Page 43 of Best Served Cold

My brain was having a hard time reconciling that Zane, the brooding and angry guy I saw at work every day, could not only dance like he should be on tour with whatever pop diva was currently topping the charts, but was also an accomplished gymnast who could flip and spin and toss his equally big and built brother around as well as any Cirque de Soliel performer.

I was still in a daze and trying to comprehend what I’d just seen when the DJ’s voice came over the loudspeaker again.

“And now an extra little treat, let’s welcome Andy to the stage.”

I flicked my gaze to the stage out of habit and nearly swallowed my tongue as the spotlight flashed on, revealing Zane in a pair of jeans and a thin white tee.

A metal chair was pushed up against the pole, which hadn’t been there during their twin dance.

How long had I been out of it? I hadn’t even noticed them cleaning off the stage or setting up the pole and chair.

The lights dimmed, then flashed back up as the opening bars to a new song came over the speakers. I recognized it, but it sounded like the first six or so seconds, were being played on loop.

Zane sauntered to the middle of the stage, a smirk on his lips, and fixed his gaze on me.

Oh. Fuck.

Lifting one arm as the music continued on loop, he pointed to me.

Heads twisted as everyone in my immediate vicinity tried to figure out who he was pointing to.

He quirked one eyebrow like he was asking if I was okay with whatever was about to happen.

I nodded, not knowing or caring what I agreed to as long as I got to see him dance again.

Zane’s smirk deepened as he dropped his arm and did a leaping cartwheel-type flip off the stage.

The audience shrieked and yelped, but my eyes were glued to Zane as he stalked toward me.

He stopped in front of my table and crooked his finger.

Barely aware of anything other than Zane, I stood.

He grabbed the front of my jeans, dragged me around the table, and back toward the stage. I stumbled behind him like a newborn deer walking on ice for the very first time.

Luckily, he took pity on me and led me on stage via the little platform. I would have for sure fallen on my face trying to climb onto it without the steps.

He pulled me over to the chair and shoved me into it.

I went willingly.

As soon as my ass hit the seat, the loop ended and the song began to play.

Zane straddled my legs and pulled my arms above my head. With practiced moves, he held my wrists together and fished out a pair of quick-release handcuffs from his back pocket. He snapped them over my wrists, looping the chain behind the pole and anchoring me to it.

He gave me a look that was half taunting and one-hundred percent challenge as the vocals kicked in. I finally recognized the song as “Believer” by Imagine Dragons. Not a song I would have expected someone to strip to, but it suited him.

Zane spent the first few minutes of the song dancing for the audience and slowly stripping off his clothes during the verses, and grinding against me and using me as a prop during the chorus.

He wasn’t gentle as he dragged my cheek over his stomach and shoved my face against his crotch. He yanked on my hair hard enough to sting, but every little pulse of pain only ramped up my arousal.

I knew my boner was visible to everyone, but I couldn’t be assed to care as Zane continued to give me what was essentially a lap dance on stage.

Everything about the moment was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. His scent, the familiar combo of sweet and spicy, the heat from his body. Even the slicks of sweat he left on me as he teased me were sexy as fuck.

Toward the end of the song, when the final chorus came in, he hauled me to my feet and kicked the chair out from under me.

Before I could even blink, he lifted me right off the floor, balancing me against the pole as he settled me at his hips, my ass bumping his hard dick.

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