Page 10 of Reclaimed

“So you, what, paid for my night so they couldn’t get close?”

“Something like that.”

An irrational well of anger rises up within me. “Well, isn’t that noble of you, Powell.”

“Isla.”

“It’sStella,” I hiss, rising from the couch.

“Don’t leave.”

“I’m not.” I throw my right leg over his lap and straddle him, slowly lowering until my bare ass scrapes the rough denim covering his thighs.

His eyes grow comically round as his hands flutter at his sides. “W-What are you doing?”

“What does it feel like I’m doing?” I curl one arm above my head and plant the other beside him on the back of the couch. My hips roll, grinding to the rhythm. “I’m giving you that dance you paid for.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

I shimmy my shoulders, shaking my tits near his face. “Of course I do. You paid for a dance!” I chirp.

“Really—”

I grab his hands and set them on my hips. “Keep them there.”

“Isla,” he groans, the throaty sound sizzling down my spine.

I lean into his neck and place my lips at his ear. “Stella.”

“Fuck,” he grunts, his face contorting as if he’s in pain. When he opens his eyes again, the baby blues blaze with uncontrolled lust. “One dance.”

“I thought you paid for three.”

His fingertips squeeze my fluffy hips. “I’m not going to be able to last for more than one.”

Oh.

Oh.

Holy god. A current snaps to life beneath my skin, sizzling to the tips of my finger and toes. His words alone awaken something sleeping, lying dormant in my stomach. An arousal I haven’t felt in—god, I can’t remember when.

What is this? Hormones? Or is this just him?

My heart hammers wildly at the thought of the effect I’m having on him. And that alone has an unintended effect onme.

I spin around, rising before dropping my ass in his lap and dancing the other way. Maybe some distance will help.

His groan rumbles his chest beneath my back. The vibrations there ripple through me. His legs shift, stretching out before planting back onto the ground and he grips my hips. His fingers clench, trying to hold me still, but then I feel it.

He’s hard beneath me.

Deliciously big and hard. The bulge nestles neatly between my legs, pressing insistently against that spot.

Oh, girl, what are you doing?

I shift and swirl my hips, each pass pressing closer, rubbing us together. The feel of his dick beneath me sends arousal to my core. If I’m not careful, I’m going to wind up leaving a wet spot on his pants, and that might just be the most embarrassing thing ever.

This isn’t like me. I don’t dance for clients and get turned on. Dancing is a job, and it’s as clinical as ever in this room.

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