Page 24

With a bite to my tone, I said, “You know what I want, Hunter?” I walked toward a metal chair, dragging it so it sat a few feet in front of him, but not too close that he could reach out and touch me.

I straddled the chair backward, my arms resting over the back of it.

I was taking my control back.

“What do you want, Trouble?” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees with a cocky smirk.

I took a deep breath through my nose and out through my mouth, doing my best to not let his little nickname get to me.

“I want you to stop doing that thing you keep doing with your face,” I circled my finger, aiming it at his stupidly handsome face, “and stop trying to take control.”

His lips lifted as if he was trying to hold back a laugh. “The thing I do with my face?”

“Yes. That cocky little look you get when you pretend you can read my mind.” I pouted.

“Mmm, got it.” He rolled his lips over his teeth, taking a beat before he continued, “If you’re worried about me wanting to control you, you’re mistaken. I vividly remember you taking the reins with me not that long ago, and there wasn’t a thing I disliked about it. Control me all you want, A—Scarlett.”

“That’s more like it.” My face lit up. “So, what did you have in mind for the next few hours?” I stood up, feeling more like myself, and slid the cold metal chair away.

His hazel eyes glanced up at mine when he answered confidently, “A lap dance.”

“There are rules,” I bit back.

“I don’t mind your rules, Scarlett.”

“Well, good.” I cleared my throat as I walked over to the music player to select the perfect song for a lap dance. “You won’t touch me unless I guide your hands to do so.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

I swallowed back the nerves that pricked my body. “Good answer.”

“Any other rules I should know?”

Not really a rule, but in order to protect my heart, it wasn’t completely off the wall for me to make things up on the fly.

“No matter how into this lap dance I seem, no matter how good it feels to you when I’m grinding along your cock, you will not, under any circumstance, kiss me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

God, I could get used to that.

“Now that we have that settled, rest your hands around the back of the couch and enjoy the show.”

Dimming the lights, the neon red signs only burned brighter. The sound of “Skin” by Rihanna hummed softly over the speakers, and with the flip of a switch, I was ready to perform the best damn lap dance of my career.

Like the good boy he was, Hunter sat on the couch with his knees slightly parted, his arms sprawled across the back of the couch, and the most intense look in his eyes that I feared would trip me up if I stared into them for too long.

In order to see just how good he was at following the rules, I chose the most sexually charged song on my playlist and began to tease him with my body just inches from where he sat.

Eventually, I’d make my way to his lap, but first, I wanted to tempt him—draw him in without a single touch. Feel his eyes burning against my skin.

Some would say lap dances were one of the most intimate things you could experience. It was all watching, feeling, refusing to reach out and grab what felt so good to lay your eyes on.

Hunter kept his composure as I walked toward him. But before I could make it all the way, I stopped, spun, and dropped to the ground on my knees. My back arched, and my ass was on full display, except for the sliver of emerald fabric that left little to the imagination.

My hands roamed over my body, and my head rolled to the beat of the music. Enough time had passed that now I was completely lost in the movements.

I turned my body, so I was now kneeling in front of him with my legs spread. My hands slowly traveled from my knees, up my thighs, and to my stomach before landing on the soft flesh pushing up from my bra.