Page 13 of Jagger

And she’s gaping at me in return, raising every hair on my body at attention, my heart thrashing in my chest. Blinking hastily, her long lashes fan out over high cheekbones, mouth slightly ajar. A rosy flush heats her skin as my eyes drink her in from head to toe. At my devilish smile, she rakes a hand through these loose dirty-blonde waves and turns away from me in a flash, whispering something to the woman beside her in haste.

Do you know how hard it is to concentrate after that? Let’s just say I’m not the highlight of the double dance Rush and I give the bride-to-be. I could feel her watching me throughout.

The one time a stole a peek confirmed it.

I cut a glance over my shoulder, and there she was, wine glass to her lips, observing my every move from over the brim.

Eyes wanton and unapologetic.

Calling me like a siren.

I wanted to dance for her, wanted her to drink me in with that saucy little look while I pinned her to the couch and taunted her until she begged for so much more…

“Who’s next?” Rush’s voice booms, pulling me from my daze.

“Vida!” The bride bellows enthusiastically as we back up off her. “Vida needs one!”

The rest of the ladies nod in agreement, and with intuition stabbing me in the gut, I immediately find myself blurting, “Who’s Vida?”

“That would be me.” My little vixen lifts her hand as suspected.

I almost fist bump the air.

It’s on like motherfucking donkey kong. Ronin knows it too; the look on my face says it all. Despite the fact this is supposed to be my gig, he doesn’t give me shit about it, occupying the bachelorette and her bridal party while I zero in on what’s definitely going to be the highlight of my night.

“Ever had a dance...” It’s a question I ask everyone.

“Never,” she answers breathily, jerking my head back in genuine surprise, ‘cause I mean, look at her.

Alluring, feline features, curvy as hell. She’sfucking perfect.

She’s had to have had one teeny dance before...

“I don’t mean from just a male stripper. In general,” I clarify.

But she comes back with the same answer a second time, shaking her head.

Well, damn.

This just got a lot more interesting.

“The Hills” fades in through the speakers, revving up the electricity already buzzing between us in tenfold. Ironically enough, it’s the exact amplifier I need to give this girl the dance of her life, an experience she’ll never forget.

The Jag Experience—not for the weak of heart.

Cocky? Maybe.

But what can I say? I’m good at what I do and I know it without a doubt.

So I’m gonna work it to my advantage.

“Sit back,” I order gently.

That flush intensifies, but she complies, melting into the plush obsidian couch. A smirk curls my lips—so beautiful to watch; the prey submitting to the hunter. Caging her legs between my own, I grab onto the back of the couch and dip my head eye-level with hers, grinning as she gulps when I lean into her.

“Close your eyes.” The words caress her neck.

Again she obliges, but I don’t miss the shiver that racks her frame or how her hands tremble. Bringing a knee up beside her, I roll my hips right as the chorus sets off, looming closer and closer until my lips just barely brush her own.

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