SIX: A Men of the Strip Anthology Read online

  “I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I guess that makes you a liar Miss Lopez,” I growl as she lets out a soft panting noise. It’s not enough, I need more. I need it all as my mouth claims hers. The filthy fact that my fingers were inside her before my lips had ever tasted hers doesn’t escape me. All the moans, pants and little noises— they’re mine too as I try to devour them. She tastes like honey with a hint of something sharp like lime and it’s intoxicating. I can’t get enough as I deepen the kiss. I guarantee that she’ll be feeling this all the way down to her toes. I remove my fingers from inside her tight little cunt and while I wish I didn’t have to, there was something I wanted more. Mewling in protest she still says nothing. Her silence isn’t what I want. I want her to curse me, cry out my name, fuck she can even spout shit in Spanish. I don’t care what she says as long as she’s riding my dick, my fingers or my face as she does it. As long as it’s my name on her dulcet lips, I don’t care what else she says. I step backwards and she leans towards me automatically but I push her back against the wall. She looks confused and dazed but if she wants her orgasm then it’s going to be on my terms.

  I slide the straps of her dress down over her shoulders and push it down her body to the floor. Neither of us seem to give a shit that we’re in an alley, it doesn’t even seem to have registered in her mind. She’s not even wearing a bra and I pause to look at her perfect breasts. I’ve seen many naked bodies, but for some reason she’s different. This feels different. I’ll have plenty of time later to lavish attention on them, but right now I just want to hear her say my name. I turn her around roughly, push her against the wall. I know the scratch of cold brick against her skin will be that delicious mixture of pain and lust. I place my palms either side of her and lean in close. She can feel me at her back but I’m not touching her. She’s anticipating it; I can see the goosebumps on her skin as she tries to control her breathing.

  “Beg. Say my name and beg me to touch you.” I command.

  Silence. Only the subdued sound of her inhaling and exhaling fills the alley. I bite down on her shoulder, nipping her soft flesh between my teeth and dragging them over her skin. She exhales sharply and throws her head back with a groan. I force her palms flat against the brickwork above her head, my hands cover hers and our fingers lock together as I continue marking what is mine.

  “Say it” I demand, my patience and willpower waning quickly. Again nothing.

  “Keep your hands there,” I order as I move down her body, peppering her spine with kisses and little bites. My hands keep her in place, holding firmly onto her hips as she bucks against me every time my lips touch her smooth skin.

  I’m on my knees behind her, that amazing ass of hers in my face so I do what I’ve been dying to do since she first did warm-ups in class, and I sink my teeth into it. I know I’m eroding her resolve as she moves into me again. I can see where her panties are soaked through, clinging to her sensitive skin. I lay gentle kisses on the back of her thighs, moving up towards her perfect cunt before moving away again. I do this a few times and she actually wriggles in protest and I hold her firmly, my fingers digging into her flesh. I pull her hips closer to me, giving me better access to her pussy and then I wait. I am not a patient man, but I need to wait.

  She whimpers, feeling my breath on her. She squirms, moving closer to my mouth but I pull away. Finally she breaks and I feel it as she relaxes ever so slightly in my hands.

  “Joder! Sinclair...please…”

  “Sinclair what?” I say, my lips brushing against her panties, right over her sweet spot.

  “Touch me pleaseee.”

  I don’t need anything more than that as I hook my fingers into her little lace lingerie and pull them down her legs. I ball up her underwear and slip them in my pocket as I part her legs wider and pause for a moment. She’s spread open and soaking wet... for me. If this was a one-time thing then I intended to enjoy it for what it was. If? If? Did I seriously just use ‘if’? There’s no doubt Sofia Lopez is mine and regardless of what I tell myself, once will never be enough. She’s addictive and I haven’t even tasted her yet.

  I move slowly, resisting the urge to just bury my face between her legs. I finally have her where I want her and I don’t want this moment to be over too quickly. Pausing, I take a moment before I give the smallest of licks. She almost sobs, all the pent up sexual tension finally getting to her so I take mercy and kiss her lips, brushing up against her clit with my nose. The pressure is slight but she moves towards me again. I reward her impatience with a firm lick of my tongue all the way down her slit as she shimmies against my face. Sliding two fingers inside her I focus on her clit with my mouth, I kiss, suck and even give her a gentle bite as she bucks herself, fucking my hand and my face searching for her release. I refuse to rush, this moment is ours. Her hips rock as her orgasm builds and I can feel her body start to tighten around my fingers so I slip a third one inside, the groan I get in return tells me she’s fucking loving it.

  I’ve been on the verge of coming since I tasted her, so working quickly with one hand I unbutton my jeans and take my dick into my hand. I work my closed first up and down in time with my fingers, it’s not even close to fucking her but it’ll have to do for now.

  “Sinclair...Sin. Fuckkkk Sin!” she cries out. The wild gasp that’s torn from her as her body stiffens and the way she uses the wall to brace herself tell me that she’s coming. Her pussy clenches around my fingers as her movements slow, and my own release is close.

  Hearing her panting, screaming my name is the push I need as I cum violently all over the wall. Once again, the only sound in the alley is our heavy breathing as we say nothing. After a few moments I stand, put my cock back into my pants and turn her to face me. She has a graze from the wall on her cheek and faint bite marks cover her. I lean down and kiss her, my tongue invading her mouth so that she can taste herself, so that she understands that I am not done with her. This is only the beginning.

  “Mine.” I murmur as our foreheads touch.

  She makes a mumble of protest.

  “Go near that fucker again and you will regret it. Am I making myself clear?” I threaten.

  She pulls away and looks at me like the savage, heartless fucker I am. Her post-orgasmic bubble has burst with my words.

  “You don’t own me,” she says with an air of defiance as she pulls her dress back on, unable to find her underwear.

  “You’ll regret it Sofia, don’t push me,” I say, grabbing her arm as she moves past me to go back into the club.

  “No Sinclair,” she says coolly, “you will regret it.”

  Seconds later she’s gone and I don’t know what to say. I thought this would show her; make her understand that she belongs to me now. If she needed more convincing, then I’d be more than happy for a repeat performance. But one thing was sure, that woman wouldn’t be able to get me out of her system no matter how hard she tried to deny this.

  Heading back into the bar the guys greet me with cheers and slaps on my back. I look over and see Sofia looking delightfully ruffled, my marks visible, her skin flushed from our exhibitionist activities. Slime ball is giving me evils as he obviously starts laying into her, she holds up her hand and he silences. He’s deluded if he thinks he ever had a shot, Sofia doesn’t need an obedient puppy dog, she needs someone to fight with, someone who won’t take no for an answer. She needs me.

  I’m ushered out the door and into a taxi as the others want to hit another club. They think my business here is done but they don’t understand. Sinclair Beaumont never goes back for seconds, but now I want seconds and thirds. Fourths and fifths won’t even be enough to sate what I’m feeling. I want it all and I have no words to describe why.

  6

  I get home after four in the morning, having watched the guys drink and flirt their way round most of town. Normally I’d join in, I’d be diving in pussy and moving on to the next without a second thought but all I could think about was her. I was like a stuck reco
rd, skipping over her name again and again. Sofia Lopez. Mine. Sofia Lopez. Mine. By the time I crash in bed I’ve decided that something’s got to give. I want Sofia to see that I’m no amateur, and the only way to do that is to bring her to the club. I want my job back, I want my life back, but I want her to be part of it. First, I needed to get past the fire breathing dragon holding the keys to the club kingdom: Betty.

  I head to the club at lunchtime and wait in the parking lot. I can hear Betty’s soft-top Cadillac before I see it turning in and pulling up beside me. The pink monstrosity looked like it belonged outside Barbie’s Dreamhouse instead of being driven by a fifty something firecracker with an alcohol content of 80%, a skin tight pencil skirt and large leopard print sunglasses resting on her judgmental face.

  “Beaumont,” she says curtly as she nods at me, “What’re you doing hanging around my club like a fly on shit?”

  “I want back in,” I reply holding the door open for her as she gracefully steps out, high heels clicking as they hit the tarmac. It’s been over a month since I last danced at the club and staying away is driving me crazy.

  She tilts her head at me and lights up a cigarette. I watch as she inhales, then exhales before pursing her pink lips.

  “Look I’m ready,” I stand before her, sober and desperate to get back to dancing.

  “I don’t agree,” she retorts as she opens up the club and motions for me to follow her inside.

  “C’mon Betty. Let me come back, I need this.”

  She turns and jabs a finger at my chest, “Boy, where were you last night?”

  “Out” I sigh, knowing that she’ll think I was being my usual man slag self.

  “Exactly.”

  “It was different!” I protest as we head through the door and into the empty club. It was almost eerie in the day.

  “I fail to see how,” she remarks as she flips on all the lights on behind the bar.

  “Sofia invited me…”

  “Sofia?”

  I look away and run a hand awkwardly through my hair, “She’s...she’s my dance teacher. At the community centre.”

  “Mario Lopez’s daughter? Small? Fiery?” I give a small nod as Betty continues trying to place her, “Lovely long dark hair. Very pretty that one.”

  She looks over the top of her sunglasses at me, eyes narrowed. “What’re you playing at Sinclair?”

  There’s no point lying to Betty, she knows everything like some damned Oracle of Vegas.

  “I like her” is my simple and short answer. I can’t say anymore than that because I’m still figuring it out myself.

  “You don’t like anyone,” she says suspiciously.

  I shrug, there’s nothing more that I can say to explain what's happening because I don’t have a fucking clue.

  “Fine. Two dances a night. You haven’t danced in a while and I’m not having you injure yourself the first week back.”

  I swear I could almost punch the air I’m so happy, next thing on my list is to get Sofia here. She needs to see what I’m capable of— amateur my ass.

  Chickening out of talking to Sofia, I just leave a note on her windscreen asking her to come to the club after class. She spends the next hour trying to catch my gaze but I don’t want to give anything away because she still doesn’t know what I do for a living. Until she can see me on that stage under the lights, I don’t want her to ask any questions. I quickly dodge my way past the oldies and slip through the door as soon as three o’clock rolls around even though I can hear her calling my name. I can’t stop because I have a show to get ready for and a woman to woo.

  Seven pm rolls around and the doors to the club open. Women filter in like a paddling pool filling, seemingly slow at first and before you realise it the water is reaching the top and you’re drowning in clunge. I can’t see her face in the crowd but I know she’ll be here, the suspense will win out and she’ll come because she can’t keep her curiosity in check. I scan the crowd again quickly to make sure she’s not here before I sneak back behind the curtain. For the first time in my life I’m actually nervous about what I’m going to do. I love dancing but I’ve never danced to win someone over, they usually just fall at my feet. The music starts and I am psyching myself up ready to go out, shaking out my limbs when Gio smacks me on the shoulder.

  “Don’t tell me that the man slag is nervous,” he laughs.

  Darius calls out behind him, “Don’t worry about it pretty boy, you were born to be a stripper— you won’t have lost your touch.”

  Jag just winks at me as he walks past practically naked, getting ready for his slot because he’s on after me. I hear the beat and I know it’s only two counts until I’m due onto the stage. One. Two.

  Heart hammering in my chest I slide out onto the stage on my knees. I grip onto the centre stage pole to bring myself up in a reverse drop move. Women are screaming, and why wouldn’t they? I’ve been away for a while so the fact that I’m back adds a little extra. I swing myself round the pole once before doing a little one-two step like Sofia taught me. As I move my hips side to side, I start to undo my buttons and that’s when I spot her. She’s sat to the right in a booth with some girls I vaguely recognize from the Cuban club. She gives me a small wave with her eyebrow raised as I blow her a kiss and grin at her. I spin around, looking over my shoulder as I slide my shirt off. I do a little bump and grind on the pole before another spin and another dance move. I spot Betty heading towards the booth and I start to panic a little. I don’t want her to tell Sofia what a mess I’ve been lately or about the amount of women here just to watch me. I don’t want to scare her off. The glint from the disco ball moves across my bare chest as I do a body roll and thrust my hips in her direction. Betty takes a seat besides her and calls over for a bottle of champagne. If I ever brought a girlfriend home and my parents were normal, then this is what I imagined the embarrassment and the nerves would feel like. Betty’s the closest thing I’ve got and it still doesn’t make it any easier. I rip my trousers off and incorporate a back flip, landing in just my thong and boots. I toss the fabric to the side and shift into a handstand where I slowly open my legs. This is all for her, every single move, every drop of sweat is to show her how much I want her and it seems to be working because when I’m right side up I see her blushing furiously, biting down on her lip. I glide through the rest of the routine, a blur as my eyes don’t leave hers. What’s between us is electric and with our eyes locked from across the room I swear I am more turned on than I ever have been. I want to touch her, to bring her onto this stage and claim her as mine but the screams and shouts as I flash my ass before ducking off stage remind me that we’re not alone.

  “Dude who was that woman in the booth?” Jag calls as he waits for his music to start up.

  I’m not ready to explain about Sofia just yet, so I decide the best tactic is just to deny, deny, deny, “What woman? I don’t know what you’re on about.”

  “Liar, the hottie with Betty. Big eyes and the kind of hair you want to wrap around your fist as you fuck her four ways from Sunday,” he says as he peeks out at her, interest registering in his blue eyes.

  “I think it’s six,” I say, avoiding answering him.

  “Huh?” he frowns at me.

  “It’s six ways from Sunday idiot,” I explain as I wipe myself down with a towel.

  He chuckles, “Stop deflecting, who’s the bird?”

  “She’s no one,” I growl, followed with “But she’s off limits.”

  “Off limits huh? Then she’s not a no one is she. Don’t pretend like you’ve ever had a problem sharing before Sin,” he snorts before disappearing on stage.

  The thought of sharing has me angry and all I want is to see her. I need Sofia to know that she’s mine and this time I need her to understand it. If she walks away again I don’t know what more I can do.

  Once I’ve pulled on my jeans and a t-shirt I head for that booth so fast it’s like my ass has been set on fire. When I get to the black leather studded
seating area not only is Sofia grinning at me, but she’s also tipsy. Thank God for Betty and her champagne because Sofia jumps up and pulls me into an embrace, her inhibitions gone.

  “That was amazing. Why didn’t you tell me you could dance like that?” she whispers in my ear before playfully nipping on my earlobe.

  “You never asked, you just assumed I was inferior,” I say as I slide my hands down her back to grab her ass.

  “Well...I can make it up to you,” she teased.

  That’s all the encouragement I need so before she can change her mind I’m dragging her behind me into the VIP room. We’re only supposed to be in here for fifteen minutes maximum, but even Betty knows that’s a bullshit rule: no one ever follows it.

  I close the door behind us and pull Sofia into me. My lips crash against hers as her taste engulfs me. She’s sweet and spicy my little dancer, all consuming. Her hands fist in my hair as her tongue demands more and more from me. She tries to push me back against the wall but I haven’t lost all my senses, I need to show her who’s really in charge here.

  “Get down,” I command and she drops, ready to get on her knees but I’m not going to make it that easy on her.

  “No, squat.”

  “I’m in heels…”

  “I know,” I grin.

  She arches a brow at me and slides down my thighs, but I know her dancer's body is more than capable of getting low and holding it, even in the fuck-me-shoes. As she moves over me I grab the hem of her little black dress and pull it up as she goes down, she’s left in nothing but a pair of stockings, her heels and the tiniest thong I’ve ever seen in my life. It covers nothing. Fuck this woman, she makes being in control almost impossible.

  I tip my head back and let out a quiet groan. Hearing her chuckle softly I already know I’m in big trouble, I’m practically drowning in her. Her small fingers work quickly on my jeans, the button coming undone with almost a pop they were straining so tightly against me. She pushes them down over my hips slowly, her big hazel eyes never leaving mine as she strips me bare. She licks at her bottom lip and man I want to kiss her but I hold my ground. My cock is inches away from her face, throbbing I’m so hard. The wait is killing me. I look at the mirrored walls and her ass looks like a fucking peach I’m dying to take a bite of, that stupid scrap of fabric hugging her pussy. I want to slide my fingers down that string between her ass cheeks, following it to her centre. I’m willing to bet if I touched her there now she’d be drenched.