Burn Down the Night (Everything I Left Unsaid #3)- Molly O'Keefe Page 0,33
it didn’t work, if he refused, he was still chained to the bed.
I could find another way.
Resolved, I reached behind my neck and pulled the tie to my bikini top, but I kept my hands over my breasts, taking my time with the show. Max was still gripping his cock in his free hand, but he wasn’t jacking it. His eyes were bright, his cheeks flushed. I’d never seen him quite like this, and it was a huge turn-on. He was powerful and vulnerable all at once.
That wet spot on my bikini bottoms got bigger.
I dropped my hand and the cups from my bikini fell to my waist.
“Fuck,” Max groaned. “I want to come all over those tits.”
I smoothed my hands over them, touching myself the way I know looked good, holding them up for him. A show. For him.
A breath of cool air blew over my body. Not the air conditioner, but a memory. The past few months at the strip club. Outside of that one dance for him in the front row, none of that had been sexy to me. The show for men’s eyes. The falseness of it.
I eased away from my own excitement, and it was a relief in a way. To not be invested in this situation. To give him what he wanted, so I could get what I wanted. A transaction.
Yes, better. Better than something authentic. Better than showing him something real, the ragged edges of my own self. Only showing him what I liked, what I wanted, so he couldn’t find a way to use it against me.
I turned and pushed down the bottoms of my suit, showing him my ass, my pussy—all smooth because that was what made money.
Yeah, I thought. Think of that. Think of all those waxing appointments, holding my buttcheek so some girl could wax my asshole. Nothing sexier than THAT.
I was drifting further and further away from myself, and I could almost hear the heavy bass line of that Bruno Mars song I often danced to.
I ran my fingers over the fat lips of my pussy. Dry now, because I was no longer interested. I flipped my hair over my shoulder and looked back at him, my bottom lip between my teeth.
He no longer had his cock in his hand and his eyes, when they looked at me, were cold.
I spread my legs wider, so he could see more. I licked my finger, using my spit as lubrication to slide it into my body.
“Stop,” he said.
“I don’t want to,” I said in a breathy moan.
He rolled his eyes. “I know when a woman is faking it, Joan.”
I stood up, leaning back against the dresser. Don’t get angry, I told myself. He’s playing with you.
“I’m not faking it,” I breathed at him, hopping up onto the dresser and spreading my legs wide. I was so fucking naked. So uncomfortably naked and he wasn’t even looking at me anymore.
“Fuck you, Max!” I said, angry despite all my warnings.
“No, fuck you, Joan. I’m a man. Not a boy—a man. And I don’t need you putting on some fake show for me.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I jumped down, grabbed my suit, and pulled on the bottoms.
“You weren’t into that.”
“Yes, I was.”
“Jesus, Joan, I’m handcuffed to a bed. How about we cut the lies.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Like you care whether or not I enjoyed that.”
“Clearly,” he gestured at his dick which had gone limp in his underwear, “I do.”
“You can’t pretend you don’t want me,” I said. “I won’t believe it. You’ve been eye-fucking me for months at the club.”
“And you’ve been eating that shit up,” he spat back at me. “You think I didn’t see you watching me?”
“That’s right,” I said with a smirk. We were throwing hand grenades at each other. Not caring if we blew ourselves up in the process, as long as the other one got hit. “I’ve been watching you and fucking allll the girls.”
His cheeks were bright, his eyes were sharp, and they were right back on me. Where I wanted them. I felt like I had control if he was watching me.
“And what have you been doing?” I asked. “Everyone knows you don’t touch the dancers. No one sees you with anyone. Not ever. So, we’ve been watching each other for months and I fuck who I want to fuck and you…what? Jerk off?”
“Fuck you,” he said with just a little too much heat. And that was all the answer