Page 136 of The Dollhouse

Wyatt looked completely awkward, like he’d never had any social interactions prior to this in his entire life. He shifted his weight, glancing at me and smiling a little and then looking at his lap. It was more than obvious he didn’t know what to do or say right then, but that was fine. I could take the lead here. This was my night, after all.

“Are you ready for your show?” I purred out, running a hand down along his arm. “I’ll have to call Roman and Carter back down; I told them they could watch, too.” I pointed to the space behind the couch we currently sat in. “They won’t be next to you, though. Just pretend they’re not here.” We’d moved the other sitting furniture to the far sides of the room, save for this couch and the small table in front of it.

I wanted Wyatt to be comfortable. Plus, in an area that was perfectly visible to the camera tucked away in the room, where Wyatt couldn’t see it.

Instead of answering my question, Wyatt asked his own, “Are you sure you want to… to do this? We don’t have to. We could just hang out. Watch a movie. Or a TV show, or something. I’m not picky—”

Leveling my stare at him, I asked, “Does that mean you don’t want to see my tattoo? I was looking forward to putting on a show for you, Wyatt.” I spoke his name huskily, using a tone of voice drove the others crazy.

That was the thing about accepting your sexuality. Once you accepted it, you had no problems using it however you wanted. It was a part of you, no matter what you tried to do to hide it. I wished more people understood that and accepted that part of themselves.

He coughed. “Uh, I mean, if you want to I won’t stop you… but if I turn into an awkward mess after, it’s totally your fault.”

“You’re already an awkward mess,” I joked, “so it wouldn’t be that different from normal, would it?” As I spoke, I couldn’t help but smile as I watched his expression lightened up somewhat. He knew I was right.

Since he didn’t say anything after that, I got up. I took our glasses and set them on the floor in the hall. Roman and Carter waited near the stairwell, stern scowls on their faces—as usual—and I gestured for them to come with me. They knew where they would be standing, and they knew to keep their hands and their dicks to themselves for right now. They could go wild and fuck me after Wyatt left. After the show.

If they so much as tried to make comments about how Wyatt shouldn’t be here or how he shouldn’t be watching me dance, I swore I would withhold sex from them. For a few days, at least. Let’s be real: I wouldn’t be able to withhold sex from either of them for long. Who the hell could? They were sex on two legs, dark and delicious.

I sauntered back into the living room, where Wyatt fidgeted. He didn’t sound like he was used to girls coming onto him, and I’d bet anything that if I was someone else, he wouldn’t be here right now, willing to give it a shot.

I stood before him, bending over somewhat as I placed both hands on his knees. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” One last chance. One last chance for Wyatt to decide he didn’t want this, because once I got going, I wouldn’t be stopping for nobody.

“No,” he answered honestly, “but I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, no matter how scary your other boyfriends are.”

I laughed at that, but I didn’t argue with him. I couldn’t. What he’d said was true; my boyfriends were scary. The two that were here, anyway. They did not blend in well with normal society, or Hillcrest society, for that matter.

“Good,” I murmured, tracing the right side of Wyatt’s jaw with my fingertips before walking away. I went to the windows, tugging the curtains closed, blocking out the dark world outside. The curtains beneath were sheer, so they didn’t really give any privacy, but these new ones? They were room-darkening, meaning you couldn’t see through them for shit. Willow might be stalking me tonight—had to be aware of that possibility—but she wouldn’t see what I was doing with Wyatt.

And if she was out there, being a peeping Tom because she couldn’t give Wyatt up, all I could say was she’d find out soon enough. This would piss her off royally. That was the whole point of tonight, actually.

Once the room was closed off from the world, I sauntered to the mantle, where my pink speaker sat. I brought out my phone, searching for the playlist I’d made earlier. I had no idea how long this little exhibition of mine would be, but I wasn’t going to rush any of it. If it took one song, it took one song. If it took five, it took five. All I knew was I wanted to get Wyatt properly worked up, to the point where it was obvious on camera.

I wanted him to get hard, so hard he didn’t know what to do with himself, and then I’d give him a kiss and send him home. He’d have to find relief in his own hand tonight, not mine, and certainly not any other part of me.

“Now, I want you to sit back, relax, and enjoy the show,” I whispered, meeting his stare as I connected my phone to the speakers and hit play. I set the phone on the mantle next to the speaker, and a slow melody began to play.

It started slow, but it didn’t stay slow. It would give me some time to work into it.

Putting on a show was like being in your own world. I closed my eyes, my back to Wyatt, and lost myself to the steady beat. My hips began to sway, side to side, drawing attention to my ass. Whether Wyatt was gentlemanly enough to try to ignore the sway of my ass wouldn’t really matter, because once I started to take off my clothes, he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off me.

He’d see my tattoo. He’d see a whole lot more than that. He’d see all that with Roman and Carter standing behind him, just a few feet away. Lake was here in spirit, my steadfast lover, my sweet man.

I lifted both hands, drawing my fingers through my hair and lifting its pink lengths up, hips still swaying with the beat. The song was one we played in the Dollhouse often, so I knew it by heart. Most of the playlist was taken straight from the Dollhouse’s speakers, in fact.

It was kind of like I was there, on stage, with an audience of my own, the music taking over my body in a trance. Like I was back home, where I should be, no longer in Hillcrest, no worries anywhere to be seen. Just the desperate, urgent need to put on a show, to show off, to make the men whose eyes watched me grow hard with lust and molten desire. If I said it was addicting, I’d be lying.

It was so much more than that. So much more I couldn’t even describe it. It was almost like I was an addict and being watched was the fix I so desperately needed. It came as easily as breathing. Leaving Hillcrest and stumbling upon the Dollhouse had been nothing short of fate. It was there I discovered who I really was, there I found two of my soulmates. The Dollhouse had changed my life.

I dropped my hands to my hips as the beat of the music picked up. It went from slow and steady to upbeat and sexy. Normally, the girls dancing to this started off swinging around the pole, and then when the beat got faster, they began to take off their clothes. I would do the same, taking a page out of their playbook since the girls at the Dollhouse were the experts at putting on shows.

As much as I loved doing it, I didn’t get to do it that often, thanks to Roman, and I never, ever got to do it at the Dollhouse, unless the club was closed for the night and the only members of the audience were my boyfriends.

I didn’t need to turn around to look at Wyatt to know I had his full attention, and all I had to do was exist to hold Roman’s and Carter’s. My fingers went to the base of my shirt, and I lifted it up and over my head, dropping it aside. A pretty, pink bustier hugged my tits and a few inches just below the curves. My hands ran down my sides, lightly running over the giant tattoo and then my ass.

Tight leggings clung to my backside, but within another minute, they were off my legs and on the floor near my shirt, revealing a matching pink thong beneath them. Only then did I turn around, letting my small audience get a view of my front.

My gaze rested on Wyatt, whose skin was redder than a cherry. Seriously, they could make a new crayon color and call it Wyatt’s Cheeks, because it put all other reds to shame. His eyes had widened, his attention on me. Judging from his posture, he didn’t even remember there were other men in the room, watching the same show he was.

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