Pregnant By My Stepbrother
But Marlene has ideas.
“Soooo, what are you going to do about it, girlfriend?”
I shrug.
“Probably nothing. Why?”
The redhead makes a face.
“Are you crazy, Lina? That guy wants you! He’s an open wallet at this point.” I roll my eyes, but my friend scolds me. “Don’t be so high and mighty, girlfriend. We’re here to make money, so don’t forget that. Come on, you have to! Besides, he’s hot and he wants you, so the stars are aligning. You have to thank him.”
I purse my lips.
“I already did.”
“No, really thank him, Lina! Oh my god, you’re so clueless!”
The thing is, I know what Marlene is getting at. We’re supposed to “work it” between sets, meaning that we’re supposed to go out and chat with customers when we’re not dancing to get them to buy over-priced drinks and maybe even a lap dance. But I hardly ever do because it just makes me feel uncomfortable, and my reluctance annoys management to no end. Unfortunately, Marlene has a point tonight, and she’s not taking no for an answer.
“Go,” she hisses, practically pushing me back through the curtains. “This is a golden opportunity, Lina. You can do it!”
Before I realize it, I’ve stumbled up to the handsome customer once more. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing, and I can’t believe this is actually happening.
“Um, hi,” I stammer.
He looks amused as that blue gaze travels from my face to my breasts, my exposed stomach, and finally to my thighs before slowly heading back up. “Hey yourself,” he drawls, setting his drink on the table.
I open my mouth to say more, but my mind goes blank. Damn. This guy is really movie-star gorgeous with his straight nose, high forehead, and sensuous mouth. His jaw is firm, and those piercing blue eyes seem to have an energy of their own. Like a bumbling schoolgirl, suddenly I have no idea what to say. I fidget uncomfortably as I try to think of something, anything, and then spot his drink on the table.
“What are you drinking?” I ask in a rush. He grins.
“Rum and Coke.”
I step closer to him, so near that my hips are inches away from his form and take his glass. Then I take a sip, my eyes never leaving his. I don’t like the taste of hard liquor, but the bartender mixed this drink just right, and the Coke has that familiar burn, cut by the dryness of the rum. I lower the glass back to the table and lick the corner of my mouth. His gaze sharpens and focuses on the darting movement.
“Did you come back here just to drink my booze?” he drawls.
I giggle. I know my face is bright red, but I hope the club is too dark for him to tell. “Maybe,” I say, “or maybe I just wanted to thank you for your tip. The booze is just a bonus.”
He nods.
“So what’s your name, sweetheart?”
I giggle. “Petal.”
The handsome man grins with amusement. “Really, Petal, hmmm? Well, I like it actually. It suits you.”
I giggle again.
“You think?”
He nods.
“In fact, I’d love to know if your skin is as soft as a petal. May I?”
I still, barely daring to breathe because his hand is poised a mere few inches above my arm. Does he want to stroke my skin? I nod, excited but also on edge. This is so alluring, yet also totally beyond my ken.
Slowly, that big bronzed hand comes down. He flips my arm over so that my wrist is exposed and gently trails his fingers over my pulse point. My heart rate goes from zero to three million in about two seconds. The blood is pounding in my ears and suddenly, the rest of the club drops away so that it’s only the two of us.
“Can we talk somewhere, Petal?” the stranger growls. “Somewhere private, I mean.”
I gaze into that commanding stare, before swallowing heavily. Then I nod and take his hand.
“I know just the place,” comes my whisper, and suddenly, I’m leading the handsome man to the private rooms in the back. Oh my god, is this really happening? But as my senses prickle and my pussy moistens, I know this is really going down, and that I want it too.
3
Lina
* * *
I take his hand in mine and slip into the back, behind a plush velvet curtain. There’s a dark hallway with fabric-covered walls, and cameras in the corners. Then, I lead him to a room in the far right corner, and usher him inside before firmly shutting the door.
The room is your standard lap dance hideaway. It’s small, but plushly decorated. There’s a velvet chaise on one side with a large couch next to it, and a red bulb gives the room a dusky glow. Curtain swags decorate a fake window because of course, there are no actual windows in the tiny space.