Lies That Sinners Tell (The Klutch Duet 1)

“Every man in this place has been staring at you, wondering what your pussy tastes like,” Jay murmured, his breath hot at my neck.

My entire body sung at his presence, at his proximity. His words.

“I’m the only one who gets that, though,” he said. His hands went to either side of my dress, yanking it up to my waist, exposing me to thousands of people. Or that was what it seemed like. It didn’t matter that they couldn’t see me.

I expected Jay’s fingers to find me, to touch me where I was already soaking, ready for him. Or maybe not even his fingers. He knew I was primed. He knew that he could surge right into me, rough, magnificent.

But he didn’t.

His lips started at the top of my spine. Then they moved down. Down. Until they reached my ass, his hands kneading, spreading.

I sucked in a harsh breath, unable to fathom what he was doing. It was wrong. Vulnerable. Forbidden. It didn’t matter that he’d toyed with this area before. It hadn’t ever been like this.

Before I had a chance to prepare, to brace myself, his mouth was there. Eating me.

I cried out, not expecting my pussy to clench as his tongue moved. Not expecting my body to react so violently.

Just as I was tipping over the edge, just as he was about to make me shatter with his mouth at my ass, he stopped.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t protest.

“I’m going to take your ass,” Jay warned me, standing once more, pressed against me. His fingers moved against my entrance, coated with cold lube. I had no idea where he got it from but I was thankful for it. His fingers went inside me and out. Slowly. Stretching me. Preparing me. “I’m going to take it now, with you watching the men who are thinking of doing things to you that they’ll never be able to do.” His hardness pressed against me. “Because you’re mine. Every single fucking part.

Then he moved. Then he thrust inside. Fucked my ass while I watched thousands of people dancing below, oblivious to what was happening above them.

And I absolutely loved it.

“Are you going to tell me now that I can’t dance?” I asked after I’d gone to the adjoining bathroom to clean myself up, slipped on my underwear and regained the ability to speak.

Jay wasn’t sitting at his desk, the large piece of wooden furniture no longer serving as a wall between us. He was on my side of it, leaning against it almost leisurely, eyeing me. Something about it felt like a victory. A barrier that had broken down. Or maybe that was the martinis and the post orgasm bliss.

“Baby, I just fucked your ass, hard. And you loved it. You’re mine. Every part of you. Dance. I’ll be watching,” he said. Something about his voice was different now. I surely wasn’t imagining it.

Baby.

He called me baby.

Jay had never used any kind of endearment other than ‘pet’ in the entire time I’d known this. He was not one just to let such words slip out. Warmth spread through me.

“What do you do up here?” I blurted, knowing my mistake the second the words came out of my mouth.

Questions.

I wasn’t supposed to ask them.

My stomach dropped, realizing what that single sentence might’ve done. It might’ve ruined everything. It wasn’t normal. For me to fear wanting to know more about the man who had just done that to me. To have his terms stretching so completely over me that I feared what came out of my mouth.

It wasn’t healthy, no. It was too late now, though, wasn’t it?

I waited, my palms starting to sweat as the question hung in the air.

Jay continued to watch me. “I go over the accounts,” he answered finally, after torturing me with the silence. “Make sure that all of my staff are running the place in the manner I see fit.”

“The manner you see fit?” I echoed, knowing I was pushing it. But I couldn’t stop.

“No drugs. No violence. No staff drinking. No one skimming. No one in the VIP booths trying to touch the waitresses,” he responded. “After that is done, I take care of other business.”

Other businesses. That should’ve sounded benign. Maybe even arrogant. But something about it felt foreboding.

“You don’t have another office?” I continued prodding. “In a high rise somewhere?”

“I do,” he said. “But I prefer it here. I prefer to watch people indulge in their vices. Spend too much money. Dance with someone they shouldn’t. Go home with someone they shouldn’t.”

I wanted to ask him about his other businesses. Beyond the club. And beyond whatever it was he did in that high rise office. The businesses that may have put that coldness behind his eyes, that started the rumors of him being involved with the mob, with murder.