SIX: A Men of the Strip Anthology Page 11

  “I’m just saying.” She hooked a shoulder. “I’ll have to roll your pants a million times for them to fit, but I guarantee that shirt is long enough to cover the goods.”

  “What if I don’t want them covered?” I asked and immediately she puckered her lips in a chastising fashion.

  “Don’t start…”

  “Baby, you started it long ago.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault I got soaked on my way up here.”

  “I’m not talking about tonight, I mean from the first night I saw you,” I countered, stalking to where she stood in the blink of an eye, my arms holding her captive against the wall. “You have no idea how badly you got me sprung, do you?”

  Vida gulped, her body trembling in my grasp as she shook her head. It never ceased to amaze me how quickly I could spike her heart rate.

  “Are you sure it’s not just ‘oops, I fucked my client and happen to like her pussy’ syndrome?”

  “When it comes to you? No. I’ll admit I’ve bagged plenty of chicks from that club, but I’ve never liked any of them enough to want only their pussy. I hadn’t even been inside you yet and I was already losing my fucking marbles over you.”

  I can’t believe I just admitted that…

  “Can I be honest?” Her question came softly.

  “Always.”

  “I’ve never felt this before, Jagger, with anyone—not even my ex-husband. It’s scary as hell, crazy-fast too, and my brain keeps telling me this is nothing more than a disaster waiting to happen. But I’m so addicted to it, I can’t seem to find one good reason to let this fizzle out.”

  Her concession left me speechless. Reeling. I didn’t know how to respond. But after taking one good look at her, I was quick to throw out my demand, fueled by renewed purpose and a deep sense of propriety.

  “Take your clothes off, Vida…”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just do it,” I murmured, the slight bite in my tone setting everything in motion.

  Unzipping her charcoal gray pencil skirt from behind, I watched it pool at her feet. Then her thong. And then her bra. Any other woman would’ve stood there awkwardly, but not Vida. Unashamed in her skin, she gave me a once-over that screamed you’re over-dressed, so I yielded to her demand, stripping free of my clothes too.

  I’d never felt more exposed and yet somehow, so powerful too. On top of the fucking world. Scooping her up in my arms, I shut the door to my room, and discarded her on my bed, a bed no woman had ever been in because I hadn’t allowed it. Not even Calla had been in this bed. Feeling the mattress dip from our weight as I loomed over her was almost unreal, an out of body experience I was watching from somewhere else in the room.

  “What are you doing,” Vida whispered as I placed soft, wet kisses anywhere within reach.

  “Showing you why letting this fizzle out shouldn’t be an option,” I growled, sinking into her heat raw and so fucking effortlessly, I almost busted my load on the spot.

  She arched off the bed beneath me, lacing her fingers though mine as I raised her hands above our heads, driving into her unhurriedly with deep precise strokes that filled her to capacity. Those little mewls and moans going off in my ear made it damn near impossible to last as long as I wanted to. She just sounded so fucking sexy, panting my name, begging for more, her pussy squeezing me like a vise.

  Taking one of her pretty pink nipples between my teeth, I lashed my tongue across it, groaning at the feel of her in my mouth. Vida’s tits were legitimately the perfect pillows, not too big but big enough for me to lay my head on them and pass out. They were fun to play with too—so squishy and soft and ugh...fucking perfection. Just like the rest of her.

  “Still thinking about letting this go?” I asked as her legs locked around my waist.

  “No.”

  “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

  “No,” she breathed out again.

  “Good, now come for me, baby,” I demanded, easing off her to grip her thighs and plow into her harder than before.

  Faster.

  Deeper.

  Each stroke amplified the intensity of her moans, especially when I swiped my thumb along her clit. Eyes hitting the back of her head, she brought a hand to her mouth and bit down on two fingers, her other hand clawing at the sheet in attempt to quell herself. Despite the fact Mila could wake up, I kept on, racing us both to the finish line because we were right fucking there. And as soon as her cunt was suffocating my dick, I threw my head back in ecstasy, spurting my release deep inside her with only one thing on my mind.

  How I could do this forever.

  With Vida and only Vida.

  8

  “If you were trying to ensure you’d hook me forever, you definitely did it now,” I said to Vida, groaning around the last bite of lasagna on my plate. “You’ll never get rid of me now.”

  She laughed softly, shaking her head in the same lifeless fashion she’d done all night. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Like it? I’m in looove.”

  “Well, there’s plenty for you to take home,” she added, rising from her seat, her hand outstretched for my plate.

  Shooing her away with a playful tap to her wrist, I stood upright and followed her into the kitchen of her apartment. Something was off tonight and I couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

  You’re damn sure I was going to find out though.

  “What’s up with you today?” I asked as she turned the faucet on and squeezed some soap onto a sponge.

  “Nothing…”

  “Vida—you know that’s not gonna cut it, baby. Tell me,” I hedged, setting my plate in the sink from behind her.

  But she shook her head and waved me off dismissively.

  “Just ignore me. I swear this is me over-thinking. I’ll get over it.”

  “What are you over-thinking?”

  “This. Us.”

  I stilled at her back, not expecting her to throw that out after last weekend. The way she said it had a sting to it too, though I don’t think it was intentional. Taking the sudsy sponge from her grasp, I set it back in its little tray, shut off the tap, and spun her around with a quickness. The worry furrowing her brows didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Why?” I had to ask and thankfully her need to hesitate was short-lived.

  “I told you the other night, Jag. I’m scared, okay? How did this happen? When? I mean, all I did was blink and I could never unblink you again. How is what I’m feeling normal?”

  “Because I feel it too.”

  “Are you sure? Do you really feel it? ’Cause I’m over here trying to convince myself that this is real, that I could actually feel anything remotely like this in what feels like happened overnight.”

  “Trust me,” I reassured her, nodding surely. “It’s real as fuck. That’s why I want it.”

  She watched me warily for a moment, raking a hand through her hair. “This is crazy…”

  What’s crazy is how much of a bitch doubt was. How could one emotion hold the power to destroy the best things in our lives? It’d already robbed me of so much time with my daughter by haunting Calla.

  I wasn’t letting that happen again.

  Winding an arm at her waist, my hand clasping her chin, I regarded her intently.

  “Why is how fast or slow something happens such a big stressor for you? Can’t you just accept the fact some people experience things”—kiss—“things of greater magnitude faster than others? We’ve known each other what, almost two months now, and I’m still here, right?”

  “That’s what I question most,” she whispered.

  “What? Why I’m still here?”

  A little nod.

  I sighed, but not angrily. “I told you this already. I just want you. And it’s not some low key thing.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I can’t explain it, Vida. You’ve turned my world upside down, but all in good ways. After Calla, I lived up the single life. Never wanted to be with one person ag
ain. But since you happened, this,” I motioned between her and I, “us, whatever you want to call it, I only want you. Seeing you last weekend in my home, while Mila was there, watching you two giggle and play as I made breakfast, that’s all I want. It’s all I need…”

  Bang, bang, bang!

  What the hell?

  Vida looked as confused as I felt at the sudden intrusion, her hand falling flat at my chest to squeeze past me. She inched up on her tip-toes and looked through the peep hole, her eyes darting to mine nervously when she eased away, no words exchanged. With a quick flip of the locks, she pulled the door open and wedged herself between the jamb.

  “What are you doing here?” I heard her ask whoever stood on the other side.

  Her visitor cleared his throat—yes, his, as in another man—and then he said, “I was cleaning out the cellar when I found this.”

  “Okay, and the point would be?”

  “It just brought back such good memories. I figured maybe you’d want to share it with me once you saw it. You know I’d never be able to drink this with anyone but you,” he added the last bit in a rush.

  As I stood in the kitchen, listening to their hushed conversation play out, the light bulb went off in my head. Dude at the door was her ex-husband, Carl. It had to be and the fact he would not let up in his feat to reclaim her, put me in an instantly foul mood. How often did he drop by? Did she ever let him in? Had they been together since their divorce? Does he knew anything about me? The possibility that he had no clue I existed only served to irritate me further, regardless of the fact I didn’t really have the right to be. The point is, though, I was and as this keen sense of propriety took a hold of me too, I couldn’t stop myself from what happened next, especially when Vida seemed to be growing more and more agitated at the fact that he wouldn’t fucking leave.

  Stalking over to where they conversed, I pulled open the door a ways more and made myself visible behind Vida. The moment she felt me, her body went rigid and she sucked in a deep breath.

  “You know, I was trying to be respectful of boundaries and all that good shit—something you obviously don’t seem to know how to do,” I cocked my head to the side, “but when you come banging down my date’s door and interrupt my time with said date, I lose any interest in being considerate. Showing up at her door two years a little too late, don’t ya think so, boss?”

  “Who the hell are you?” he asked through a growl, brown eyes narrowing into tiny slits.

  Fucker was big as hell, maybe a few years older than me, but I could give three shits.

  “I’m the new guy and you should probably get used to seeing me around if you’re gonna make it a habit to drop by unannounced.”

  “She’s my wife, I think I’m allowed to be here whenever I want.”

  “Uhhh, I think you mean ex-wife. She’s your ex and now, she’s mine, so as much as watching yet another feeble attempt to wi—“

  “Okay, enough,” Vida snapped, pushing me back. “Carl, you need to go, seriously. Please don’t just show up again, in fact, don’t show up at all. You need to accept we’ve been over for a long time and no matter how hard you try, I’m not coming back. Have a good night.”

  Click.

  Oh yes she did. Right in his face which in turn drifted a huge smile drifted across mine. I started toward her, my arms outstretched to scoop her up.

  “You just crushed his ego, baby. I’m so—“

  “Shut up, Jagger, just shut up,” she ranted, shaking her hands in frustration.

  I stopped dead in my tracks like a deflating balloon. “What the hell did I do?”

  “That,” she motioned to the door, “that’s what you did!”

  “I was helping you get rid of him.”

  “No, you were pissing all over me, hoping to intimidate him. It’s bad enough he’s after me on a regular basis, now he’s probably going to harass me. Do you know how unnecessary all that was? What was the point of it all?”

  Shit.

  Shrugging, I combed a hand through my hair. “I thought him seeing me might help him realize you’ve moved on.”

  “Well, you thought wrong. I may be over him but I don’t remember asking for your help. I’m a big girl, Jagger, I know how to take care of myself. Have some damn manners and stop assuming you can just make decisions for people.”

  “Vida, I’m sorry, I had no idea…” I trailed off as she lifted a hand.

  “Save it, seriously. Just go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Go, as in leave,” she stated, holding open the door.

  My heart dropped a little. Then my stomach churned. Had I known my actions would’ve lead to this I never would have left the kitchen.

  “Seriously, baby? I’m sorry!”

  “Don’t baby me, Jag. Just go. I need space.”

  “For how long?” I asked, dragging my ass out when I realized there was no talking my way out of this one.

  “Maybe forever.”

  And then I, too, had that damn door shut right in my face.

  9

  I was a mess.

  And this time it was far worse than my break-up with Calla. Only Vida and I hadn’t actually called it quits if you really think about it. All she’d said was she needed space, the time-frame undeterminable and non-negotiable.

  The outcome didn’t seem promising though, if you asked me.

  She wasn’t responding to my texts.

  Continuously screened my calls.

  Wouldn’t return my voicemails.

  I didn’t know what to do and honestly, I didn’t know how much more I could take. It’d been almost a month and I was on the verge of turning to alcohol again. I know, I know, bad decision, but the drink helped numb young Jag when he needed it, and I really fucking needed it. Was it so awful that I just wanted to forget? Erasing her from my memories was infinitely better than tormenting myself with that why’s and the what if’s.

  Don’t worry, the boys didn’t let me anywhere near the bar during my shifts, though, and Betty snuck me no more than two shots, so it wasn’t exactly the easiest coping method to grab a hold of anyway.

  Plus, allowing myself to reach that point would only prove I’d hit rock bottom, and I didn’t exactly think picking myself up from that downward spiral would be as easy as it was last time. Even if Vida had never really been mine, this shit hurt a hell of a lot more than watching the mother of my child walk away.

  Why?

  Because what I felt for her was real and raw. To me, she was mine. When I held her, when I kissed her, touched her, made love to her...she was mine.

  Obviously I was very wrong.

  That’s why losing Vida hadn’t just fucked me up mentally. I was struggling at work too, unable to reconnect with the panty-melting stripper the ladies expected to see when they scrambled to their seats. My routines were half-assed, VIP was even worse. Betty had also threatened to fire me on one occasion.

  But that didn’t kick my ass into gear either.

  I just wasn’t feeling it and I couldn’t help but wonder if SIX was next to go down the drain too.

  After another robotic routine I barely remembered, the boys and I congregated in the dressing room as always. They were hyped, laughing and fucking around with not a care in the world while I sat off to the side, sipping my Red Bull in a daze. They’d grown so accustomed to my new reserved self, none of them bothered asking what was up my ass anymore since I never shared. So when they started out the door to head back into the main room, without waiting to see if I was tagging along, I was surprised to see Sinclair close the door behind them and drop down on the couch beside me.

  Sighing, he leaned onto his knees and clapped his hands together. "What's wrong, man? You've been stomping around like a ginormous fucking asshole for the last month.”

  "It's Vida,” I admitted, pinching the bridge of my nose.

  Don’t ask why I decided to spill the beans, to Sinclair the emotionless dickhead, nonetheless. It came flying out before I could t
ell him to fuck off.

  “I figured as much, but what happened?”

  “A disaster I shoulda seen coming when I opened my big ass mouth.”

  He motioned for me to continue, so I scrubbed a hand down my face.

  “The short version? Her ex showed up unannounced after we had dinner, she didn’t seem too pleased to find him standing on the other side of the door, and when it became apparent he had no intention of leaving, I couldn’t stop myself from letting him know she wasn’t alone.”

  Sin sucked in a heap of air between his teeth and shook his head, lifting a hand before I could continue. “I don’t even need to hear the rest. I’m assuming that’s what pissed her off?”

  I nodded.

  “Bad call on your part, that’s for sure, especially when she was just your weekend piece. I’d understand if it were Ca—”

  “Vida isn't just a weekend piece,” I growled and an amused grin spread across his face.

  “Oh really? Do tell then.”

  “There's nothing to tell—she’s just different.”

  “Different how?”

  “When I’m with her,” I started, but words quickly failed me, leaving me there with my mouth popped open like a little bitch.

  It was fucking pathetic.

  Sin apparently thought so too as he watched me intently, his amusement growing in tenfold the longer I struggled to speak. “Well?”

  The question only added to my frustration and I blurted out, “I don't know, man, I can't explain this shit.”

  "Pussy's that good, huh?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Alright, alright,” he laughed, “so she’s not a weekend piece and you’re pussy whipped. What else?”

  “She just…she makes me happy. Happier than I’d thought I could be. She’s so much more.”

  “Then why not go after her?”

  “I have, she doesn’t answer me,” I said, my tone defeated and desperate as I dropped my head into my hands.

  “I don’t mean calling her, Monroe. I mean physically going after her. Actions speak louder than words, bro. Women need to see that shit.”