost the bet. I glanced down and glared at my traitorous dick. When I peeked up at Abby again, a pained noise escaped my lips as all hell broke loose below my belt with what I saw. Sinking down to her knees, she then began doing the unthinkable. She started crawling towards the end of the stage—never missing a beat or lyric. Sitting below her, I had a straight shot down the front of her dress with an epic view at her fabulous rack. When she reached the end of the stage, she swung her legs around, and for a brief moment, I got a flash of her upper thighs before she let her legs dangle off the edge.
She hopped down and slunk over to our table. Without a glance at the other guys, she gave me a seductive crook of her finger. I shook my head and grinned, trying to make her believe she was having no effect on me, which was a f**king lie. But Abby wasn’t having any of it. She strode over to me as she ran her hand over her h*ps and ass as she sang about being touched for the first time. Her fingers then slid through my hair and across to cup my cheek before playfully smacking it.
Just when I thought she was headed back to the stage, she backed up and straddled me. A hiss escaped my lips as she started moving her ass across my crotch. I couldn’t help throwing my head back and groaning. I’d been given expert lap dances in my day from some of the highest paid strippers in the business. Abby was clumsy and didn’t know exactly how to ride me to give my dick the most pleasure, but damn, if I couldn’t feel her hot, little center burning through my jeans. I had been at half-mast before, but I figured at any minute with her moaning the oohing and aahing parts of the song I would be busting out of my zipper.
Even in her non-existent experience, she knew what was up, no pun intended. With the song still playing, Abby glanced over her shoulder and shot me a triumphant look. “Do you now concede to all the guys that you knowingly and willingly got it up for a virgin, or should I continue?”
Although my dick would have enjoyed her continuing the half-hearted attempt at a lap dance, I shook my head. “Okay, Angel, you win.”