Page 11 of Phantom Mine

“What are you waiting for?” he purrs. “Dance for me.”

“With no music? I may come from a long line of talented strippers, but even I can’t work with nothing.”

He chuckles, the sound warm and enticing.

I hate that I notice it.

He taps the screen of his phone and the beginning notes of a sexy, sultry song I don’t know come over the speakers.

I close my eyes, taking a few seconds to listen to the beat. When I feel like I understand it, I start to sway to the tempo.

Slowly at first, my body barely moving. Then faster, more confidently, until it feels like the song has slipped beneath my skin and buried itself into my bloodstream.

Lifting my arms unhurriedly above my head, I turn my back to him and start undulating my hips slowly to the beat of the song. I release the clip at the back of my head and send my hair tumbling freely down my back in a thick, glossy mane that reaches just above my ass.

A strangled noise sounds behind me, but I barely register it in my trance-like state. My hands run through my hair, holding it partially up as I drop down into a slow squat and stay low, shaking my ass as the beat of the song ramps up.

I’m not a dancer but IamColombian and this sort of seduction through movement is in my DNA. I may not be able to wow him with my technical prowess, but I will give him a show he won’t be able to tear his eyes off of.

I guarantee it.

Staying low to the ground, I spread my legs to either side of me until I’m splayed in a side split. I drop forward so that my lower belly makes contact with the ground and keep going until my breasts are pressed into the stage.

Still in this position, I lift my hips inches off the ground and start twerking. My technical knowledge does stretch far enough to know how to make my cheeks clap and I use that previously very closely guarded party trick to make a lasting impression.

I can’t see him at this angle, but I don’t have to be sitting where he is to know I look unbelievable right now.

Bringing my knees together and then back apart repeatedly, I undulate backwards towards the very edge of the stage. I rehearsed how to keep my best assets on display for this very moment, so my ass is front and center.

I can’t resist stealing a look over my shoulder as I shift positions. The judge of my audition is stone faced, his jaw so tight a passing breeze could snap it. He looks like he also wants to be my juryandexecutioner for daring to put on such a performance.

But his eyes… his eyes are trained on my ass and filled with such raw, unmistakablehunger, it makes him look almost feral.

That look is so unexpected that I miss a beat and slip as I turn, rolling onto my back with a thud instead of into the practiced move I’d intended.

I play it off as best I can and slip easily back into my performance, hoping he didn’t notice I messed up. A rush of bile rises into my throat. If I don’t get this job because of that mistake…

Swallowing the nausea down, I work to calm my heart rate and focus on finishing out my audition.

Once on my back, I run my hands seductively down the length of my body and between my parted legs.

When I’d rehearsed this section, I’d accounted for staring into Guido’s eyes to make the moment even more sensual. Staring intothisman’s ravenous green eyes is significantly harder. It takes every ounce of discipline to keep looking at him, especially when he leans forward, his hands clasping between his legs as his elbows rest on his knees.

He stares back, his eyes never moving from my face even though my legs are spread and my hands are playing suggestively near my pussy. Any other man would focus on the apex of my thighs, but not him. He watches me like a hunter tracks his prey before he shoots it and has it for lunch.

There’s something so unbelievably intimate about his ensnaring gaze. I feel like I’ve stared into his eyes before, like we’ve shared a moment together in the past. That’s the only explanation I can find for how he seems to be able to dig all the way inside me with just one glance.

Too bad he’ll find me hollow and empty.

Kneeling, I turn my back to him once more and start rocking my hips suggestively. The move is lewd and inappropriate, making my cheeks flush red in embarrassment. But I’m trying to make him think that I’m comfortable being overtly sexual like this, that I have no problem stripping down to nothing, so I sell it hard and hope he’s buying it.

I arch my back, popping out my ass as much as possible, and throw in a loud, throaty moan for good measure.

There’s the sound of metal screeching against wood before a hand fists my hair and I’m yanked brutally back.

I startle, a soft gasp falling from my lips as my gaze clashes with an angry pair of green eyes looming above me.

Except they’re not green anymore. They’re as black as a circling sharks’ and their entire focus is pinned on me.

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