tease.
Clever Penny.
Sebastian watches me as I melt for him, showing him what I want. What I can be. I notice him shift in his seat and I wonder if he’s hard for me.
“Get it, girl!” Penny cheers and motions for me to repeat the step on the other side. My boa trails along the floor as I turn, the beat pulsing in time with my heart. I bend again. Sebastian shifts, as if on cue.
Take what you want. It’s your time now.
Then the song is over and Penny claps. Reality floods me—I’ve just shown about a hundred strangers a very close glimpse of my knickers. But instead of feeling ashamed or embarrassed or shocked, I’m high on it. I’m buzzing.
Penny plants a kiss on my cheek that will no doubt leave behind a perfect imprint of glittering red, and then she spanks me on the butt with a saucy farewell. I almost teeter down the steps. Is it possible to be drunk from dancing? From lights?
Sebastian’s eyes are glued to mine as I head back to our seat. The audience is chanting at me, cheering my name. I get to the seat and it’s like I’ve been overtaken by some sexual force. I want him. I want him so bad I’m not willing to wait another second to make my intentions absolutely clear.
He’s still in the spread sitting position, as if challenging me to make a move. He thinks I won’t do it; I can see that cocky glint in his eyes. It’s like we’re playing a game of chicken. Like we’re coaxing fire.
I reach the seat and drop down next to him. For a brief moment, I see relief in his eyes. He thinks he’s won this battle.
He’s wrong.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sebastian
BEFORE I CAN figure out what is going on, Presley leans into me and grabs my face with both hands. Then she rises up onto her knees, body pressed into my side, and kisses me. Her lips are hot and open, her tongue delving into my mouth in such a curious and sensual way, I can’t help but respond on instinct.
Behind us, the room erupts in whoops and cheers. But it’s all I can do to hang on for dear life, while the hottest woman I have ever laid eyes on fucks me with her tongue. I grab a handful of her hair and wrest her head back, trying to regain some control. But it’s a farce. I’m lost. She has me—vulnerable, needy. Desperate.
She’s in control here and it’s hot enough to make me almost blow in my pants. When was the last time a woman took my control and snapped it in two, rendering me no better than a teenage boy? I don’t know if that’s ever happened.
Seeing her on that stage, writhing like she was showing me exactly how she wants to be touched, to be loved... Fuck. It was enough to have my head spinning and dick singing hallelujah. But this...this is real. Her lips move against mine, her hands roaming my chest. When she breaks away, cheeks flushed and eyes wild like a storm, it’s all I can do not to push her down to the couch and tell the rest of the room to bugger off so I can have her.
“Wow.”
“Wow, indeed.” I brush a loose strand of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. “You were phenomenal up there.”
Her pale eyes sparkle. “And down here?”
“Even better.”
The lights dim and the burlesque show continues. Two other dancers join Penny La Perle on the stage, and they perform a perfectly timed routine. But I can’t concentrate on the show. Presley’s hand is in mine, fingers intertwined, her thumb moving back and forth across my skin. Her edginess is intoxicating. Contagious.
She leans into me, her lips at my ear. “I want you.”
I bite back a groan. If it wasn’t already completely bloody obvious by the fact that my cock is tenting my pants, I also want her. But it’s a bad idea. A terrible, no-good, certain-to-lead-to-my-demise idea.
“Now,” she clarifies. “I want you now.”
I raise a brow. “Right now?”
She nods. “Well, I’ve wanted you since last night but...now it’s serious.”
Her face is so earnest my lips twitch, wanting to smile. But I’ve encouraged her—this—enough. “Presley, I...”
Just say it already. “Presley, us sleeping together is only going to make more trouble than it’s worth.”
But my brain immediately refutes that logic. I know sex with Presley will be good enough to warrant any amount of familial backlash.