service to this magnificent country by dancing for him.â
Daniel stood in front of her, his expression veiled, his mouth set in a grim line. He looked neither threatening nor all that happy. What Ricardo had said to convince him, she had no idea.
The music pounded, the beat reaching through the floor and into her body. Was this some private joke, this strangerâs way of mocking her? A spark of irritation spurred Chelsea to stand straighter, to look disdainfully down her nose.
Daniel was actually fairly good looking, and if sheâd met him in other circumstances, she probably would have found him downright attractive. The effect was heightened by his lazy, amused confidence. He didnât seem the least bit intimidated by Ricardo or by her. In fact, he didnât seem all that interested.
Chelseaâs nipples swelled against the silky fabric of the dress as she contemplated making Daniel pay attention. What would it take, she wondered, to wipe that smug look off his face? It wasnât the need, the hunger that Ricardoâs touch gave her, but an entirely new sensationâa desire to play the game, to engage in a match of courage, to see which of them would blink first.
It damn well wasnât going to be her.
She locked eyes on Daniel and began to circle her hips in time to the music. She matched each pulse of the bass line with her body, and as she grew comfortable with the rhythm, she added sinuous motions with her arms.
Chelsea had never gone to nightclubs with girlfriendsâhell, sheâd never had that kind of girlfriend. But there had once been a time when she danced.
When sheâd run away from home, she had been taken in by two kindly salon owners in Chinatown, who allowed her to stay in the back room and gave her a job. They also acted as surrogate fathers, and after dinner they sometimes turned the radio up loud in the living room. Chelsea closed her eyes and let the music flow through her and found a tiny pocket of joy, spinning and whirling in the little apartment above the salon.
Now, in the center of the disgusting bar, she did not close her eyesâshe kept them locked on Danielâsâbut she let the music flow through her and relinquished control of her body to the rhythm. As she shimmied and rocked her hips, moving ever closer to him, she occasionally spun so that she could see Ricardo watching her. And Ricardo was watching very closely, a satisfied smile on his face.
Danielâs composure began to slip when she was only a foot or two away from him. She moved her shoulders suggestively, moving sylph-like around him, tossing her hair and running her hands up and down her body. When the song ended, she bowed deeply, turning away from him so he had a magnificent view of her ass. She could feel her skirt riding up high on her hips and her breasts falling against the dress. When she stood up again, she was breathing heavily, her hair cascading around her shouldersâand Ricardo was standing directly in front of her.
âVery good, my pet,â he said. âYou make me proud.â Then he grasped her gently by the shoulders and turned her toward Daniel. She was close enough to Ricardo that her buttocks pressed against his groin, and she could feel his arousal pressing against her cleft. Her body clenched with need and it was all she could do to stop herself from rubbing against himâ¦and then she realized that she had not, in fact, stopped herself. The dance had only heightened her need, and her swollen pussy longed to be touched, used, fucked.
Through her needful haze, she watched Daniel shift awkwardly, and she allowed her gaze to travel down over the few dark hairs peeking out of his shirt, his muscular chest, the worn fabric of his jeansâand the stunning outline of a rock-hard, enormous cock straining against it. She looked back up at his face in time to see him lick his lips nervously.
âDid she please you, my friend?â Ricardo asked
Daniel stood in front of her, his expression veiled, his mouth set in a grim line. He looked neither threatening nor all that happy. What Ricardo had said to convince him, she had no idea.
The music pounded, the beat reaching through the floor and into her body. Was this some private joke, this strangerâs way of mocking her? A spark of irritation spurred Chelsea to stand straighter, to look disdainfully down her nose.
Daniel was actually fairly good looking, and if sheâd met him in other circumstances, she probably would have found him downright attractive. The effect was heightened by his lazy, amused confidence. He didnât seem the least bit intimidated by Ricardo or by her. In fact, he didnât seem all that interested.
Chelseaâs nipples swelled against the silky fabric of the dress as she contemplated making Daniel pay attention. What would it take, she wondered, to wipe that smug look off his face? It wasnât the need, the hunger that Ricardoâs touch gave her, but an entirely new sensationâa desire to play the game, to engage in a match of courage, to see which of them would blink first.
It damn well wasnât going to be her.
She locked eyes on Daniel and began to circle her hips in time to the music. She matched each pulse of the bass line with her body, and as she grew comfortable with the rhythm, she added sinuous motions with her arms.
Chelsea had never gone to nightclubs with girlfriendsâhell, sheâd never had that kind of girlfriend. But there had once been a time when she danced.
When sheâd run away from home, she had been taken in by two kindly salon owners in Chinatown, who allowed her to stay in the back room and gave her a job. They also acted as surrogate fathers, and after dinner they sometimes turned the radio up loud in the living room. Chelsea closed her eyes and let the music flow through her and found a tiny pocket of joy, spinning and whirling in the little apartment above the salon.
Now, in the center of the disgusting bar, she did not close her eyesâshe kept them locked on Danielâsâbut she let the music flow through her and relinquished control of her body to the rhythm. As she shimmied and rocked her hips, moving ever closer to him, she occasionally spun so that she could see Ricardo watching her. And Ricardo was watching very closely, a satisfied smile on his face.
Danielâs composure began to slip when she was only a foot or two away from him. She moved her shoulders suggestively, moving sylph-like around him, tossing her hair and running her hands up and down her body. When the song ended, she bowed deeply, turning away from him so he had a magnificent view of her ass. She could feel her skirt riding up high on her hips and her breasts falling against the dress. When she stood up again, she was breathing heavily, her hair cascading around her shouldersâand Ricardo was standing directly in front of her.
âVery good, my pet,â he said. âYou make me proud.â Then he grasped her gently by the shoulders and turned her toward Daniel. She was close enough to Ricardo that her buttocks pressed against his groin, and she could feel his arousal pressing against her cleft. Her body clenched with need and it was all she could do to stop herself from rubbing against himâ¦and then she realized that she had not, in fact, stopped herself. The dance had only heightened her need, and her swollen pussy longed to be touched, used, fucked.
Through her needful haze, she watched Daniel shift awkwardly, and she allowed her gaze to travel down over the few dark hairs peeking out of his shirt, his muscular chest, the worn fabric of his jeansâand the stunning outline of a rock-hard, enormous cock straining against it. She looked back up at his face in time to see him lick his lips nervously.
âDid she please you, my friend?â Ricardo asked
Similar Books
