A Dance for Him Read Free

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    “I’m glad you introduced her to us, Caleb,” I interject imperiously before he can continue, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he’d declared earlier he was going to book her for himself and Brandon. “Because she’s quite charming. So, Ms. Tiffany, I’d like to see you in the VIP room. Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.”
    She’s looking at me, wide-eyed. I’d like to say that I see unmixed relief on her face but I’m not sure what it is that I do see.
    She’s clearly glad not to have to stay here in Caleb’s presence, but there’s something else more complicated, I don’t quite know what exactly. A sort of distance.
    I almost feel like now there’s a wall between us that never was there in the past …
    Or perhaps she’s just trying to remain professional. Which is more than I can say for myself, ha!
    A fine professor I’m being, indeed.
    Caleb was looking too stunned by my interruption to say anything, but now that I’ve snatched her out from under his nose and she’s just about to lead me off to the VIP room, I can see him start to glower.
    “Well, someone clearly has a crush,” I hear him say mockingly behind us, to the scattered laughter of the others.
    Fuck them.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
     

    I can’t bring myself to look at him as I lead him to the VIP room. I have no idea how I even want to look at him.
    Of course I’m relieved to not be around the creepy guy. Fuck, I don’t know what I would have done if Mr. Creep bought a lap dance right there, so that I’d have to grind against him in front of Dr. Morland. That would be gross. I’d never be able to look him in the eye ever again.
    Instead, I’m going to get to grind against Dr. Morland himself. Gorgeous, smoking hot Dr. Morland. Maybe I’ll feel his manly hardness against my body as I rub up on him. I’ve fantasised about this so long, and now I’m finally getting to do it.
    And yet I feel vaguely queasy about the whole thing, even as my insides are clenching in excitement at the thought of making him come in his expensive jeans. Perhaps it’s because I never wanted him to know about my job at the club, never expected to see him in the club.
    Never expected to see him in a place like this, period.
    Fuck, I really didn’t think he was the type. That was a huge part of his charm. I knew a rich, attractive man like him would probably have what one could euphemistically call a “bachelor existence”, but I was thinking in terms of lots of girlfriends, with maybe the occasional one-night-stand pick-up.
    I wasn’t thinking that he’d be just like all the rest of the guys here …
    I mean, a man like him must have tons of women after him. Seriously. I’m sure he could easily pick up some supermodel type in a bar, why bother with a place like this? It’s true he was with a stag party, but he certainly knows his way around a strip club if the first thing he’s asking for is time in the VIP room.
    Who knows how many VIP rooms he’s been in, how many private dances he’s paid for?
    I wonder if he’s ordered up the infamous “extras” as well in the past …
    The irritating thing is that my body is betraying me, even as my romantic delusions are evaporating in short order.
    It might be because of the stilettos, but I find myself still swivelling my hips seductively as I walk down the long hallway in front of him, to the most private room I can find.
    Of course, that’s the way I always walk when I’m leaving his office, just so I can induce him to blurt out that “it’s very good to see you, Ms. Lytton.”
    I mean, not that I think he doesn’t feel that way in general about me, but I find it highly suspicious that he always seems to say that when he’s standing behind me, looking at me as I wiggle my butt winsomely on my way out …
    Okay, yeah, I guess I still want him to look at me, even if I’m kind of disappointed to see him here. Why not? It’s my job