The music rises to a crescendo, then switches off.
The cheering from the crowd smashes into me. I open my eyes, and notice the worn cowboy boots in my line of sight. The hair on the nape of my neck rises. I run my gaze up the tailor-made slacks that mold to powerful thighs and cup the bulge between the legs. I gulp. Snap my head back.
"Get up."
His lips move. I hear him above the hoots and whistles of the crowd.
I glide up to my feet, the audience cheers. "Victoria!"
"Victoria… Show your tits."
A snarl rolls up his chest. His biceps bulge. Anger strums off of him and my nerve endings spark. I’ve seen Saint laid back, bored, cruel intent writ in his every expression. But this…? Saint …. Livid, every muscle in his body taut, layer upon layer of muscle vibrating with surprised tension…? My thighs spasm and liquid heat curls in my belly.
"Victoria, take it all off…" Another scream from the audience rips between us.
He growls, takes a step forward, "Do it."
I blink.
"Take off your clothes."
"H…here?"
"Isn’t that why you’re here? To show off your assets? To cash in what you have for money? He shoves his hand into his pocket, pulls out his wallet. He holds up a credit card. The light flashes off of it, blinding me for a second. "This is what you want, right?"
I swallow, then tip up my chin. "Of course." A cold sensation stabs at my chest. My fingers and toes turn to ice. I fold all of my emotions into that tiny space deep inside. Raising one shoulder, I shrug off my scanty sparkly top, then shrug down the other side.
The fabric catches on my hard nipples, stays poised a second. One more breath and it will fall. Another hoot from the audience, "You’re blocking the view, you asshole."
I wince.
Saint holds up a hand and the audience quietens.
He moves in closer, closer, until his chest brushes my half naked torso. Goosebumps flare on my skin. He swoops out his arm. I wince. He digs his fingers into my hair, tugs. I arch my head, bare the column of my neck for his perusal.
A bead of sweat runs down my temple. He drops his head and licks it up. I shudder. All of my pores pop.
"That was a terrible song to strip to, by the way."
I blink. Of all the insignificant things to say… "Not a Beatles fan, huh?"
"Hate them."
"Oh, goody." I flutter my eyelashes. "I’ll make sure to strip to only them from now on."
His gaze narrows and his blue eyes lighten until they resemble water swirling under ice—deep, dangerous. He’s lethal…a man who’ll never let go once his interest is aroused. I gulp. My heart begins to race.
"Say that again…" His voice lowers to a hush.
"I’ll make sure to…"
His hand swoops out, then he tears off the strip of cloth from over my middle. I am instantly wet. Damn him, why do I find this hot? It isn’t. He wants to belt me, teach me a lesson for what I did. I’d dared to throw down the challenge and he had risen to it—I drop my gaze to where his arousal tents his crotch—in more ways than one.
"Do it." My voice trembles, and I... I hate that. I will not allow him to see how scared I am. Worried that my body will enjoy what he is going to do to me. Find that I want it, welcome it. Ask him to ravish me right here in front of everyone. "Lost your courage?" I tip up my chin and his features twist. He bends his knees, grabs me by my thighs, then pushes me down on the padded platform.
I stare up at him, raise my torso. He covers my body with his, plants his hips between my legs, his hardness stabbing at the hollow between my legs. His gaze bores into me. My heart begins to race, adrenaline lacing my blood. Fear claws in my gut. I raise my hand and my palm connects with his face. His head snaps back.
He straightens and my fingerprints are outlined on his cheek. Oh, dear! That’s not good, is it?
I gulp and he bares his teeth.
I raise my hand again and he catches it, then brings up my other arm. He yanks my palms up and above my head, shackles my wrists with his fingers. Then thrusts his hand between us. I hear the click of his belt buckle, the rustle of his zipper, then his dick nudges my entrance.
"You want this, don’t you? This is why you’ve been haunting me since I saw you. This is why you came to me for help. You’re a whore. Admit it. You want what only I can give you."
I nod.
"Say it." He scowls, "I want to hear you.""
"You. Only you," I gasp. My insides twist and my core aches, even as moisture laces my cunt. "I need you."
Not like this.
Not like this.
"Like this," he hisses. "You want me on this stage. You want me to take you in front of everyone. You’re an exhibitionist.
I freeze. How did he guess that
"You want to be taken and broken, until you are set free. You want me to paint your insides with my cum, to rub my name into every pore of your body, say it…"
Yes.
Yes.
"You pushed me until I crossed the line, until there was no going back." His features twist. The blue in his eyes deepens until they seem almost black. "Say you want me to punish you, you want me to fuck your past right out of you," he snarls.
Goddam him for laying my soul bare in front of the world.
