“Show me how bad you need it,
Twyla. Pick ‘em up, and get undressed. Earn your money. I’m getting
tired of waiting.”
He knew he was being rough and cold with her,
and doing it made him sick at his stomach. Treating her like the
dancers he’d paid at those strip clubs he visited on the road, made
him sick. But that was the only way he was going to get through to
her. To treat her exactly how she was acting. His heart wasn’t in
it, but his body damned sure was. The thought of having her hover
over him, her heat teasing him, made his dick grow thick under his
palm.
Excitement buzzed along his nerve endings as
he stroked himself, waiting for her to move. Her eyes shot up to
his and there was fear there now. Her face was a mask of
embarrassed shock. Good, she needed to be ashamed. Maybe Twyla
finally realized exactly what she’d been doing by dancing at that
bar, the life she was buying into. There was no way Ryan was
letting her off the hook that easily though. He wanted to make
damned sure she didn’t forget this lesson tomorrow
morning.
She gnawed her lower lip, then finally bent to
gather up the money. She stuffed the bills into the pocket of her
almost non-existent shorts, then stood. Spearing him with her eyes,
she folded her arms over her chest, and the corner of her mouth
kicked up smugly. “That should be insurance enough that I don’t
tell Zack about this and get your ass kicked.”
Blackmail? Well, two could play her game. She
had more to lose than he did, really. “And I’m paying you for
something I could get for free if I threatened to tell your folks
what you’re up to…to tell Zack,” he challenged with a lifted brow.
“If I were you, sugar, I’d be thankful. I’d also get undressed and
start dancing, before I change my mind and make that
call.”
Twyla didn’t move, but her body tensed as she
thought about it. It looked like he needed to up the ante some, and
Ryan knew just what button to push. “And then there’s always
Grandma Sibley. I’m sure she’d be extremely interested in what her
precious granddaughter is up to here in the big city.”
Twyla gasped and her face went chalk white.
“You wouldn’t…”
“ Oh, yes I would. All of the
above,” he said calmly, with a smug smile of his own.
Twyla wasn’t smiling now. Her hands trembled
as she fumbled with the button on her shorts. She shot him an angry
glare as she jerked the two inch zipper to the bottom then shoved
her shorts over her hips. His eyes followed the worn denim down her
long legs until they reached her ankles. Slowly his gaze glided
upward until he met her hurt, angry eyes. “That thong isn’t going
to do you any good. Drop it.”
“ I’m not taking off my panties,”
she said firmly, covering her lower body with her hands.
Ryan leaned up on the sofa and shoved his hand
into his pocket. When he pulled his hand out holding his cell
phone, she growled and hooked her thumbs into the thin black
elastic at her hips and pushed them down. Ryan couldn’t stop his
eyes from locking on the soft blonde fluff at the apex of her
thighs. He also couldn’t help his body going rock hard as the need
to see her soft, wet center slammed into him. She stood there
staring at him with accusation and hatred in her icy blue eyes. If
they were laser beams he’d be frozen solid where he sat.
Swallowing hard, he tried to regulate his
uneven breathing, slow his galloping heart. “Take your top off,” he
instructed, cringing at the rusty quality to his voice.
“ I don’t have on a bra,” she
informed gruffly.
“ I know that. You’re wearing it as
a damned top. Take it off. I think you know what naked means,
Twyla. You were halfway there before you started
undressing.”
Her hands shook harder as she grabbed the band
of the sports bra. She stopped and the shaking encompassed her
whole body, even her lower lip trembled. “Don’t make me do this,
Ryan,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.
“ This is what
Twyla. Pick ‘em up, and get undressed. Earn your money. I’m getting
tired of waiting.”
He knew he was being rough and cold with her,
and doing it made him sick at his stomach. Treating her like the
dancers he’d paid at those strip clubs he visited on the road, made
him sick. But that was the only way he was going to get through to
her. To treat her exactly how she was acting. His heart wasn’t in
it, but his body damned sure was. The thought of having her hover
over him, her heat teasing him, made his dick grow thick under his
palm.
Excitement buzzed along his nerve endings as
he stroked himself, waiting for her to move. Her eyes shot up to
his and there was fear there now. Her face was a mask of
embarrassed shock. Good, she needed to be ashamed. Maybe Twyla
finally realized exactly what she’d been doing by dancing at that
bar, the life she was buying into. There was no way Ryan was
letting her off the hook that easily though. He wanted to make
damned sure she didn’t forget this lesson tomorrow
morning.
She gnawed her lower lip, then finally bent to
gather up the money. She stuffed the bills into the pocket of her
almost non-existent shorts, then stood. Spearing him with her eyes,
she folded her arms over her chest, and the corner of her mouth
kicked up smugly. “That should be insurance enough that I don’t
tell Zack about this and get your ass kicked.”
Blackmail? Well, two could play her game. She
had more to lose than he did, really. “And I’m paying you for
something I could get for free if I threatened to tell your folks
what you’re up to…to tell Zack,” he challenged with a lifted brow.
“If I were you, sugar, I’d be thankful. I’d also get undressed and
start dancing, before I change my mind and make that
call.”
Twyla didn’t move, but her body tensed as she
thought about it. It looked like he needed to up the ante some, and
Ryan knew just what button to push. “And then there’s always
Grandma Sibley. I’m sure she’d be extremely interested in what her
precious granddaughter is up to here in the big city.”
Twyla gasped and her face went chalk white.
“You wouldn’t…”
“ Oh, yes I would. All of the
above,” he said calmly, with a smug smile of his own.
Twyla wasn’t smiling now. Her hands trembled
as she fumbled with the button on her shorts. She shot him an angry
glare as she jerked the two inch zipper to the bottom then shoved
her shorts over her hips. His eyes followed the worn denim down her
long legs until they reached her ankles. Slowly his gaze glided
upward until he met her hurt, angry eyes. “That thong isn’t going
to do you any good. Drop it.”
“ I’m not taking off my panties,”
she said firmly, covering her lower body with her hands.
Ryan leaned up on the sofa and shoved his hand
into his pocket. When he pulled his hand out holding his cell
phone, she growled and hooked her thumbs into the thin black
elastic at her hips and pushed them down. Ryan couldn’t stop his
eyes from locking on the soft blonde fluff at the apex of her
thighs. He also couldn’t help his body going rock hard as the need
to see her soft, wet center slammed into him. She stood there
staring at him with accusation and hatred in her icy blue eyes. If
they were laser beams he’d be frozen solid where he sat.
Swallowing hard, he tried to regulate his
uneven breathing, slow his galloping heart. “Take your top off,” he
instructed, cringing at the rusty quality to his voice.
“ I don’t have on a bra,” she
informed gruffly.
“ I know that. You’re wearing it as
a damned top. Take it off. I think you know what naked means,
Twyla. You were halfway there before you started
undressing.”
Her hands shook harder as she grabbed the band
of the sports bra. She stopped and the shaking encompassed her
whole body, even her lower lip trembled. “Don’t make me do this,
Ryan,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.
“ This is what
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