Night Owl(23)

"You're crazy," I said as he paid our cover.

He smirked down at me. Uh-oh. I recognized that smirk.

One hundred percent trouble.

Inside, the club was surprisingly busy. I couldn't think over the music. The lighting was garish, red and yellow. A beaded curtain hung in front of some booths and there were red velvet chairs arranged beside a stage.

Three topless girls were strutting along the stage, floating towards men with bills. Everyone I saw had a drink.

I got on my tiptoes to whisper in Matt's ear.

"I think we probably have to buy drinks."

Matt glanced at the girls, then smiled down at me.

"Now this is seedy as f*ck," he whispered back.

"I'm glad you think so! It really is. What are we doing here?"

"Having some fun," he said. He pulled out his wallet and headed for the stage. He'd caught the eye of an attractive dancer with chin-length blond hair. I watched them lean together and chat briefly, and I saw Matt pass the woman a bill. Her eyes widened and she smiled. Shit, how much money did he just give her?

Matt made his way back to me and took my hand. We followed the blond stripper toward the back of the club and down a hall. It got dramatically quiet when we stepped into a midsized room with mirrors on every wall. There were a few ottomans, a black velvet couch, a simple armless chair, and a table. I edged closer to Matt.

"Hi hun," said the stripper. "I'm Kelly. Don't be nervous darlings."

Darlings? The girl looked maybe twenty-five. She was pretty, though, and amazingly calm for someone wearing only a G-string and stilettos.

"Your boyfriend said you two wanted to have a little fun," she said, looking meaningfully between Matt and I.

Boyfriend? I glared at Matt. My glare dissolved as soon as I met his eyes. Oh... no. There it was—that starved, absorbing look that made me wild to please him. My heart went double time. I smiled faintly.

"Yeah," I said quietly.

Matt squeezed my hand, then prowled over to lean against a wall and watch us. Typical, he couldn't even sit. Restless... controlling. Intoxicating.

"Sit," he ordered, nodding at the chair. "Give her a lap dance," he said to the stripper.

I sank onto the chair. I was agonizingly aware of Matt staring at me, but I couldn't meet his gaze. I knew I was beet red.

The stripper straddled me and began to dance. She ignored Matt. She winked at me, ran her tongue along her lips, and brought her breasts close to my body as she ground her ass against my thighs.

I realized with a jolt that I was getting wet.

I wasn't into girls, not really, so what gave?

It had to be Matt. Matt watching me, enjoying my discomfort. Probably getting hard.

"Touch her," he said softly.

When I gave the stripper a questioning look, she took my hands and brought them to her breasts. I squeezed and she moaned.

Okay, I thought, I got this—but Matt's next order brought me up short.

"Show her yours, Hannah."

The stripper went right on grinding into my lap.

Show her mine? He wanted me to...

"Do it," Matt growled, leaning forward, "or I'll make you. Show her your nice big tits Hannah."

With shaking hands, I unzipped my dress enough to peel it down. Thank god I'd chosen a strapless dress. I rolled down my bra without unclasping it. My nipples were hard. I heard Matt exhale roughly.

"Good," he said.

The stripper lifted my heavy breasts and pressed them to hers. I moaned. Fuck, there was definitely a wet spot on my dress.

Matt stalked toward us suddenly.

"Get out," he snarled at the stripper.

Unfazed, the stripper accepted another bill from Matt, smiled at us both, and breezed out. The door clicked closed behind her. Matt stared down at me, tilting up my chin as if I were a disobedient child. My legs trembled.

"God, Hannah," he whispered. "You're perfect. Did you like that? Did you like making me hard like that? Look at my cock."

My eyes traveled down the buttons of Matt's shirt to the tent in his slacks. I swallowed.

"Looks good, right?"

I nodded.

"Did you enjoy showing your tits to that woman?" He chuckled and reached for my breasts, squeezing them mercilessly. "You're a slut for me, aren't you Hannah?"

"Yes," I gasped. I covered his hands with mine. My brain screamed: feminine power, feminine power! It was my turn to drive Matt crazy, god damnit.

I slid off the chair and fell to my knees at Matt's feet.

Before he could react, I yanked down his slacks and boxers, grabbed his cock—damn, I'd forgotten how huge it was—and began to suck hard on his head.

"Mm!" Matt groaned. "Ohhh... f*ck..."

Success! His noises spurred me on. I swirled my tongue around his head and stroked his shaft with one hand, fondling his balls with the other.

"H-Hannah," he stammered. "Oh, god... what... are you doing..."

I looked up at him. His eyes sent a shiver through me. He was gone, totally gone. A soft shock of hair swept across his brow. His head was lowered, his lips parted slightly. He watched in a stupor as my tongue and mouth made his cock glisten.

"Mmm," he moaned again. He clenched his teeth. Fuck, he was fighting it—fighting his pleasure, fighting for control. So hot.