Page 44 of Best Served Cold

Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him and gripped the pole tight as he flipped to full-on dirty dancing with me.

Pleasure surged through me with every drag of his cock against my ass and taint. My dick throbbed and my balls drew up tight as he toyed with me, his intense eyes never leaving mine.

“Oh fuck,” I muttered as he held the pole and pressed me tight against it so he could sink down in a squat with me sitting on his thighs. When he stood back up, he angled his hard dick against mine and rolled his hips in a quick wave. The effect was the same as if he were stroking me with his hand, but it was the intense look in his eyes that made it hard to breathe.

The song ended and Zane held his pose for a few beats, our gazes locked as we panted together. He pursed his lips in a quick and mocking air kiss, then slid me down his body so I was back on solid ground. He had the handcuffs off me in seconds and leaned in close.

Zane’s mouth was open and hot against my ear. “Behind the building. Five minutes.”

I blinked dazedly as he pulled away. He had literally rocked my world.

I had no words.

He took my hand and gently pulled me away from the pole. He gave me a moment to catch my balance, then led me to the platform.

The crowd of men around it helped me down. I strode back to my table on shaky legs, Zane’s words echoing in my ear.

I slid into my chair and leaned against the table, trying to get my bearings as my world still spun in a dizzying circle.

Why did he want to meet me outside? Was he pissed at me for showing up here? It was a bit of a violation, but he hadn’t seemed mad when he’d pulled me on stage.

I could just go home and pretend nothing happened. And leaving Zane hanging would be a victory.

My stomach coiled with unease. No, I couldn’t do that. Not after I’d shown up here unannounced. I’d let him say his piece, maybe gloat about how he’d turned me into a simpering half brain-dead mess with a raging boner in front of a club of strangers, then go home and forget about Zane’s moves and the way he’d looked at me.

8

ZANE

“Break time?” River asked casually.

I tugged my tee over my head. “Something like that.”

“Who was that guy?” Nick asked at my elbow.

“No one, Angel face.”

“Liar. You never pull people from the audience.” Nick put his hands on his hips and pinned me with a glare, or at least what passed as a glare on his cherubic face. “And you switched sets with Gray so you could go back out. Why?”

“No reason.”

“Zane Bartholomew Masters.” Nick threw up his hands in exasperation. “I love you, but you’re exhausting sometimes.”

“How did I not know your middle name is Bartholomew?” Kai asked, looking up from his phone.

I closed my locker. “It’s not.”

Nick shrugged when everyone swung their gazes to him. “He needed to be middle-named and since I don’t know his middle name, I made one up.”

“Bartholomew.” River snickered. “Almost as bad as our real middle name.”

“Okay, you have to tell me now.” Nick gave me his best puppy eyes. “Pretty please.”

“Wait, you have the same middle name?” Kai asked, tucking his phone away.

“Kind of.” I shoved my feet into my shoes.

“Nope.” Nick jumped in front of me, blocking my path. “You can’t cliffhanger us like that. I won’t allow it.”

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