Page 7 of Thirst Trap
4
Jake
Her words area straight shot of adrenaline through my body.
I might not be a cowboy, but I wouldn’t mind giving her the ride of her life.
When I took the dare, I figured I’d give the bride a dance—it is her last hurrah as a single woman. She should have at least one crazy story from her bachelorette party. What’s crazier than a lap dance from a random stranger? I figured that would give me an ice breaker into the group. Hopefully, the blonde beauty would be impressed by my moves and we could strike up a conversation after. I’d buy her a drink. And maybe if I was lucky, I could give her a dance of her own.
In private.
Like he’s reading my mind, I see Knox bring me a chair, placing it behind me. Where he got it, I have no clue, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“You ready?” I ask, spinning her around to place her on the chair. She doesn’t take her eyes off me as she slowly lowers herself, and fuck if that doesn’t spur me on even more.
“Let’s see what you got.”
This is now so much more than a stupid dare from Trent. I have one shot to make me unforgettable to this woman, and I sure as hell am not about to blow it.
I turn my back, taking a few steps away from her chair. As soon as the words of the chorus drop, I pivot around, taking one step before I slide toward her, landing right at her knees, which I promptly push apart. I take a quick glance up at her eyes, and my movement has its desired effect.
She’s turned on. Her jaw is open slightly and her cheeks are flushed.
Perfect.
I push myself up, snaking my body between her spread legs as I feel the hat come off my head. It’s only when she slips it on hers do I realize she’s the thief.
Oh, she’s going to pay for that.
I smirk before stepping over her legs, bringing them back together as I straddle her on the chair. My hips begin to roll back and forth, grazing her lap every time they pass each other, my hands gripping the back of her chair. I can’t help but see more than a few cameras are capturing this. I know for a fact Trent is one of them. I don’t give a shit right now. All that is on my mind is making sure this woman never forgets this.
I lean back a little, taking in her face when I see the smile that attracted me to her just minutes ago.
“That all you got?” she asks, challenge laced in her words.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re holding back.”
The challenge in her eyes and the teasing in her voice go straight to my dick, and I have to shift my movement so she doesn’t see what she is doing to me.
I take a step back, so I’m no longer straddling her, but continue to move to the beat as I walk behind her. I place my hands on her shoulders, hoping it gives me a few seconds to calm my dick down. It’s no use. The softness of her skin against my rough hands feels way too fucking good. Instead of calming myself down, all it does is ramp me up, and the next thing I know, I’m spinning from behind the chair, landing right back in front of her.
I don’t know what it is about me and dancing, but it’s just something that has come naturally to me. I know that’s not normal for men, but for me, it is. Even though the dance lessons only lasted a few years, whenever I hear a song and feel the beat, my body takes over.
Right now, it has a mind of its own.
I roll my body, bringing my shirt up slightly to give her a tease, but not enough to get me kicked out of the bar. I take another step closer to her, letting my hips gyrate against her as I lean into her ear.
“You ready?” I ask.
I feel her shiver when my breath hits her neck. “For what?”
“You’ll see.”
I push away from her, take a few steps to turn away before dropping down and doing a backward roll, pushing myself up just slightly to sit perfectly in her lap. My dick is against her center, and my ass is against her stomach as I start basically dry humping her on this chair, my hands on the floor the only thing holding me up.
“Sweet Jesus…”
