Reminding myself that I’m a professional, I head to the back and redress in my regular clothes, anxious to get out of this strip club and regroup. That was a rollercoaster of emotions, and my body is still feeling aftershocks from those two incredible climaxes. A long bath and rich red wine are definitely in my future. And of course daydreams of Carter, as usual.
Carter
Walking out of the private room, I’m in a total daze. What the fuck was that? I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything like that in my entire life. My body is still on fire from Destiny’s touch. I want more. So much more.
And I don’t even know what to do with that. Never have I once wanted more from a girl once she got me off. One and done, basically. I don’t even think about them after it’s over. If I think hard enough, I might be able to remember one or two girls over the years that stood out from the hundreds. Maybe. Then again, I don’t think anyone has ever been that memorable. Not compared to what I just experienced with Destiny.
I need to find a way to get more of her.
As I make my way back through the strip club, Chase comes up and slaps me on the back.
“Dude, you didn’t have sex with her.” He sounds shocked. I’m not sure why he would be after five years of this. But I have to say, I’m a bit shocked too. I wanted to. So fucking bad.
“How do you know?” I mean, I know he said it was constant filming from here on out, but I didn’t see a camera anywhere in that room. And I looked. Especially when thoughts of slipping my dick in Destiny’s sweet pussy were teasing at the corners of my brain.
Chase laughs. “We had a webcam in the box of condoms. Don’t get me wrong, all of that was crazy hot. It'll make great TV. I’m just surprised you didn’t give in.” He shrugs. “Oh well.”
Part of me wants to ask why he’s so surprised. He knows how committed I am to making it to the end of the season. To claiming my two billion dollars that I’ve earned. I mean, all this self-denial definitely warrants that kind of bonus. But I don’t ask because all I can focus on is Destiny.
I scan the club, looking for her. I need to talk to her before we leave. I can’t just walk away. What if I never see her again? Unacceptable.
Just then, I see a flash of blonde hair headed toward the exit of the club. Destiny.
I run after her, totally ignoring Chase calling after me. I don’t give a fuck what he’s saying right now. I need to catch Destiny before she leaves.
I reach her just as she starts to walk outside. Stretching out my hand, I clasp my fingers around her wrist.
“Destiny!”
She gasps and whirls around, her blue eyes wide, her hair floating around her face like some kind of halo. Like a fucking angel. A very naughty angel.
“Oh, hi,” she says, her voice coming out in a low whisper. “It’s you.”
She tries to pull her hand away, but I tighten my grip. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?” I tease.
She doesn’t say anything, just gives me a look that I don’t quite understand.
With the hand not holding on to her, I pull my phone from my pocket and unlock it. “What’s your number, baby? I can’t let you just walk out of here with no way to find you again.”
Destiny glan
ces around the club like she’s looking for something, then tilts her head toward the open doorway. I follow her out, never releasing my grip on her soft wrist.
Once we’re outside, she still doesn’t look any less uncomfortable. She’s looking all around as if she thinks we’re being filmed, which of course, we probably are.
“Look, Destiny,” I say, moving in close to her, feeling an urge to pull her up against me and take that look of discomfort away from her. What the fuck is that about? “Now that your bit in the show is over and your work for ABN is done, I’d really like to get to know you.”
She lifts her head and searches my eyes. “What do you mean?”
I give her a slow smile. I mean all kinds of things. But I start with something simple. “Just that I really enjoyed my time with you tonight and I’d like to know more about you, separate from Head Hunter.”
She looks all around again and licks her lips nervously. I’m not quite sure what she’s thinking, but as long as she’s willing to not walk out of my life forever right now, I’m good with whatever it is.
Looking back at me, I can’t get any kind of read on her. Her face is blank, her eyes are like a mask, and I can’t tell if she’s even slightly interested. When she shrugs casually, I wonder if I totally misread what went on in the private room because I sure as hell got the impression that I wasn’t just some client.
“Fine,” she says quickly, grabbing my phone from me and typing in her number, and then hands it back to me, and starts to turn away.
“Hang on,” I say, holding the phone up to snap a picture of her. “For your contact,” I say when she arches a brow. Or for my spank bank. But she doesn’t need to know that.