Page 54 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

“I’m pretty good with my hammer. I can also screw.” He winks and leans over me to rub his hands along my legs. In a grand gesture, he reaches behind him and slaps his ass.

Oh God no. He didn’t.

I shake my head and raise my hands up in surrender to this outrageousness. “You’re definitely not a stripper. These lines are horrible. I feel embarrassed for you.”

“Hey, easy now. Don’t judge too harshly, this is my first time.” He slowly removes one of the overall straps and reaches in his pocket to pull out a set of handcuffs.

“Do you have some kind of bondage fetish? You look for any excuse to use handcuffs, I swear.”

He uses one of the handcuffs around one of my ankles, not attaching it to anything. I assume he does this not to startle me too much.

He stands and begins to lower the other strap as he sways his hips. I gulp and have a feeling that I’ll be begging him not to stop soon. Keaton Sloan definitely could be a stripper with that body. Maybe a silent stripper. He continues to perform a few dance moves that seem vaguely familiar.

“Have you been watching Magic Mike?”

“Maybe. And maybe Dirty Dancing. And maybe a couple of YouTube videos. Ready for this?” He turns his back to me and places his hands behind his head, then he slightly bends his knees and begins popping his rear up and down at me. I slap it, and he turns around with a pleased expression on his face.

He struts toward me and places a foot on the couch. He then begins to slowly gyrate next to my face. “Happy birthday to you…” he sings, as he continues to dry hump the air.

“Happy birthday to me,” I sarcastically agree between escaped giggles.

Suddenly he becomes serious. He stands in front of me and then slowly unbuckles his overall. His face is heated as he moves slower. My pulse quickens as I stare in fascination. The music changes and the song is as sensual as the first, but this time, it feels different. He isn’t joking around. The moves are more sexual and definitely stripper worthy. Not that I’ve ever seen a live strip show. Only watched Magic Mike. Twice.

He kicks his boots off. Then he sways his body so slowly that I see all the muscles move in his tight torso. He finishes unbuttoning his pants and then slowly unzips them, allowing them to fall to the floor.

I burst out laughing.

He’s wearing tight man panties with little hammers and nails on the fabric. He’s smiling big enough for that adorable dimple to make an appearance as he seductively dances. My laughing abruptly comes to a halt when he spreads my legs and stands between them. He places his hands on the back of the couch on either side of my head. He leans his forehead against mine and runs a hand up my leg. He slides his hand slowly back down and grabs the end of the dangling handcuff. With a mischievous smirk, he lets my foot dangle in the air and then brings my leg up against his hip and I wrap it around him. He grabs the other foot and does the same. My legs are wrapped around him as his hand continues its journey traveling upward. He doesn’t stop until he’s at the hem of my panties. I draw in a breath. He kisses the tip of my nose and then moves his lips to mine.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he whispers against my lips.

He pauses, giving me a moment to stop all of this. My answer is to kiss him, and his hand goes under my panties. The music changes to a song I’m familiar with and am sure I’ll never hear the same way again after this. Keaton sends my body into overdrive. I’m beside myself with lust. I feel a building sensation that I’m not sure is normal. When I’m to the point that I can’t take anymore, he shifts his hand, and I feel my body release in the most wonderful sensation. I hold on to him until it passes.

“Are you on birth control?” He breathes into my neck.

My body stills, and I feel myself about to panic. I’m not since I’m not sexually active. This would be a good time to mention the whole virgin situation.

He must notice how rigid I’ve become because he sits down next to me. “Shit, I’m moving too fast.”

“Well, technically we’ve only been on one date. We should slow down or you might think I’m easy.”

I refuse to meet his eyes. I’m embarrassed of how I acted. Plus, this is now really awkward. I don’t know what to do with my legs. I need another drink. Or a downer.

“Nothing with you has been easy. Sorry that came out… In my defense, you seemed to be sending me signals that you were interested.”

“Interested?”

“In having sex.”

“Sorry about that. If I’m being honest, I’m usually not so bold.”

“I tend to make women lose their senses.”

“Again with the lame lines. You might be more effective if you became the strong, silent type.”

My eyes travel down his strong body. I’m beginning to feel my own become warm again. I can’t help but wonder what sex with him would be like. If his skillful fingers are any indication, he would not disappoint.

“You’re beginning to make me feel like a piece of meat.”

---