Page 69 of The Playboy

She was perfection, and they couldn’t compete.

I weaved through the dancers, around the stages, through the patrons until I was positioned beneath her platform. I gripped the highest rung I could reach and moved in as close as I could get without climbing the ladder. She was, once again, at a height that allowed the most sensual view, my eyes meeting a pair of dark panties that unfortunately covered her pussy. But the creaminess of her inner thighs and her lean, toned legs made up for it.

“How did I know that when I sensed someone looking up my dress, it would be you?” Her eyes finally met mine as she glared at me from her perch.

I couldn’t help but smile. “You haven’t called or texted.”

“And you still dragged your ass here. I’d think you’d have taken the hint by now.” She turned her back to me and danced in the opposite direction.

“Or I assumed you liked the chase.”

“You assumed wrong,” she said over her shoulder.

The area we were in was almost like a corner pocket; the music was not as loud, so neither of us had to yell.

I gazed at her heart-shaped ass, imagining what it would feel like if I sank my cock into it. “Then, why was your skin flushed when you caught me looking up your dress?”

She whipped her head in my direction, her hands gripping her hips. “I’m hot.”

“And that’s the same reason why your pupils grew?”

“Macon … you’ve got to be kidding me …”

“And why you’re breathing harder now than you were a few minutes ago. That’s how long I’ve been watching you, Brooklyn, so I would know.”

Her eyelids narrowed, but she still refused to turn the front of her body toward me. “I—”

“And if you knew I’d come, then why are you here? There are other clubs—”

“This ismyclub.” She faced me. “I’ve been coming here long before you. The real question is, why areyouhere?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.” I pulled at the collar of my shirt, the heat from her body making me fucking sweat. “Because I want you. Because the two times I’ve had you weren’t nearly enough.”

“Bullshit.”

“Ah, she’s sassier than normal tonight.” I reached up to where she was standing to graze my fingers across her ankle, but she moved out of the way, not allowing me to. “You know, from the way you were screaming in the shower, I really thought you were going to reach out to me to give you another round.”

Her lips bared her teeth, like she was about to hunt. “I don’t need you to make me scream. I can do that on my own.”

“I don’t doubt that. But it’s not as good as me.” I licked across my bottom lip, reminding her of the strength and power of my tongue. “You remember just how good it is, and I know you want it again.”

Seconds passed before she said, “What I don’t want is a guy like you.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I feel like I’ve already made myself clear. Please listen to me this time.” She nodded toward the exit. “You can march your butt back to the hotel or LA, whichever you choose. I just don’t want you here, and I don’t want you around me.”

There was something she’d said that hit me the hardest.

Something I needed her to answer.

“A guy like me?” I waited. “What the hell does that mean?” I paused again. “I told you who I was before and how I was with women—I didn’t hide that, if that’s what you’re even referring to. But I also told you that since I met you, something inside me has changed, and I want more.”

“I don’t believe that.”

So, I was right—this was about my old ways.

“Why? I’ve given you no reason to doubt me.” When she said nothing, I added, “I’ve come here every night, Brooklyn, waiting for you to show up. If I just wanted to fuck you, do you think I’d bother doing that? I’d find a chick at the hotel to bang. I don’t want that, and I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

She moved to the edge of the stage. “You’re going to try to convince me that you’re not the biggest flirt? That women don’t drop at your feet? That you don’t fall for their advances? Because that’s something I don’t believe.”

I rubbed my teeth over my lip. “They don’t drop, that would be a little extreme.”

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