“I can’t decide if you’re insane, or brilliant,” I grind out between my teeth.
“A little of both,” he replies, his breath puffing out against my cheek.
“Did you only come here to get into my panties, or to start a fight?” I rub relentlessly at his hard on, giddy at the power I have over him. I’m still terrified that falling in love with Edward will ruin everything.
“Definitely to stir you up. I plan on getting into your panties later tonight, but now, you’re due on stage.”
“That’s terribly unfair of you,” I remark, my pussy throbbing at the thought of having to wait.
“It’s the job, Cinnamon. Never forget it’s just a job.” He sounds almost desperate as he says it, so I try to turn the mood back around.
“And if I drip onstage, you’ll know it’s all because of you,” I tell him, grabbing his hand and stroking his long fingers between my legs and over my damp panties.
“Fuck,” Edward breathes.
“Nope.” I back away, opening the door and hurrying out before I change my mind. Judging by the song that’s on—one that typically turns the guys into drooling fools because of the suggestion of a blow job—it’s true that it’s almost my turn. I head backstage to catch my breath, and I get a look at myself in the mirror.
My cheeks are red, like the most expensive rouge couldn’t fake. My eyes are bright, reflecting the arousal Edward brought about in me. My hair is a bit tousled, looking like I just fooled around at the least and got fucked at the most. Perfect, really. All the better to lure in the men.
I step out onto the dark stage, and all other thoughts leave my head as I focus on my dance. It’s the balm I need, to my soul, my brain, my body. I know what and who I am when I dance. Though Cinnamon is my persona, Bella is the most comfortable in this place and time, every time. I spot Edward front and center as the lights come up, but I ignore the money he holds out. Not until my dance is over; only then will I move around the stage to accept tips. I let the music pulse through me, closing my eyes as I run my hands over my body. I open my eyes as the music swells, and I launch myself at the pole, swinging and spinning upside down with just my legs. My hands touch the floor, and I use them for leverage as I come down from the pole in a flip.
Exhilarated as the song ends, I fake a curtsy and make my way around to the sound of applause and plenty of whistles and calls for more. I turn my back as I approach Edward, bending into a squat and offering him my ass.
I hear the sound in his throat just before his touch ghosts over my lace covered cheeks, and then he tucks the money in my garter belt and I straighten. I feel the pull, the connection I have to him already, and wonder for the hundredth time what the fuck we’re doing.
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