Page 31 of Assassin's Obsession

"Bar." My voice is hoarse from the strain my rage is putting on the muscles in my throat.

Just the fact she knows the bar is an option in these rooms pisses me off. She doesn't work back here.

But her friends do and I bet they talk about it. It better be that, and not that she's been doing her research in preparation for bringing customers back here.

Candi presses a button in the wall near the door and a bar lowers from the ceiling.

She seems mesmerized by its descent, but I'm looking to see if there are streaks of left over fluids on it. I don't see anything but that's not a guarantee.

"You need to wipe that down with sanitizer before you start." A shudder rolls through me at the thought of Candi's skin touching a pole covered in other people's germs.

"The dancers sanitize it before it goes back into the ceiling," she assures me.

I shake my head. "Better safe than sorry."

Before each set, cleaners come on stage and sanitize the poles for the ones getting new dancers, but there's no one here to watch and make sure the dancers are as fastidious on their own.

Her mouth twists in a grimace, but she grabs a spray bottle and paper towels out of a decorative chest. She doesn't half-ass it, but cleans the pole thoroughly.

"Satisfied?" she asks with a hand cocked on one hip.

I jerk my head in affirmative.

She smiles. "Good."

After she does something by the door,Closerby Nine Inch Nails starts to play. It's the song she danced to onstage.

And one on my playlist for working out. It makes me think of her.

Someone else might think it's funny that we both gravitate toward an industrial rock band that started before either of us was born. But to me, it's just proof we're meant to be together.

My eyes are glued to her as she dances her new routine just for me. My boner is so hard, its probably pressing a permanent indent in my leather pants.

We didn't negotiate how long she would dance for me, and neither of us says anything as the next song on her list begins to play.

Leaning back against the pole, her tits lifted like perfectly round melons lifted toward heaven, she reaches behind her. Then her bra straps go slack.

My breath stutters in my chest when she grips the front of her bra.

Candi pulls the mesh away from her body, revealing the soft, flawless skin of her breasts. The bra flutters to the floor and I have to swallow against my suddenly constricted throat.

My throat's not the only thing constricted. My cock is trapped in leather and drooling with the need to be let out. I curl my hands into fists to stop myself from opening my fly and taking myself in hand.

Candi notices and her eyes flare with satisfaction.

She likes turning me on.

But it's not me, she's turning on, is it? As far as she knows, it's some rando she brought back here.

Fuck.

Moving away from the pole, Candi slinks toward me, every curve of her gorgeous body moving with sinuous grace. She dances closer and closer until her tassel covered nipples swing in front of my face, the creamy skin of her tits making me salivate with the need to taste.

"Is this what you want?" she purrs.

I swallow and have to clear my throat before I answer. "Yes."

I fucking want her naked, that tiny triangle of white silk that makes up her G-string gone, the pasties peeled away from her nipples. Nothing but Candi flavored skin for me to taste and touch.

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