Page 15 of Midnight Whispers

His ice-blue eyes bore into me as I take in his clean-shaven face, full lips, and straight nose. This guy could be straight off a runway with his perfectly tousled brown hair and his expensive dress pants and button-down shirt. Designer for sure. I’d know that even if I didn’t know that Nero Voss is a billionaire.

It’s clear why Eric made the comment he did. Nero isn’t wearing the usual jeans and T-shirt most of the guys who come in here do, nor does he exude the energy of a down-home local boy. No, his presence demands your attention, and the way he’s looking at me makes me want to preen under his watchful gaze. It reminds me of the night I first saw him at the ball.

He might remember me from the ball, but I’m certain he won’t recognize me as Maude’s stepsister. I was always forced to hide in the attic whenever he was at the estate. Knowing Maude, she probably never even mentioned that I existed.

“Hi.” I turn and close the door behind me.

A sharp intake of breath rushes from him, and when I turn to face him again, it’s obvious he was checking out my ass. Or what you can see of it with this short skirt.

With my left hand, I flick the light switch that turns on the neon light, and the room is bathed in red. Then I sashay over and take a seat next to him.

“I’m Cin,” I say, though I’m fairly sure he already knows that from watching me dance so many times.

He nods. “Nero.”

I smile with flirtation. “Nice to meet you, Nero.”

He returns my smile, and my heart rate picks up.

How the hell did Maude ever land this man? She’s a grade-A bitch and a horrible person. But she’s also a chameleon, so I’m sure she fooled him—for a while at least.

I’ve never been jealous of Maude for a minute in my life, even though she got all the freedom, all the praise, and all the love. I always knew what kind of person she was, and since I never wanted to be like her, I considered myself lucky, even given my circumstances. But looking at this man and knowing she was able to make him love her, sleep with her… my stomach rots with acid.

“What would you like tonight?”

“How about a lap dance?” He drags a finger from my shoulder down to my elbow. It’s a simple move, somewhat innocent even, but I clench my thighs together from the current of electricity concentrating there.

I lean in, and his gaze flicks to my cleavage like most men. “Just a lap dance?” I arch an eyebrow.

“Let’s start there.”

“Fair enough. One song will cost you a hundred dollars.” It’s more than I can usually get out of any of the guys around this place, but Nero can afford it.

“I’ll give you two thousand dollars for the next hour of your time, how does that sound?”

I try not to act as if he’s surprised me, but I’m not sure I succeed based on the way one corner of his lips tip up.

“Sounds like we should get started.” I stand from the couch and walk over to the wall to turn up the volume of the music.

The music in the VIP rooms is different from what plays in the main club. It’s a rotation of sultry music that plays on repeat.

As I make my way back to him, I exaggerate my hip movements and walk to the beat of the music, coming to stand in front of him. He’s relaxed, arms splayed across the back of the couch. The muscles in his arms stretch the fabric of his shirt. His blue eyes watch me with intensity, and I turn around and give him my back.

Something about this man rocks me and makes me forget about all my problems outside of this room.

I bend forward, grabbing my ankles and wiggling my ass side to side, staring at him through my legs. He licks his bottom lip, and his eyelids grow heavy with lust. Not wanting to lose any of his attention, I slide back up and set myself in his lap.

A moan escapes me when my weight settles on his hard cock. His huge hard cock. He must know I like the feel of it because he raises his hips, pressing into my ass. I slide along his body, gyrating my hips to the beat of the music, and eventually slide the tiny black sports bra up over my head.

“Leave the tie on.”

His tone brooks no argument, and my nipples tighten. Tossing the fabric aside, I lean back so his chest is pressed against my back and grind on him. I feel like a cat in heat, as if I’m doing this for my pleasure and not his. If it weren’t for the persistent erection pressing into my ass, I might wonder whether I was the only one enjoying this dance because not once have his hands ventured to touch me. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t wish he’d try to cop a feel.

I lean forward and place my hands on his hard thighs, grinding down on his lap and swinging my ponytail from side to side.

Tired of teasing myself, I eventually stand, turn around, and straddle his lap.

Big mistake. Now I see the way he’s looking at me as though he’s a minute away from devouring me. I grow wetter. I circle my hips on him then raise myself on my knees a bit so that my breasts are in his face, my nipples turgid and begging for attention. They’re aching for him to touch, to lick, to play.

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