Read Online Wicked Lovers 07 Ours to Love by Shayla Black - Free Book Online
Authors: Shayla Black
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more thing, Javier.”
“What?”
“Fuck off. For good.”
He charged out the door, slamming it behind him and prowling to his Audi. He needed
a good drink and an even better fuck. And he knew exactly where to go.
***
AFTER walking to Sexy Sirens alone, London let herself in with her cousin Alyssa’s key and
disabled the alarm. She didn’t reset it behind her or lock the door, since the other
woman should be only minutes behind her and the club’s sign still indicated the place
was closed.
The interior looked dormant, but a sense of anticipation hung in the air. The lights
were dark, the bar dry, the speakers silent, but within hours all of that would change.
Men would file in, and raucous music would fill the air with its raunchy, insistent
beat. The booze would flow. The whistles and catcalls would start. Women would strut
out wearing next to nothing and entice every man in the place.
Not that she wanted to be an exotic dancer, exactly. But she’d love to tempt any man
at this point. Hell, she was beyond grateful to just be moving without wheelchairs
or walkers. She was making friends beyond her nurses and physical therapists. She’d
even been on a few dates with a nice guy, and he’d kissed her once or twice . . .
but Brian had been on the hospital staff. Of course once he’d seen the terrible roadmap
of red scars on her lower back, he’d been repulsed and mumbled an excuse about being
too busy to date anymore. Embarrassed and deflated, she’d let him go without fuss.
Letting anyone see her back wasn’t a mistake she planned on making again. But here
she could pretend that none of that existed.
After nearly ten years of recovery and rehab, she’d fled her mother’s nest and flown
halfway across the country to visit her cousin for a while. Alyssa and Luc had been
so kind and offered to take her in. She wished she could pay rent or babysit their
beautiful little girl in return—something. But that was impossible, at least for now.
Someday . . .
Squelching the guilt and sadness, she made her way through the empty club, her sensible
sandals clicking as she meandered up on the stage, fingers grazing the shining metal
pole in the middle. What would it be like to have the confidence and the body to strip
in front of a roomful of men? To hear their appreciative whistles and suggestive comments?
To know they felt lust when they looked at her, not pity?
She’d never know, but she could pretend here and now.
With a grin, she clambered off the stage and darted to the dressing room, finding
a pair of her cousin’s sexiest stilettos. Tottering in on them, she flipped on the
lights and the music, as Alyssa had shown her the first time she’d come to Sexy Sirens.
It might be a place where men could escape a bad work or home life, hang and relax,
but right now it would be her place to fantasize that she was sexy, that she knew
exactly how to make a man’s tongue hang from his mouth and beg for her. She chose
a sexy tune with a grinding beat by Rihanna. Her sensual voice flowed over her confession
that it felt so good being bad.
London closed her eyes and let her hips sway as she made her way back to the stage.
The heat from the intense overhead lights sizzled across her skin. She bobbed her
head from side to side with the beat of the music, then speared a hand through her
pale hair, winding the long strands between her ample breasts. She turned slowly,
balanced on the sexy shoes, gripping her hips, arching her back, and sticking out
her ass, just like Alyssa had taught her.
The lessons in strip aerobics her cousin had been giving her had become the highlight
of her time in Lafayette. Her sexy-as-sin cousin used to take off her clothes for
a living until she’d turned her hand to owning this club and a nearby gourmet restaurant
with her famous chef husband. To Alyssa, exotic dancing had once been necessary to
keep food in
“What?”
“Fuck off. For good.”
He charged out the door, slamming it behind him and prowling to his Audi. He needed
a good drink and an even better fuck. And he knew exactly where to go.
***
AFTER walking to Sexy Sirens alone, London let herself in with her cousin Alyssa’s key and
disabled the alarm. She didn’t reset it behind her or lock the door, since the other
woman should be only minutes behind her and the club’s sign still indicated the place
was closed.
The interior looked dormant, but a sense of anticipation hung in the air. The lights
were dark, the bar dry, the speakers silent, but within hours all of that would change.
Men would file in, and raucous music would fill the air with its raunchy, insistent
beat. The booze would flow. The whistles and catcalls would start. Women would strut
out wearing next to nothing and entice every man in the place.
Not that she wanted to be an exotic dancer, exactly. But she’d love to tempt any man
at this point. Hell, she was beyond grateful to just be moving without wheelchairs
or walkers. She was making friends beyond her nurses and physical therapists. She’d
even been on a few dates with a nice guy, and he’d kissed her once or twice . . .
but Brian had been on the hospital staff. Of course once he’d seen the terrible roadmap
of red scars on her lower back, he’d been repulsed and mumbled an excuse about being
too busy to date anymore. Embarrassed and deflated, she’d let him go without fuss.
Letting anyone see her back wasn’t a mistake she planned on making again. But here
she could pretend that none of that existed.
After nearly ten years of recovery and rehab, she’d fled her mother’s nest and flown
halfway across the country to visit her cousin for a while. Alyssa and Luc had been
so kind and offered to take her in. She wished she could pay rent or babysit their
beautiful little girl in return—something. But that was impossible, at least for now.
Someday . . .
Squelching the guilt and sadness, she made her way through the empty club, her sensible
sandals clicking as she meandered up on the stage, fingers grazing the shining metal
pole in the middle. What would it be like to have the confidence and the body to strip
in front of a roomful of men? To hear their appreciative whistles and suggestive comments?
To know they felt lust when they looked at her, not pity?
She’d never know, but she could pretend here and now.
With a grin, she clambered off the stage and darted to the dressing room, finding
a pair of her cousin’s sexiest stilettos. Tottering in on them, she flipped on the
lights and the music, as Alyssa had shown her the first time she’d come to Sexy Sirens.
It might be a place where men could escape a bad work or home life, hang and relax,
but right now it would be her place to fantasize that she was sexy, that she knew
exactly how to make a man’s tongue hang from his mouth and beg for her. She chose
a sexy tune with a grinding beat by Rihanna. Her sensual voice flowed over her confession
that it felt so good being bad.
London closed her eyes and let her hips sway as she made her way back to the stage.
The heat from the intense overhead lights sizzled across her skin. She bobbed her
head from side to side with the beat of the music, then speared a hand through her
pale hair, winding the long strands between her ample breasts. She turned slowly,
balanced on the sexy shoes, gripping her hips, arching her back, and sticking out
her ass, just like Alyssa had taught her.
The lessons in strip aerobics her cousin had been giving her had become the highlight
of her time in Lafayette. Her sexy-as-sin cousin used to take off her clothes for
a living until she’d turned her hand to owning this club and a nearby gourmet restaurant
with her famous chef husband. To Alyssa, exotic dancing had once been necessary to
keep food in
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