Page 4 of Mr. Bossy

“What about my teeth?”

A small, intense jolt of pure desire moved through me.I found myself licking my lips and answering breathlessly, “That’s a terrible idea.”

“I thought you wanted me to use my imagination.”

“Maybe not.I have a feeling your imagination would make me break all of my rules.”

He was closer suddenly, staring up at me, his hard, stubbled chin inches from my quivering belly.“Every single one.Now.Clothes.Off,” he bit out brusquely.He held up a hand.“I’ll hold your glass for you.It seems to be slowing you down.”

I handed it to him, holding his gaze while I slid out of my dress.There wasn’t much to it, a bit of wiggling and shimmying had me back down to a G-string and holding a hand out for my champagne flute again in under a minute.I downed it and handed it back to him.

“Any special requests?” I asked him, grabbing the pole.

“None that you’ll agree to.”

Fair enough. Without another word, I got to it, pulling myself up, hooking one leg on, letting one hand swing loose as I twirled on the pole for him. I climbed it, and slid back down for him.I caught myself with my hands, and posed for him at the bottom.I loved the way he looked at me, and some part of me felt the need to blow his mind.

So I did.Gyrating, working the pole, climbing, and swinging, working it sideways, and upside down, posing at each maneuver to give him the perfect view of my toned body and my big, perky tits.

I was panting and sweating by the time I finished, satisfied that I’d given him a hell of a show.

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