The other girls left too, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Were they right? Did he feel the same way about me as I did about him? Did I turn Shane on? I rolled my eyes at myself. I was being stupid. I didn’t care if he watched me dance because nothing would ever happen between us.
***
For the rest of the night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Rachel and Candy had said. And, sure enough, when I’d danced, I’d glimpsed Shane in the shadows watching every move I’d made.
I’d ended my routine in the splits like I always had, and I was sure I left a mark on the stage floor because I had been so turned on picturing his eyes on my body.
Saturdays had always been a profitable one for me. But tonight, I’d cleaned up and made five grand—the most I’d ever made in a single night. Wads of money lay on my kitchen table in bundles of ones, fives, tens, and twenties. Admittedly, I’d been pissed when Johnny said he was selling the club to Shane and his partners, but it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened.
There was no way I could have afforded the renovations they’d carried out. If I’d taken over, The Bachelor would still resemble a seedy strip joint instead of a high-class, members-only establishment.
The other girls were ecstatic, and everyone’s profits were up. The bar staff and waitresses were rolling in tips.
After putting my earnings in the safe beneath my bed, I removed my makeup and stepped into the shower. Once again, my thoughts drifted back to Shane. I didn’t want to think about him. I didn’t want to fantasize about him. But the jerk was in my thoughts twenty-four seven. When I wasn’t thinking about him, I dreamed about him.
Beating water hit off my breasts, and bolts of electricity zeroed in on my clit. I groaned, the deep sound ricocheting off the tiled walls.
I brushed my fingers over my soaped-up nipples. Closing my eyes, I allowed my mind to wander. If he were here with me, what would he do? What kind of lover would he be? Was he soft and gentle? Kind and caring? Or was he controlling and demanding, selfishly taking what he wanted? I hoped he was a mixture of both.
My hands drifted lower. I opened my legs, exposing my clit to the shower spray. My channel clenched, aching for Shane’s cock.
Reaching up, I set the spray pattern to jet and removed the showerhead from its holder. Sitting down on the tiled floor, I spread my legs and aimed the pulsing water at my clit.
My hips lifted, and my back arched. I imagined Shane between my thighs. His head buried between my legs. His tongue stabbing my pussy.
My thighs quivered at the intensity of the sensations flooding my body. My hands trembled, and my inner walls clamped hard.
Every muscle in my body tightened. The pressure inside me increased until I felt I would explode from the intense pressure. I focused on my clit and found the one spot that always sent me tumbling.
My hand shook so much, I barely kept the spray where I needed it most. In what seemed like slow motion, I fell into the abyss. Shane’s name whispered from my lips over and over and over again. I dropped the showerhead and slammed my fingers inside my pussy, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy me.
I needed more.
I needed him.Chapter Five - ShaneI sat at my desk, studying the security monitors. We’d owned the place for just under a month, and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, the others had been right. The strip club was a gold mine. We would break even within the year. After that, we would start making a profit.
My partners came here when they wanted to let off steam or to watch the dancers shake their tits and asses. To them, owning The Bachelor was this stuff of dreams. To me, it was business. I ignored the voice in my head calling me a liar.
If it was only business, then why did I spend my time thinking about Red Velvet? The woman haunted my dreams. I stayed as far away from her as I could, but I left my office most nights when she took the stage.
I couldn’t bear to watch her when she gave lap dances. I couldn’t bear the sight of her gyrating in front of other men. Her shift was due to end soon, but she was dancing for a bachelor party right now. They hadn’t balked at the astronomical fee she charged. Because there were so many of them, she’d negotiated a thousand dollars for ten minutes of her time. Alyssa knew her worth.
I watched her flirt and giggle with the groom. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to swallow down my jealousy. She wasn’t mine, and I had to remember that.