Stripe Tease(9)By: Milly Taiden
“Nice car,” she said, trying not to sound like she was nervous that just looking at it would put a dent on the machine. He opened her door for her. She stopped to blink at the open door and then at him. This was the first time a man, any man, opened a door for her. For a second, she wasn’t sure what to do. Should she curtsy? Say thank you? Get down on her knees and repay with some oral? Decision, decisions.
He cleared his throat. She shook out of the visual of being on her knees pleasuring him. She really, really needed a mental evaluation.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice low and shaky. She got into the car, keeping her eyes facing forward and not on his cock. Nope. Not looking. She waited until the door shut before peeking out the window at his ass. She could bounce pennies off those cheeks.
She twisted in her seat to see what he’d do next. He opened the trunk and pulled out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. In no time, he was dressed and getting into the driver’s side.
“What’s your name?” he asked, putting the car in drive and taking off.
He hadn’t given her his last name, and she wasn’t going to be nosy enough to ask, though she has a pretty good idea he belonged to one of the many shifter clans in the area.
“Where do you live, Vanessa?”
She watched him handle the powerful car with grace and strength. Would he be like that with a woman? All sexy, gliding his hands on her legs like he did on the wheel? This was getting out of hand. She hadn’t realized how badly not having sex had affected her.
She gave him her address and thanked every deity she could think of that he couldn’t tell she was ten seconds from flinging herself at him and asking to baptize his car the old-fashioned way. Like in the back seat getting hot and heavy.
They were quiet for a little while, until he put some music on, that is. She almost broke her neck when one of her favorite songs came on the radio.
“I so would not have taken you for an oldies kind of guy.”
He glanced at her with one of those grins that made her knees weak and wobbly. “I love seventies, eighties, and old music. I like all kinds of music.”
She raised her brows. “I don’t believe that.”
He nodded. “I do. I like all music.”
She grinned. “You mean to tell me you rock out to Diana Ross at home and sing ‘I will survive’ while cooking?”
He chuckled and gave her a side-glance. “You’re pretty creative, aren’t you?”
She nodded, rubbing her hands on the leather of her seat. The damn car was like a sex toy—all warm and soft, making her excited just looking at it. “I have to be creative in my line of business, or I’d lose my mind.”
The smile dropped off his face, and his jaw clenched. “Do you enjoy what you do?”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t. I live for my job. It’s the only fun thing I get to do. Most of the girls I work with are awesome. The staff is pretty great at Charlie’s.”
He squeezed the steering wheel so hard she saw his already-pale knuckles turn white. “I see.”
“Yep. What do you do? No!” She yelled after she asked. “Don’t tell me. I can guess.”
He gave her a quick glance with raised brows. “Okay.”
“You’re a professional gambler. You’ve got a sixth sense about slots, and so you’ve made millions playing.”
He shook his head. “You think I’m a gambler?”
She nodded. “I know I’m right. I’m pretty good at figuring out these things. You have that face.”
“What face?” There was a note of surprise in his voice.
The I’m-going-to-fuck-the-shit-out-of-you-until-you-can’t-walk-a-single-step one, but she was so not telling him that. “You know. That poker face that’s hard to read.”
“Ahhh. So because of my face, you think I’m a gambler.”
“Come on. You can’t tell me I’m not right. I bet I am.” She giggled.
He chuckled. “I find your humor quite interesting, Vanessa.”
He did? This was her nerves talking. He definitely didn’t want to see her when she had a few drinks in her. She was dangerous.