Page 51 of Kayden: The Past
I didn’t want to wait a week to fuck her. Strip clubs were filled with nooks and crannies, all types of places for naughty things to happen. I was sure Angel would help me. I watched as Angel touched Carrie’s chin and winked at me before walking away. Carrie sat there, still in a fog of lust. “Been a while?” I asked as I ran my hand up her leg to her inner thigh.
She nodded her head yes. “Too fucking long. Damn, that shit was hot.”
I laughed. Some women would have been pissed off or embarrassed, but Carrie was a champ, maybe a pro, even. “Not pissed?”
“Fuck no, my panties are soaked. Wanna feel?” She grinned, parting her legs a bit farther, and my cock pulsed in my jeans wanting to break free from its confinement.
I didn’t answer but moved my hand into her skirt, and she didn’t have on any panties. I should have known. She didn’t look like the type of girl who wore panties—too sexual to want the barrier. I ran my finger through her wetness, feeling the smoothness of her skin against mine. She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of the contact. Her legs spread a little wider, and her body leaned back in the chair, her hips tilting upward in invitation. I placed two fingers against her skin and raked through the moisture pooling on my fingers. I didn’t look around. I didn’t give a fuck who watched. We were in a strip club, not a fancy restaurant.
I pushed two fingers inside of her, her body already slick, and her head fell back at the sensation. I curved my fingers upward, searching for her G-spot. I found it easily and rubbed it, moving my fingers in and out and curling them against her insides. Her legs closed, trapping my fingers in place. I leaned forward for more leverage to move inside of her. Her hands gripped the chair, and I started to rub my thumb against her clit. Her pussy clamped down on my fingers, sucking them in, holding them prisoner. I increased the pressure but kept my movements steady and unwavering. She raised her head and stared straight into my eyes as her pussy milked my finger, and she came apart with a silent “oh” on her lips. Her eyes bored into me with a look of wonderment as her chest heaved, and her breath was ragged.
“Better?” I asked with a grin as I removed my fingers from her body and slid them down her legs, leaving a trail of wetness in their wake.
“Fuck, your fingers are amazing.” She licked her lips and couldn’t take her eyes off me.
“Imagine what my cock could do.” I picked up my drink and took a sip. No one seemed to notice what had happened. If they did, they didn’t let on. They were busy watching the girls dance on the stage and the action taking place in the room.
She raised her glass to her mouth with shaky hands before taking a couple gulps of the cold liquid. “Jesus, I don’t know if I can handle you.”
“You will. Just don’t fall in love with me.”
“Love won’t be a problem,” she said quickly.
“So sure, are you?” I asked with a cocky smirk on my face. “My cock might jumble your brain, cross a few wires, and bam, you’ll love me hard.”
She almost choked on her drink with the last words out of my mouth. I knew the double meaning of the words. “Why in the hell are you single? I know I don’t want the complication. School is too important to me. But you, I just don’t get.”
I didn’t feel like vomiting my whole fucked-up life history to this girl I barely knew. “I’ve been unlucky with women. I always seem to pick the wrong ones to commit myself to. So now, I want the physical without the hassle.”
“Eh, we’ve all been unlucky. No one has the fairy tale we read about as children, at least not easily. Have to walk through the shit to appreciate the good. At least, that’s what my mom used to tell me.” She shrugged her shoulders and twirled the straw in her mouth. “Wanna get out of here and go somewhere else?”
“Someplace more private? I thought this was supposed to be just a meeting and getting to know each other thing.”
“No, big guy, you kind of ruined that when you stuck your fingers in me. I want to walk around and get a drink. I never like to stay in one place too long. Game? See where the night takes us.”
Her plan sounded promising, and strip clubs weren’t my scene anymore. They left a bad taste in my mouth. New Orleans had too much to see and experience to sit in a titty bar. “I’m game for anything, always have been. I’m kind of like Nike—just do it.”
“I’m hoping your motto is closer to Energizer—it keeps going. And going. And going.” She winked at me.
“Just remember Timex took my phrase—takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’,” I laughed. She was a smart girl; at least she had her head in the right spot, college before a relationship. A degree was something you could always depend on, unlike a partner.
“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s jet.” She stood up and placed her drink on the table and ran her fingertips around the rim before sticking her fingers in her mouth and sucking on them. My cock twitched, watching her suck on her fingers with her eyes closed. “Kayden and I are heading outside. You all wanna come, or you stayin’ here?” she asked her friends.
The girls looked at each other and made a couple facial expressions I didn’t fucking understand. Women had more silent signals than a man could learn in a lifetime. “My feet are killing me. We’ll stay here and enjoy the ladies and the guys if they want to stay, too.” The guys heard those words, and their faces were all smiles. They’d acted like they weren’t interested in the girls the entire night and played it cool, but it was all a bullshit game. The guys didn’t match the girls. They didn’t hang on the same ladder rung of beauty, but I knew the guys would buy drinks, and possibly after enough, they would start to look better. But even then, it was a stretch.
“You guys staying here, too?” I asked, looking at them and not really needing their answer. They were as transparent as the condom in my pocket.
“Yeah, we’ll meet up with you later,” Mark said as he tipped his chin to me as if saying they had this shit. Hardly, but I guess a guy could dream.
“Come on, doll. Let’s hit the town. Where’s the first stop?” I stood up and threw a fifty on the table. I knew it was way too much, but what the fuck, why not. Women didn’t like cheap bastards.
“Pat O’Brien’s. I want a Hurricane, and they have the most amazing courtyard.” She grabbed her purse off the back of the chair, and I followed her toward the door.
“How old are you, Carrie, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I don’t mind. I’m twenty-two, and you?” she asked as we finally found our way through the club exit.
“I’m in my early thirties. Can we leave it at that? I feel kind of dirty now that I know you’re so young.”
