Page 24 of Indigo Sky

Fuck, if this was all a show, she knew what she was doing, and I was two seconds away from making a mess in my pants without even touching myself.

It was then that I realized Nate had stopped his chattering, but I couldn't spare a moment to look at him. Not when she was on her hands and knees and crawling to the stage's edge. She slowly made her way over the table, holding my gaze as she maneuvered to straddle my lap and grip my shoulders, and ground herself against my raging boner.

Holy fuck. It was the first time I'd had a nearly naked woman in my presence, the first time one had given me any sort of attention, and it took every bit of my strength not to touch her, unsure of the rules, as I squeezed my eye shut and groaned with my unwanted release, biting my tongue to keep myself quiet.

Indigo curled her hands behind my neck as my heart rate slowed and my breathing settled.

I muttered a humiliated, "Oh God," as she whispered into my ear, "That one was on the house too."

I wanted to get out of there. Everything was uncomfortable, and my pants were a mess. I hadn't experienced something so humiliating since Mom had walked in on me watching porn when I was fifteen.

I cleared my throat as Indigo stood, her breasts directly in my face, and I reached for my wallet. I didn't know what amount was appropriate as a tip for making a guy ejaculate in his pants, but I opened it up and pulled out the only fifty I had. Flustered, I handed it to her with shaky fingers, and she tipped her head, eyeing me with something that reminded me of pity.

"Are you sure?" she asked softly.

"Y-yeah," I stammered, feeling so fucking stupid that I wanted to die. "Take it."

She did and tucked it into the string holding her underwear up. "Thank you."

No, thankyou, I thought, but didn't say it. I didn't know how I was going to say anything to her ever again—if I had the opportunity, that was.

Twenty-two years old. Never been kissed, nope, but I could say a stripper had made me come in my pants.Awesome.

"My turn."

Somehow, I had forgotten Nate was there, and I glanced over to see darkness had shrouded his eyes. He was staring directly at Indigo as if I wasn’t sitting right there in front of him.

She smiled sweetly, resumed her swaying to the song, but shook her head. "Sorry, handsome. I only had time for one."

He narrowed his gaze and cocked his head. "I call bullshit, but, sure, whatever you say … bitch."

"Nate," I warned, even as Indigo was already gracefully moving away from our table.

He shook his head, finally dropping his sinister glare to meet my eye. "And don't you go thinking this means anything, all right? She's awhore, and you're acustomer. Don't forget that."

And apart from the whore comment, I knew he was right. She had a job to do, and I was an easy target. How could I think anything more?

So, I didn't.

I hung around with Nate until he was ready to leave. I didn't see Indigo again, and I wasn’t sure if I should be relievedabout that or not. But then, as Nate peeled out of the parking lot, I pulled out a cigarette before driving away myself. I lit up, looking out toward the highway as I blew ribbons of smoke into the air.

"Ah, I knew there had to be something wrong with you," a familiar voice said from behind me. "You seemed too perfect, and alas … I was right."

I spun around to see Indigo Sky standing there, a duffel bag hanging from one shoulder, a purse from the other. She had on a pair of sweatpants, a tanktop, and black sneakers. Her pink hair was pulled into a messy knot at the top of her head, and somehow, like this, free of makeup and costume, she was so much more real and far, far, far more beautiful.

"It's a shitty habit," I agreed, holding up the cigarette. "I'd quit, but …”

"Quitting anything we rely on is as simple as it is hard," she said.

I nodded slowly, thinking about more than just cigarettes. "Yeah."

She glanced around the parking lot. "Where's your friend?"

"He left."

"Does he smoke too?"

"He does."

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