Chapter 1 #2
My chest tightens and my cock instantly swells just from the sight of his tight ass. He’s wearing a shimmery silver bodysuit with a fur wrap around his shoulders, and I watch, completely captivated as he shimmies up and down, bouncing his ass in my direction.
Fuck.
The urge to rub my aching cock is strong, but I resist. The torture is part of the fun.
Cashmere lets the wrap slide down his body to the floor, stepping over it as he turns around to face us.
My breath catches in my throat when his eyes settle on me and a slight smirk tugs at his lips.
As he dances, twirling suggestively around the stage, bending his body at obscene angles, and writhing on the floor right in front of me, my mind conjures all the things I’d do to him if he let me.
Slowly, he peels out of the bodysuit, revealing his toned body, his dark hair flowing down his back as he tilts his head, then slithering around so it covers his face.
Fuck, I want to touch his hair. It looks like silk, thick and shiny under the club lights.
His body is fucking heaven, but it’s his face that makes me weak.
I’ve never seen a man who looks like him.
He’s tight-lipped when we talk, but I did get out of him that he’s of Brazilian, French, and English heritage, and what a combination.
His features are delicate, all smooth skin and soft edges, but his eyes, sensual and unique in color, do me in.
They hold secrets I’m desperate to hear.
He’s taunting me now, lying on his back and arching, his cock straining against a tiny rhinestoned thong. He knows I want to touch him and he’s playing into it for the audience. I don’t mind. As long as his attention is on me, whatever he does works.
He doesn’t know that I’ve been trailing him for months.
I know where he lives, who he hangs out with, and the fact that he doesn’t have a romantic partner.
In fact, he seems to be as celibate as I pretend to be.
My motto is “if I can’t fuck him, I can fuck my way through a shit ton of stand-ins pretending they’re him.
” It’s wearing on me though. I need to break Cashmere down. I need him in my bed.
He moves into impressive splits before swinging his leg around and rising effortlessly from the floor.
With his legs spread, he bends at the waist, dragging his hand from his ass to his dick before standing again and doing a shimmy.
His body shimmers under the light with glitter and a light sheen of sweat, and as he drags his hands down his chest to his stomach, my cock twitches violently.
His nipples pebble under the exposure, and my mouth fucking waters with need.
I’ve convinced myself that if I could fuck him just once, I’d get over this obsession. I don’t want to think about anything outside of that. I’m not the guy who gets caught up in what-ifs. I live in the moment, and right now, I want Cashmere.
His set ends with him climbing a pole, and with only one leg wrapped around it, he leans back and swings in a slow circle as the curtain closes around him again.
As usual, the crowd goes wild, some of them whistling and standing to clap.
Cashmere is talented and popular, one of, if not the best dancer here.
I feel a twinge of jealousy and possessiveness listening to all the cheers and hoots, and when the curtain opens again, the stage is flooded with thrown money.
Cashmere doesn’t pick any of it up; he never does. Another guy comes out and crawls around the floor gathering it all up. I don’t throw any up. Cashmere already knows if he wants my cash he’ll have to pay me a visit.
My server appears with a fresh drink and I nod in acknowledgment, leaning back in my chair and waiting for Cashmere to grace me with his presence.
Does he visit me for any reason other than my cash?
I’d like to think his interest extends further.
If it doesn’t yet, it will. I don’t plan to move on until I get exactly what I want.
A few minutes go by before he appears, wrapped in a silky robe with fur around the collar. He smiles as he passes enthusiastic customers, slapping the hand of one of them away, drawing a soft growl from me. He beelines it straight to my table, like the good boy he is.
“Specter,” he says in his soft, obviously meant to be seductive tone. “May I sit?”
“You know you can.” I lean in. “Want a drink?”
“Of course.”
Lifting my hand, I wave to the server, who hurries over. “What can I get you, Cashmere?”
“The usual, Darcy. Thanks.”
Cashmere drags a hand through his luxurious shoulder-length hair, snapping a piece of gum in his mouth.
I can’t take my eyes off his perfect face.
When he’s up close like this, I can see the freckles that dot his nose and cheeks, even under his makeup.
And his lips. Goddamn. Those things are made for sin.
“You’re in later than usual,” Cashmere says casually, but I catch it. He notices.
“I was busy, but I always make time to see you.”
He looks amused as he glances around the club before returning his sultry gaze to me. “Should I be jealous?”
I scoff. “Hardly. I was working.”
“Oh yes, the job you won’t tell me about.”
“You remember the deal. I’ll tell you when you’re in my bed.”
He smiles, shaking his head and playing with the two rings stacked on his right middle finger. “I admire your persistence, but it’s not happening. Not ever.”
“We’ll see. I’m not exactly known for walking away from things I want.”
“I’m not a thing, Specter.”
“I know, gorgeous. You deserve to be worshipped and I’m more than ready to pray at your altar. Give me a shot. You won’t regret it.”
Cashmere affects an annoyed expression, but he does this every time we chat. Sometimes, I could swear he wants me, but for some reason, he won’t allow it.
“But don’t worry, I got time. All the time in the world for you, Cashmere.”
The server returns, dropping off a dark purple cocktail for Cashmere. He sips it, glancing around and avoiding my gaze.
“I’m sure you can find other people to fuck,” he finally says.
“Sure, but I don’t want other people.”
“Maybe I’d disappoint you.”
I laugh at that. “We both know that isn’t true. You might ruin me though.”
He turns his gaze on me, his lips curling in amusement. “Yes, I would. I’m only protecting you.”
I put my hand on his wrist. “I don’t need protecting. I’m a big boy. I can handle your corruption.”
His gaze heats even as he slowly withdraws his arm from my reach. “No touching. Club rules.”
Fuck. He drives me wild. I’d break every rule and law just to have one night with him.
Cashmere licks his lips after taking a sip of his cocktail. I don’t say anything, because words don’t work on him. I’m hoping my consistent interest might wear him down. Fuck knows I spend a shitload of money here in an attempt to earn his attention.
I refuse to believe it’s all about the money though. There are a lot of men here who would willingly throw cash at him, but he chooses me every time. He’s got a wall around him, but I’m patient. I’ll tear it down brick by brick.
“I should go,” he says.
“No, you should stay.”
“But the other customers—”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I growl. “I’m here.”
He snaps his gum, staring me down with those sensual eyes. “You’re dangerous, Specter.”
“Not to you. You could get me to do anything you wanted.”
A slight smile tugs at his lips. “I know. That’s what makes you dangerous.”
Sensing he’s going to leave regardless of what I want, I pull out a wad of cash and press it into his hand, lingering over the momentary skin to skin contact, even if it is just our palms.
“I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
Cashmere nods, taking the cash and stuffing it into his bodysuit. “Good. I have something fun planned. I hope you like it.”
“I will. There’s no doubt about that.”
Cashmere leans across the table toward me, so close I can smell the fruity cocktail on his breath.
There’s barely an inch of space between us, and it would be so easy to hook my hand behind his neck and pull him in for the kiss I want so damn bad.
But he hovers there, his gaze roaming from my eyes to my lips and back again.
“Thanks for the drink, Specter. Have a nice night.”
He moves back before I can react, leaving me panting with my dick hard.
Jesus, this man is gonna be my fucking ruin.