Chapter Four Quinn
A s I entered the private room, I inwardly groaned. Callum hadn’t been giving me shite about Taylor Swift. Lover jolted through my brain as a petite blonde twirled on the pole. “Fucking coeds,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way over to Paula, our chameleon who handled PR as well auditions and wrangling of the dancers.
Even though I’d known her for two years, she remained visibly uncomfortable in my presence. Although she fought it, I always saw the change in her pulse and breathing when we were alone.
But today she appeared more at ease. Her smile seemed almost genuine. Jerking her chin to the stage, she said, “If she survives the lap dance, she’s going to be a star.”
With a grunt, I replied, “What makes her so special?”
“Besides being fucking aerobatic on the pole? She’s got everything to drive the men wild. A real wide-eyed innocence coupled with off-the-charts sex appeal.”
After three years, I couldn’t help being a little skeptical. “We’ll see.”
“Isla?” Paula questioned.
The girl quickly dismounted the pole. The moment I saw her face a jolt thundered through me. Of all the hundreds and hundreds of women I’d encountered in my twenty-nine years, she was the most beautiful one I’d ever seen. So beautiful, she stole my breath.
With her blonde hair and blue eyes, she had an ethereal quality to her. She could’ve been the Irish goddess and fairy queen Cliodna–the most beautiful woman in the world according to our folklore.
For the first time since the accident, I found myself truly desiring a woman not just in the bedroom. In the past two years, I’d taken numerous women to my bed. Some became regulars and some were non-repeaters. I’d never wanted to pursue anything with them other than sex. They were a means to scratch an itch I had.
But Isla was different.
It wasn’t about her beauty. She appeared approachable. Not to mention she was the epitome of a girl you took home to your mother, which was ironic considering she was about to take her clothes off for me. Her tiny stature brought out the protector in me.
As her wide-eyed gaze trailed from my chest up to my face, her throat bobbed. My skin shrunk over my bones at her appraisal. I waited for the obligatory flash of terror or disgust to fill her eyes that I’d seen so many times over the last two years. The forced smile. The feigned appreciation to be in my presence.
To my surprise, she blurted, “You’re a long drink of water, aren’t you?”
While Paula turned a laugh into a cough,I furrowed my brows at Isla. “Excuse me?”
“You’re so big .” The minute the words left her mouth a red flush entered her cheeks. “I mean, you’re really tall.”
“Aye, I am.”
A giggle escaped her perfect red lips. “Of course anyone who stands next to me is tall. I’m so vertically challenged.”
Furrowing my brows, I flicked my gaze to Paula. Amusement danced in her green eyes. “Isla, this is Quinn Kavanaugh.”
She thrust out of her hand. Surprise flooded her face when I didn’t offer her mine. A shaky smile curved on her face. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Kavanaugh.”
When I nodded at her, Paula said, “Isla is in graduate school at MIT. She also grew up in Southborough.”
“Fascinating,” I grumbled. Ignoring Isla’s surprised gasp, I motioned to the leather couch. “Let’s get on with it.”
Paula patted Isla on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Isla murmured.
Once we were alone, I shed my suit jacket, and threw it on the back of the couch. After flopping down on the cushions, I widened my legs in the usual stance. When I glanced up, Isla stood frozen.
“All right. Lose the top and let’s get on with this.”
“I-I can’t,” she murmured.
I cursed myself for not making a bet with Callum on how far in the dance she’d actually get. I shouldn’t have been surprised that she wouldn’t even get on my lap. She probably couldn’t bring herself to sully her pure body with the likes of me.
Anger flooded me at her judgment. I’m sure if it had been Dare or Callum she would’ve happily crawled up into their laps.
With a growl, I shot out of my seat. “Thanks for not only wasting my time, but yours.”
Just as I started past her, she grabbed my hand, her fingertips sliding along the patch of scars. The touch of her skin sent electricity pricking from my fingertips all the way up my arm, causing me to shudder. Normally whenever someone touched me I felt nothing but a volatile mixture of shame and anger.
But not with Isla.
Unable to process the emotions swirling within me, I flung her hand away. Glowering down at her, I snarled, “Don’t touch me!”
After cowering back, an apologetic look appeared on her face. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I needed to get your attention.”
I shook my head at her. “We’re done here.”
“Please. Just let me have another chance. I’m nervous, that’s all.”
“Ms. Vaughn, there’s a reason we have practice runs at private dancing under the guise of auditions. There’s also a reason why I’m used to make or break girls. Regardless of how good you are at the pole or at dancing, it comes down to whether or not you can get a guy off. You balked at even trying, so you failed.”
When she winced, the slightest sliver of regret filled me. Normally, I didn’t give two shits if I hurt the dancers’ feelings. But I didn’t like that I had insulted her. I sure as hell didn’t like that I cared about hurting her.
“I know that. But once I get through my first one, I know I can do it. I’m a very fast learner when it comes to mastering concepts.”
The former regret I’d felt vanished to be replaced by irritation. “I’ve heard that excuse a thousand fucking times.”
“Please, I really need this job.”
“Just like I’ve heard that one as many times as well.”
“It’s the truth. I lost my grad school scholarship.”
Sneering, I replied, “Partying too much at the frat house?”
She winced. “No, I lost my parents two years ago in a car accident.”
You’re a real fucking bastard, you know that? But I didn’t give in to my feelings of regret. Instead, I cranked up my cruelty. Anything to get rid of her and what she awakened within me.
“We all have trauma, Ms. Vaughn.”
“I know. I swear I’m not asking for any favors. I mean, I am asking a favor for a second chance. It’s not just about me. I’m in charge of my younger sister now. Well, since she’s turned eighteen, I guess she’s in charge of herself, but trust me, she desperately needs a motherly figure, even though she’s a mother herself.”
As I blinked at her, Isla sucked in a breath and then just kept running her fucking mouth. “Although she was the perfect student and athlete, her grief at my parents’ death led her to accidentally procreate with the most worthless jackass of a sperm donor. He wants nothing to do with the child, nor does he help financially. I’ve tried to get Brooke to take him to court, but she won’t. Don’t get me wrong, her son, Henry, is the most amazing four-month-old in the world. But being a teen mom isn’t what I would want for my baby sister, you know? And then–”
“Do you ever just shut the fuck up?” I demanded.
With crimson dotting her cheeks, she tucked her head to her chest. “I’m sorry. I’m the worst rambler when I get nervous. Like I seriously can’t make it stop. I used to get in so much trouble in school because of it. I would be nervous about a test, and then all the sudden I would be popping off–”
When she met my exasperated gaze, she pinched her lips shut. “I’m done.”
I waited for a few moments to see if she was telling the truth. When she didn’t respond, I said, “It’s only out of morbid curiosity that I’ve not thrown you out. Although I don’t want you going on another verbal rampage, I would like to know how the hell do you expect to be a dancer if you can’t perform a lap dance?”
She shook her head wildly back and forth. “No, it’s not that I can’t . It’s just…” She nibbled on her lip. “I don’t know how.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Excuse me?”
“I swear, I prepared for this. I watched a ton of Youtube videos, so I know the basics of how to do it. But I’m having some sort of a block.”
“I’m sure even if I don’t ask, you’re going to tell me why you have a block.”
Her head bobbed enthusiastically. “You see, I don’t have a lot of experience with men. I’ve only dated two guys, and they’re what my sister swears are totally vanilla. I’ve never even had an orgasm. I mean, with a guy . Obviously I’ve given them to myself.”
Although I shouldn’t have, I couldn’t help asking, “Not even when they went down on you?”
“Nope. Not even then.”
“What kind of pussies have you been dating that can’t get you off?”
Isla’s eyes bulged comically wide when she finally realized her admission. “Oh God, did I really just tell you I’d never had an orgasm with a guy?”
“Aye, you did.”
With a shriek, her hands came over her face. After a few seconds of shaking her head back and forth, she removed her hands and gave me a tight smile. “Can we just forget I said that?”
“I can try,” I mused.
“Good. Anyway, what I meant to say, before I got horribly off course, is I’m not sure how to properly perform a lap dance to your liking.”
“I see.”
“You could teach me,” she suggested in a soft voice.
I eyed her curiously. Had my own hang ups about my appearance caused me to have preconceived notions about her? Or was she just playing the innocence card to try and convince me to give her another try.
“To be clear, your earlier aversion to performing wasn’t about you being scared of me and my scars?”
Isla frowned. “Why would I be scared of those?”
I cocked my head at her. “They seriously don’t intimidate you?”
She shook her head. “It’s not like you can help them, right?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“Are they terribly painful?” When she reached out to touch one on my face, I jumped back before smacking her hand away. Her blue eyes widened in horror. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
As I tried to stop my erratic breathing, I glared at Isla. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Nothing. I swear.” When I remained glowering, she added, “Although there’s absolutely no excuse, I’m a molecular biologist. Well, I mean, that’s what my undergrad is in. I’ve studied hypertrophic scars. Actually, it was more about the treatments like laser or cryotherapy.”
“My scars…interest you?”
She nodded. “If I had to wager, I’d say they were from burning. Am I right?”
Although I should've been intrigued by her ability to guess, it also slightly unnerved me that she was able to know me so well. “I’m not one of the guinea pigs in a lab for you to poke and prod, Ms. Vaughn.”
Before I could answer, she rushed on, “It’s not just about science. My grandfather had shrapnel scars on his chest and stomach from Vietnam.” Her expression grew sad. “Years and years later they would still ache.”
I opened my mouth to bite back that I didn’t give a shit about her grandfather’s fucking scars. But then I quickly closed it.
And then the realization rocketed through me.
There was a woman standing in front of me who wasn’t repulsed by my scars. While there was empathy, she hadn’t pitied me. She wanted to understand my pain.
It was both freeing and frightening.
Tilting her head at me, Isla questioned, “So will you teach me?”
If I allowed myself to teach her, I would be breaking not only my rules, but the club’s. My lap dance was the test to make or break a dancer. Within the parameters of those rules, Isla had obviously failed and should be shown the door.
By teaching her, I’d be allowing Isla to cheat. In a way, I’d be choosing her over my brothers. Well, at least over their business model.
Who the fuck was I kidding? A man like me didn’t concern himself with morality. What would it hurt to give Isla a leg up? I could assure her silence to the other girls about her audition. No one would be the wiser.
“Please,” Isla implored.
“Fine,” I grunted.
Her blue eyes popped wide. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, I can never thank you enough!”
“Can you at least shut up and listen?”
“Mm, hmm,” she replied with a cheeky little smile.
God, this woman. She was like staring down the barrel of a gun and not flinching or moving. She would be the fucking death of me.
Without another word to Isla, I took my place on the sofa. After once again assuming the position, I said, “The first thing you’re going to do is touch me.”
Her gaze dropped to my crotch. “There?”
To both of our surprise, a laugh tore from my lips. “No. You never touch a cock. Well, at least not with your hands.”
“Oh, um, okay.”
“You’re not going for the obvious right out of the bat. You want to tease the desire from them. You want them aching for you.”
When Isla licked her lips, I fought the urge to groan. “I can do that,” she murmured.
“The way you’re going to set them on fire is with your hands on their body.”
She frowned. “Do I start at the top and work my way down?”
With an exasperated sigh, I demanded, “You’ve ridden a guy, right?” At her squeak, I replied, “Where is the focus of your hands when you’re fucking?”
“Uh, his shoulders and chest.”
“Right. Start with the chest.”
As she bent over me, the sweet smell of her shampoo filled my nose. It had a hint of vanilla. Isla tentatively placed her hands on my chest. At the gentle swirl of her palms on my pecs, I growled and smacked my hands over hers. “Harder.”
She licked her lips. “Okay.”
I slid her hands down my chest and over my abdomen. When we got closer to my cock, she tensed. “We’re not touching that, remember?”
“Right,” she murmured.
After bypassing my crotch, I slid her hands down my thighs and then back up to my hips. “Yes, like that.”
“How long do I do it?”
“You want them rising to the occasion before you ever get on their lap.”
Her cheeks warmed again. “I see.”
“But you’re not staying on the thighs the whole time. Go back to the chest and even up the neck. Then you’re going to withdraw your touch to tease them even more.”
She frowned as she took her hands from me. “What do I do now?”
“You dance to tease me. You move your body like you want to fuck me.”
To my surprise, Isla didn’t protest that she didn’t know what to do. She had a dancer’s heart. Slowly, her hips began to sway.
Her hands traveled over her body.
Her eyes closed in exaggerated bliss.
Her mouth opened for her tongue to lick along her lips.
As I stared at her, heat began to stir below my waist. At the sight of her arms going around her back to undo her top, my breath hitched. When the glittery material fell free from her breasts, my mouth ran dry as my cock slammed against my zipper.
She opened her eyes to pin with a stare. With a shy smile, she flung her top to the floor. “You didn’t tell me to, but I thought it was the right time.”
“Good instincts.”
And fucking mouth-watering tits . They sat high and heavy. The kind you knew were natural. My hands itched at my sides to touch them. I wanted to squeeze them before teasing the nipples into hardened points with my fingertips. Then I would take the aching peaks deep into my mouth.
It was then Isla’s gaze dropped to my lap and now tented pants. “Oh,” she murmured.
“That’s what you do to me.”
“But I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You don’t have to, Little Dove. Just the sight of you makes me ache.”
She swept a piece of hair behind her ear and then peeked at me through her eyelashes. “I do?”
“Don’t ever second guess your beauty and sex appeal again. You keep your head high like the fucking goddess you are.
Isla’s chin turned up. “What do I do now?” she questioned, her voice lower and more seductive.
“Turn around to where your back is facing me.” Always obedient, Isla did as I asked. It was a hell of a fucking turn-on. I got even harder imagining commanding her in the bedroom.
“Place your hands on my knees, and then slide your ass slowly down my chest and onto my lap.”
At the sight of her full, round ass cheeks inches from my mouth, a long groan erupted from my lips. Isla’s descent froze before she threw a look at me over her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
I chuckled. “You better get used to that noise. Men are going to be making it all the time around you.”
“Oh,” she murmured before ducking her head.
“Don’t shy away from your power, Isla. You’re the one who controls this. You control my pleasure and theirs. Don’t ever forget who is in charge.”
At her nod, I then said, “Now start rolling your hips on my dick. Imagine you’re riding me reverse cowgirl.”
I had to give it to her–the girl could work a cock. The dancing ability she possessed gave her an effortless swivel of her hips. “You can bounce on me, too.”
At her practically twerking, I couldn’t fight the groan that escaped my lips. “Do you like that Quinn?” she questioned breathlessly.
Although I fucking loved the sound of my name on her lips, I couldn’t help but ask, “Who said you could call me by my first name?”
Ever obedient, Isla replied, “I’m sorry. Do you like that, Mr. Kavanaugh .” When I didn’t reply, she threw a tentative look over her shoulder. “Do you like that, sir ?”
“Fuck me,” I muttered. Although it was pure sin hearing her call me sir, there was something within me that wanted to hear my name from her lips. It made it far more intimate. Sir was a name reserved strictly for sex while my given name gave us a connection beyond the act we were currently engaged in.
“Quinn is what you should call me.”
She nodded. “What is it you’d have me do now, Quinn…sir.”
A dark chuckle rumbled through me. “Oh, so you’re a cheeky lass, huh?”
“I just want to please you,” she argued.
“It pleases me when you do as I tell you to, and I told you to call me Quinn.”
“But I know you liked me calling you sir,” she argued.
“Aye, you’re right. I do like it. I like it too much.”
As she gazed longingly at me over her shoulder, I shook my head. “Enough.” Sliding my hands around her waist, I lifted her to her feet. “It’s time to switch things up. Men are visual. Although they’ll enjoy seeing your ass, they’ll want your tits in their face.”
Instead of needing further direction, Isla rose off my lap to do a slinky turn to where she was facing me. As she swiveled her hips and curved her body, she lifted one of her legs. She pointed her toes as she slid her foot over one of my thighs. As she straddled me, she stared down at me with lust glittering in her blue eyes.
Instead of directing her, I allowed her to take the reins. Her hands came to my hair. As she jerked her fingers through the strands, her luscious tits brushed against my cheeks. She inched tediously back down on my dick, cupping my face in her hands before running her hands down to my shoulder. Lifting her hips, she began to ride me just as she would if my cock was buried deep in her walls.
When we locked eyes, every molecule in my body detonated, causing me to shudder. In that instant, I knew nothing would ever be the same for me. The connection between us was undeniable. From the mystified look in her eyes, I knew she was experiencing it too.
When I thrust my hips into her center, Isla sucked in a harsh breath, her fingertips painfully gripped my shoulders. It felt as if she was holding on to me for dear life. As I thrust into her center again, she whimpered.
“That’s it, Little Dove. Tell me how much you want me.”
With a shake of her head, she protested, “I shouldn’t like this.”
“Yes, you should.”
She licked her lips. “But only with you.”
I nodded. “But only with me.”
Although we were both gasping and panting from the intense pleasure between us, I wanted more.
I needed more.
To get what we both needed, I had to cross a line I’d never crossed with a dancer before. After sucking in a ragged breath, I rasped, “I want to touch you."