Page 23 of Indigo Sky

"How much for a dance, sweetheart?"

"Um … it's sixty bucks, but—"

"What about a private dance?"

She swallowed and shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. But still, the fake smile never left her face. "That'll run you a hundred bucks."

"Hmm …" He nodded, running his hand lower to grab her ass. "How about you and I—"

"Indigo! You're up!"

She turned to face a man in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He didn't give me the sleazy vibes I'd expect from someone working in a strip club. Actually, from the concerned look on his face, I thought I might like him.

"You okay over there, Indie?" he asked, coming closer to where she stood with my friend's hand still lingering on her ass.

"All good, Sam," she said coolly, slipping away from Nate’s touch.

She walked past us and brushed her fingertips along my upper arm as she went. Sam hung around our table for a moment or two longer before wandering away, and I relaxed with a long exhale. There was something about Nate in this environment that I didn't like, something about him being nearher. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I was looking at him like he was a loose cannon, like one false move could lead to devastation.

But wasn't he always?

A voice boomed over the speakers, "Everybody, put your hands together and feast your eyes on … Indigo Sky."

Indigo.

I lifted my head and lowered my glass as the pink-haired waitress took to the stage. She had swapped her bra and skirt ensemble for something a little less revealing and somehow more enticing. She reminded me of a fairy with her flowing, gauzy-looking skirt tied at the waist and her top, with its flared sleeves, cinched between full, round,perfectbreasts. Her pink ponytail belonged in the bloom of a secret flower, not on a stage for every hungry pair of eyes to stare at her. I didn't like it, but I likedherwithout even knowing her, and that truth settled into my stomach like a hot, heavy ball of lead.

"Oh, fuck yes," Nate groaned beside me, leaning back in his chair. “This is what I came for.”

Indigo twirled onstage with the skill of a prima ballerina. I wondered if she was a dancer. Notthiskind of dancer, but one that belonged in a theater or some shit. She swayed her hips, slowly untied her skirt, and tossed the flimsy piece of cloth to the edge of the stage, not far from where Nate and I sat. Beneath it, she wore the tiniest G-string I'd ever seen, as pink as the hair on her head, and all I could think of was how pink she'd be underneath.

She gripped the pole in her hands and twirled around. With an unbelievable amount of upper-body strength, she hoisted herself higher and higher until she was nearly at the top. Then, with only one arm and one leg wrapped around the shinymetal, she slowly spun her way back down with her other arm and leg outstretched, giving all a peek at what was between her legs.

She was gorgeous, yes, and unbelievably sexy. The sexiest woman I'd ever seen in my life, I'd say. But believe it or not, that wasn't what had me as hard as a fucking rock in my pants. Nah. It was howstrongshe was. How physically fit and flexible. The girl wasn't just skilled at pole dancing. She turned stripping into an art form and a feat of strength, and while the others whistled and threw their dollar bills onto the stage, I could only stare in wondrous awe.

God, she could be so much more than this, I kept thinking, and I wondered why she wasn't.

"Fuck, I wanna bury my cock in that so bad," Nate muttered beside me, wiping his hand over his mouth. "She's tiny as fuck. I bet her pussy's fuckin' tight, man."

I rolled my eye away from the stage to glare at him. "You know, sometimes, I really hate you."

"Oh, fuck off. Like you're not thinking it."

I'd be a damn liar if I said I hadn't thought about sex in the time she'd been dancing. I mean, Christ, I considered myself a gentleman, but I wasn't dead.

"Thinking isn't the problem," I said. "It's what comes out of your mouth that is."

He laughed harder than was necessary. "I only speak the truth, man, and the truth right now is"—he pointed his finger atthe dancer onstage—"thatis the most fuckable-looking chick I've ever seen in my entire fucking life."

Considering how many chicks Nate had fucked, I was questioning just how true that statement was the moment it left his mouth. But that didn't mean it was a lie either.

Indigo Sky was, without a doubt, fuckable.

But she was more than that too.

She moved with grace to the music and closed her eyes, as if to shut out the crowd. She danced with emotion and stripped as though she was doing it more for herself than the audience before her. I held my breath as she untied her top and revealed her breasts, and I forgot how to breathe altogether as her fingertips flitted over her nipples, stomach, and down between her legs, like butterflies swooping through the summer air.

She dropped down directly in front of me, her back against the pole and her knees spread wide. She cupped her panty-covered groin and writhed against the pole, her hooded eyes meeting my gaze as she rubbed herself.

---