Dirty Vegas Nights (The Trifecta 2)

19

Axel

I feel her walk in before I see her. My body vibrates with energy. Not missing any of my steps my eyes scan the room until I find her. Emma leans against a pillar at the back of the club by the bar.

My eyes take her in, not letting go of our connection. She licks her ruby-red lips and my dick jumps in my shorts. The women around the stage scream with delight, but I don’t pay them any attention, because all of it’s on Emma. She’s wearing a tiny red dress with sexy high heels, and all I can think about is having her wrapped around me as I pound into her.

The dance lasts forever. Emma smiles, and I’m certain she’s sensing how frustrated I am being stuck on stage instead of inside her.

She smirks at me, shooting me a wink. The want to jump off the stage and throw her over my shoulder is strong. She leans her head back, her blonde hair touching her ass as she laughs at me.

When our set is over I pass by Ben and Damien, getting to the backstage as fast as I can.

“Where are you off to?” Ben asks, wiping his chest down with a towel.

“Didn’t you see Emma in the back?” Damien answers, grabbing two towels and throwing one at me.

“Is she alright? That jackass didn’t come and bother her again did he?” Ben asks. Both of my brothers look at me. I love that they care about Emma. She’s family to us now, just like Clara when she started dating Ben.

I wipe off, shaking my head. “No, I scared him pretty bad this morning. I don’t think he’ll bother her again. She didn’t seem to be worried when she walked in. She looked relaxed.”

When Ben mentioned Harrison I wanted to run out to her and cradle her. The thought of that fucker messing with her again pisses me off. But seeing how playful she was while I was dancing, I figure she isn’t here for anything but to toy with me.

“Let us know if he bothers her again. Nobody messes with the Trifectas’ women.” I slap Damien on the back in acknowledgment before heading out to find Emma.

She’s in the same spot she was while she watched me dance. I smile seeing her lean against the pillar, waving a hundred dollar bill in the air.

I lean in close, stopping myself right before kissing her. Women all around are screaming, some run their fingers over me. Emma’s nostrils flare at one woman as she rubs her tits on my back.

“Sorry, he’s mine right now. I’ve always wanted a lap dance from one of the famous Trifectas. I guess this one will have to do. Excuse us.” Emma grabs my hand, leading me around the handsy lady, to find the nearest empty chair. She plops down on it and hands me the hundred she’d been waving at me. “I’m ready for my lap dance.”

I take her hand and guide the money into my crotch. Her mouth drops open and I have to swallow the groan. Bending down, I get close to her ear. “You’re sexy when you’re possessive.”

“Well if I’m yours, doesn’t that make you mine?”

This time I can’t hold back the groan as I lean in and brush my erection in between her thighs. She moans, and her head falls back exposing her neck. My nose follows the path from her chin down to her exposed cleavage and back again.

“I’ve been yours since the moment you yelled at me for staring at these,” I say, rubbing my thumbs over the top of her breasts.

The music throbs between us and I give her the most erotic lap dance ever. The beat pulses as I dip and touch her, igniting all of her senses. It’s scandalous the way I move around her, even for an exotic dance club the movements are too much, but I don’t care. It’s taking everything I have not to bend down and swipe my tongue over her.

When the music ends, women surround us. They all have hundred dollar bills in their hands, their eyes hungry at what they just witnessed. “I’m next,” random women yell and argue.

Emma laughs a little as her chest rises and falls as if she just ran a marathon.

“See what you started.” I peer over my shoulder at the line forming behind me. Women push at each other, clamoring for a better spot.

“Just wait until tonight. I’ll finish it.” She kisses my cheek and gets off the chair for the next woman.

I smile when I see her ankles wobble, showing me she’s not as unaffected as she wants to appear.

The next three hours are torture. My hips are killing me, and Ben and Damien won’t stop laughing when I head backstage to change.

“How many did you end up giving?” Ben asks as I grab a handful of baby wipes.