Something Worth Saving (34 page)

“Dance for him, then.”

Hmmm.

“What should I do . . . like, a lap dance or something?”

When Jace and Axe went to get drinks, Kari immediately pulled out her phone and Googled lap dances. I think Kasey knew what we were doing, but he just shook his head and continued drinking from the pitcher of beer at the table.

Can you believe there are how-to videos for lap dances?

Suddenly I wanted a stripper pole in our room. It seemed fitting.

It was decided pretty quickly that I was going to give him a lap dance.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this!” I said, chickening out once we were away from the table, huddled in the corner, and planning how I might do it.

“Oh, don’t be a pussy!” She slapped at my ass, not exactly what I needed right then, either.

“Hey, I’m trying,” I said, biting at my nails and trying desperately to tug at my skirt again.

What if it ripped? But then I realized the clothes were coming off anyway. Right?

This was such a very bad idea. I didn’t have the body to do this.

Shanna and Lauren noticed my hesitation. “You’re sexy, Aubrey. Remember that.”

Shanna smiled. “Remember, this is to cheer him up. My husband makes my ankles touch my ears. You should be happy it’s just a lap dance.
Clearly
I’ve resorted to less. No thanks to Lauren.”

“And the closest I’ve come to this kind of excitement is having my panties ripped off,” Kari said, adding to my anxiety.

“Did he rip them off with his teeth?” Shanna seemed like she was taking notes or something. Probably anything to keep from having to be so bendy, but still keep the spark in their relationship.

“It’s not very smart, though.” Kari reached inside her bag and dug out her makeup and hairspray. “He nearly pulled out his front tooth doing it. His tooth was loose for, like, a month.”

“Let’s go, stripper.” Kari pushed me forward. “Into the bathroom to get you slutty.”

I didn’t go. Instead I stood firm, trying to work out every detail. My anxiety about this was shooting through the roof right about now.

“Okay . . . but how do you think they’re going to let us do this? This isn’t exactly a strip club.” The dark bar was sleek and way more upscale than the average strip club in Seattle. It wasn’t the kind of place where I would expect someone to break out into a lap dance.

“I know the DJ,” Lauren said, pointing to him and then a back room I knew that she of all people probably knew well. “You can do it in there. I’ll get him in there, and you do the rest.”

“Let me guess, you’ve done this before?” I rolled my eyes before Lauren even answered. It was just like her to do something like this.

But me?

I . . . was scared. Never in my life would I have willingly done something like this. But after three more shots, the idea seemed like a good one.

It wasn’t lost on me that this was the liquor talking, but hey, if it brought back what was missing, this could be good, right?

“How do you know the DJ?” Kari handed me another shot, and I looked to Lauren for her to answer my question.

“I dated him for, like, a week.” She shrugged as if it meant nothing and then said, completely serious, “He turned me into some kind of suicide risk.”

“I’m not surprised by that.” After a closer look at him through the darkness and the waves of dim light in the club, I could tell he was just the type of guy she dated. Tattooed up to his jaw, pierced lip, eyebrow, and nose. I had no doubt those piercings went lower, too.

“What song?”

“‘Darling Nikki,’” Lauren said immediately, and walked over to the DJ like she owned the place. He smiled. Apparently that was how you did it here.

And then I panicked. “I’ve never danced to that song.” I think they could tell I was moments away from chickening out.

“You don’t need to know it.” Kari pushed me forward. “Just feel the music and move. I know these hips of yours know how to. You got Jace Ryan.”

I whipped around to face her. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Shanna waved in my face, distracting me. “You know what it means. He’s hot. Take it as a compliment and just focus. This is our entertainment for tonight.”

Of course I was their entertainment.

Jerks.

“Stop thinking.” Shanna nudged me forward. “Just do it. It’s, like, a four-minute song, and then it will be over. Own it.”

While I tightened up my makeup, pushed my dress down a little more in the front, and hiked it up around my upper thighs, Kari teased my hair a little.

Stepping back, she eyed her handiwork with her hands on her hips. “Perfect. You look like you were just fucked.”

“We want that look?” I think they knew I was moments away from bitching out.

“Yes. We do.”

I took a peek in the mirror. Talk about humiliating. Did she really expect me to go out there like this?

Yes. Look at her. She expected it, all right.

Lauren got Jace into the room, sitting in a chair with his drink in hand. The fact that he had gone willingly into a dark room, led by my sister of all people, wasn’t lost on me, either. He was drunk. Which was even better for me, because than I wouldn’t feel like such a fool.

When I heard the song come on, Kari all but pushed me into the room where he was sitting.

No going back now.

I went for it and played the part of a dirty stripper. And, I might add, I owned it.

As the song started, with the slow, rocking motion it had to it, I think it took him a minute to realize what exactly I was doing, but he caught on pretty quickly.

As did everyone else outside the room.

I was nervous, and I think he gathered that, too. I thought for sure that once he caught on to what I was doing, he would tell me to stop. But here’s the thing. Firefighters live a demanding job where the attention to detail is critical. They have to wake up and make life-changing decisions in split seconds. For that reason, when they’re not at the station, they like to let loose. And I do mean let loose. Most are heavy drinkers and like to have a good time.

He was having a good time, and I like to think I was making it a little better. Or at least I was about to.

His eyes were wide, a wild fire in them as he watched me moving toward him in a sexy strut I never thought I of all people could actually carry off.

Showing him another side of myself, I moved closer and made my intentions clear. I was about to ride his fire pole.

With one leg on the edge of his chair, the other planted firmly on the ground, I swiveled my hips and ran my hands from my thighs up my body until they were over my head, letting him see the entire length of my body and the alterations we had made to the dress.

I slipped a little and decided that if I was going to do this, two feet had to be on the floor at all times. I had no balance after all those shots I’d consumed.

Dancing in front of him was easier. Tempting, even. Let him see what I had to offer without being able to touch.

Turning and turning, on my knees but with a teasing control to my moves.

Bending at my knees, I arched my back, threw my ass out there, and then turned so he had a nice view. To tease him more, I bent at the waist and touched the floor with my hands, then shook my ass a little and looked back at him.

He was leaning back in his chair, slouched slightly to one side. His head was down, lashes shadowing his cheeks when he shifted, his arms draped over the back of the chair next to him. One leg was kicked out in front of him, the other bent, a resting point for the drink in his hand as he studied my every move.

He was aroused but clearly very entertained. “Don’t stop now. Show me what you got, dirty girl.”

I was about to. Rising up from my position, I turned around to face him.

With my hands on his chest, I went for it and straddled him. Bending my knees and planting my hands firmly on his shoulders now, I rose up on my toes, rocked forward, and ground against him.

Up until then, he hadn’t touched me. Maybe I’d caught him off guard.

Even better.

And then he touched me.

I felt each fingertip as he dragged it over my ass slowly, but said nothing. My skin ignited at his touch. It’d been so long.

I’d never seen him so entranced, and the fact that I was doing this to him, creating that hunger deep within his steady stare, well, that did things to me, too.

With my arms around the back of his neck — slick with sweat — my hands moved slowly to his hair, threading tightly in his curls. He moaned, a growl rumbling from deep within, shaking his chest.

“Fuck . . . ”

A low rumble left his chest, and a shudder ran through me that I was making him feel this way.

Cursing under his breath, he took a firm hold on me. “Don’t stop.”

He wasn’t letting an inch of space come between us. Instead, his hands held me firmly against his pelvis, rocking us back and forth.

There was a trembling to his body that made it easier because it made me feel like I was doing something right. And there were so many thoughts going through my head that I couldn’t focus on any one in particular to act on them.
Just move
. That’s what I told myself to do, and that’s what I did.

As the song progressed, my movements started to come naturally, slow and persistent. I moved, letting him know just how much I wanted him.

His hands ran up my chest, his fingers gliding over my breasts. He was so hard under me I felt like was sitting on a metal pipe.

I could feel the roughness of his jeans sliding along my center, the thinness of my panties allowing me to absorb it, and I’m not going to lie here — I knew he could feel how wet I was getting.

So apparently acting the part of a dirty stripper also had me talking like one, too. I was saying all kinds of shit. Like, “I’m so wet . . . ” and “My pussy aches for you . . . ” and what I never expected, shivers here because this was so clearly not me, “You like me riding your cock . . . don’t you, daddy . . . ?”

Seriously, though, who drugged me?

This wasn’t me. This girl was most definitely not me. I never said “cock.” Ever. I actually hated the word. Now look at me.

Like I said, dirty stripper. It surprised the hell out of me and got Jace so worked up his chest was heaving, gasping for breaths as his mouth attacked any revealed skin he could get to.

My nails clawed at him, and I held myself tightly against his panting chest, rocking against him. His hands dug into my hips, gripping me so hard I was sure bruises would be there later.

I knew the song was just about over, and I tried that whole “whip your head around” thing, got dizzy, and decided that wasn’t exactly for me. So back to the dry humping I went.

When the song ended, we didn’t stop, as they continued into what I knew Lauren had something to do with, Mickey Avalon’s “Stroke Me.”

Jace licked his bottom lip. Leaning in, I could smell the whiskey on his breath. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.
No
idea.”

Didn’t I?

“I want to fuck you” — a tender growl I never could resist touched his voice — “right here, in front of everyone.”

Holding my breath, I was stunned by his admission. I knew this side of Jace very well, but to be around all these people and have him say these things to me . . . this was different.

Slowly his hands moved over me. Finding my shoulder blades and then going over my shoulders, he pulled me down on him, hard.

Arching myself once again and extending my arms, I wrapped them around his neck. Rising up on my toes, I rocked forward, the chair creaking.

With my motions, his head fell back with an animalistic growl.

My body shuddered around him. The way he shifted my hips made me open my eyes.

When I looked down, I saw that his jeans were undone. That I had somehow done that during this — it made me smile. I’d never done anything like this . . . this revealing . . . this exhilarating . . . before.

Jace’s eyes were locked on my body, his gaze memorizing my every feature and curve.

I was breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, and honestly, I could have been panting.

“I
want
you so bad,” he whispered, echoing my exact thoughts, his voice and body trembling, swiveling my hips against him. “I want you right here, in front of everyone.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do.” The muscles in his stomach flexed and contracted with each labored breath he took. I could tell his resolve was crumbling when he swept his shaking hand across the back of his neck. “It’s hard not to when you look like this.” He motioned to my body, straddling him.

He groaned into my mouth, the want emanating from his voice.

“Hey,” he said roughly in my ear, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist. “I want to fuck you. I do. But not here.”

“But you said . . . ” Not that I was going to do it — this was a little too public for me — but he was so into it I thought for sure he’d try something. Maybe discreetly slipping it in. Hell, I don’t know, my mind was swimming with all kinds of thoughts.

Jace wasn’t used to this sort of thing. Intimately, he’s always been in control but now, here, surrounded by a group of onlookers, he had no control, and it lay with me, his dirty stripper.

Knowing we were getting a little too into it and I was moments away from sliding down his fire pole, I went to stand but was quickly stopped. Catching myself against his shoulders, I broke out into a fit of nervous giggles.

I was one, out of breath, and two, dizzy from the lack of oxygen from my quick breathing. I would be amazed if I could still stand when it was over. To be fair, I wasn’t standing. Jace wouldn’t let me up from his lap.

“Don’t move.” His brown eyebrows arched. “Unless you want everyone to see how fucking hard I am right now.” Playfully he nibbled at my neck as I ground myself against him, slowly rocking into him. His fingers clenched my wrists at my sides as he kissed my bare shoulders. “So sexy . . . ”

“Time’s up, sluts,” Lauren said, peeking around the curtain. Like she needed to peek. They’d all been watching this — I knew they were.

I could tell because as soon as we stepped out of there, a little shaky-legged and sweating, they all had knowing smirks.