Page 3 of Infatuate Me

“I think I prefer you like this,” he comments, his eyes roaming over my face as I wonder what on earth he means.

“What?”

He reaches his hand out and brushes a few strands of hair from my face as he says, “Natural.”

I’m frozen in place by his actions. What the fuck?

“I’ll see you soon,” he says, before he turns and walks away, disappearing back into the shadows and leaving me feeling like I’ve imagined the whole thing.

Chapter Four

DOMINIC

I don’t know what came over me, going to her like that, but as I sit in my car and watch her from a distance as she gets into hers, I know that whatever fuelled me to go to her tonight isn’t going to disappear. Because as wrong as it is, I’ll be coming back here, you mark my words.

Carrie Anderson is alluring, even if she is taboo.

Chapter Five

CARRIE

“That’s it, baby, work it, work it,” Earl shouts from the front of the stage as I show him my new routine for tonight. It’s been three days since Dominic showed up here, and I’m still perplexed over his words, but I’m guessing it was just a spur of the moment thing and now he’s come to his senses. He won’t be back, I’m sure of it.

I laugh as Earl joins me on the stage, body popping to the beat as I wrap up my routine. He’s the best, the most fun, and I’m thankful that he came into my life and is one of my closest friends.

“Ooooo, girl, they’re gonna go nuts for you later. Get ready to earn that crust,” he says before he sashays his way back off the stage, ready to watch the next girl’s performance.

I feel good as I take a seat at the bar and Jean brings me over a cold glass of water, with ice and lemon.

“Thanks, Jean,” I tell him as I drink the cool liquid and watch the next girl start to perform.

“No problem,” Jean says, a smile on his face as he continues to prep the bar for tonight.

I watch as Debs performs her routine, and my mind wanders to how Dominic affected me three nights ago. I went to bed thinking about him, about his eyes on me, and about what he would do if he were to want me in that way. I ended up getting myself off, picturing him watching me, devouring me, eating me. I squeeze my thighs together on the stool as I imagine it all over again, and I down the rest of my water and make my way back to the changing room.

No good will come from thinking about him in that way, and I make a promise to myself that if I ever visit my father’s place and see him there, then I will just quickly say hello and excuse myself from his company, because now he knows what I do, there would be no stopping the blush that would stain my cheeks.

* * *

I finish my nightly routine, and I feel all kinds of wired as I go to the changing room, ready to put on my outfit for working the floor tonight. I decided to stay and pick up some extra cash, if only to keep my mind busy and off of one man in particular. I don’t know why I’m letting him invade my thoughts so fucking much. It’s unnerving.

I put on my clean underwear set, black with pink bows, along with a skirt that is so short you can see my arse cheeks and a pair of high black stilettos, to make my legs look longer. I’m not the tallest, and most men seem to like long legs, so needs must.

I leave my hair down, the loose curls framing my face, and I apply a fresh coat of makeup before I make my way back out to the main part of the club to work the floor.

I prowl around, making sure each table is comfortable and have enough drinks. It’s table service here, only the best for the rich fuckers, because God forbid they get off their arses and walk to the bar.

I approach the fifth table of the evening, at the back, well away from the stage, one man sitting on his own, and fuck, I know it’s him instantly.

Again, I falter at his presence like I did the other night, but I quickly regain myself and hold my head high, my shoulders pushed back, and my mind spurring me on to show I’m not affected by him.

“Can I get you a drink?” I ask sweetly, as a fake smile crosses my face. His dark eyes drink me in, and I feel my panties becoming wet from that alone. Fuck.

“Scotch on the rocks,” he says, and I nod before I make my way to the bar and order the drink for him. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away, and I sway my hips a little more, because if he’s going to try and make me feel weird by him being here then I’m going to hit him right back. Two can play that game.

I wait for his drink and tell the bar staff his table number, so they can put it on his tab for the evening, and then I make my way back over to him, his eyes following my every move. I place the drink down on his table and say, “Anything else I can get for you?”

“Yes, actually,” he says as he picks up his glass and takes a sip. “You.”

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