Page 137 of The Dollhouse

Roman’s eyes were dark and haunting, his gaze steady on me. I couldn’t see beneath his stomach, but I’d bet anything he was already hard. His cock was instant steel anytime he watched me do anything, whether it was alone or with Carter.

And Carter… that man currently gave me a look that told me he wanted to lunge over the couch Wyatt sat in and grab me, pin me against the mantle and fuck me raw. Fuck me long and hard, as if there was nothing else in the world. No other men. No other eyes on me other than Roman’s.

But there was, and this was all about Wyatt.

I stepped closer to the table in front of Wyatt, murmuring, “Do you like my tattoo?” I spun to the side, my hips one with the beat, letting him get a nice, long view of it. When he didn’t answer, I ran a hand down that side, over the tattoo, and I swore I heard Wyatt gulp.

Oh, I had him. I had him so good it would hurt to unhook him from my line when this was all over. I knew I had him, and that made me smirk to myself as I lost myself to the beat once more.

Putting on a show, you see, wasn’t about getting off your clothes as soon as possible. It was about the wait, the anticipation, how hot it could run through your veins. It was about getting that heart beating while you waited, about making the audience lean forward in their seats and want to throw all their money at you.

Only this audience wasn’t throwing me money. The same ideas applied regardless.

The song changed, and it was a song that played when girls swung themselves around the pole with a faster urgency. The kind of song that played and went so hard you could feel it in your bones. A song that was all too easy for you to lose yourself in.

Every part of me was hot by the time I went to undo the bustier. I spun and gave the guys my back, letting them see me expertly undo it and slid it over my head. I swung the small thing around my finger a few times before tossing it to the side. All the while, my body kept with the beat, my ass rocking. Though all I wore was a thong now, I was anything but cold.

No, my body had started to heat up long before I hit play on the first song, long before I’d brought Roman and Carter in here. The anticipation drove me nuts, too. It got me just as badly as it got the men who watched girls like me dance every weekend. My core burned up, my heart beat fast, every part of me on fire.

When I turned to let the guys see my mostly-naked front, I knew their gazes dropped to my tits. I knew they inhaled sharply, taking in the perky curve of my breasts, the way my nipples had hardened into pebbled points. I knew Wyatt shifted on the seat because he was fighting an erection, knew Carter licked his lips because he wanted to take my nipples into his mouth. I knew Roman never forgot he and Carter were not the only ones in the room, but the man was a statue, immobile where he stood, his back hugging the wall.

I knew the camera picked up the table and the couch perfectly. Before now, I wasn’t in the frame, but the moment I crawled onto the coffee table and dramatically crawled toward Wyatt, I entered it.

That was the point. Willow needed to see she could never compete with this.

I crawled right off the coffee table, practically lunging toward Wyatt on the couch. I stopped when I damn near straddled him, pushing his top half back and making it known to the world that he did, in fact, have a hard-on for me and the show I was putting on. Leaning over him, I whispered, “Do you like what you see?”

Wyatt could not speak at all. All he could muster up was a short nod, and he swallowed hard. His reaction made me smile, and I went to crawl onto his lap, straddling him for real. And then I gave him a cross between a lap dance and a dry fuck, touching him on his chest with my hands, dipping downward and stopping just above his cock. I leaned forward, letting him get a good, long close-up view of my tits.

Oh, yeah. Willow was going to freak the fuck out when she saw this.

We were like that for a while, and then, when I was beyond certain Wyatt’s cock was so hard he’d have a massive case of blue balls until he got home and took care of himself, I got off him. I didn’t end the show right then, but it was winding down. I didn’t want to take off the thong and bare all of myself to him—mostly because it didn’t feel right to go that far.

And, also, the space between my legs did belong to Roman. Couldn’t ever forget that small detail.

At the end of the night, I got what I wanted out of it. I used Wyatt perhaps a bit harder and longer than I should have, but it was all for a reason. Pissing off my sister was as good of a reason as anything, in my opinion.

Once the show was done, I slipped on a shirt and my pants, forgoing the bustier underneath the shirt. I didn’t care that you could still see my hardened nipples through the fabric of the shirt. Wyatt had seen damn near everything already, so what was a little more?

Music still playing, Roman spoke above it, his voice the deadliest I’d heard it in a while: “I think it’s time for Wyatt to go.” At least he didn’t call Wyatt a boy to his face, although I knew if Wyatt didn’t get up off that couch and leave this instant, the insults would come soon enough.

Beside Roman, Carter was damn near ready to lunge for me, tackle me to the floor, and fuck me silly.

Wyatt blinked, and it took him a moment to get back into his own head, to gather himself. “Uh, uh…” It was all he could say apparently, so I went to him, grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. I didn’t give him a chance to respond to Roman, lugging him out of the living room and stopping only when we stood in the vestibule near the front door.

“Sorry to kick you out so fast,” I apologized, “but they… they always get a little worked up after my shows.” That was the farthest thing from a lie. I knew he wasn’t going to say anything in response to that, the poor guy was too dazed from my show, so I added, “I hope you liked it. Not to put all the pressure on you, but you did, didn’t you?”

Wyatt blinked, and then he shook his head. It looked as though he shook his head no, but he must’ve been too out of it to realize which direction he was shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, it was… you’re something else, Zoey.”

I grinned at him, and then I leaned up on my tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Wyatt. And, again, I’m sorry to kick you out so soon, but…” I didn’t say anything after that, since we both knew why my two boyfriends wanted Wyatt out.

Once he was gone, the wild fucking could commence.

“That’s okay,” he managed to say. “I’ll… I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” We were all just going to ignore the raging erection in his jeans, I guess, but that was probably a good thing. Touching his bare dick, even looking at it while he touched it, would be too much like… well, just too much.

He gave me a sheepish smile, and then he was out, and I waved as he made it to his car, watching as he backed up out of the long driveway and disappeared into the night. A pang of something hit my heart, but I ignored it as I shut the door.

I hoped Willow was around to see him leave with a hard dick, but even if she wasn’t stalking this house tonight, she’d see more than enough on Sunday, when I sent her the video of my little dance. Hell, I was at the point where I would send it to anybody at that party. AirDrop, anyone?

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