French Quarter by Lacey Alexander (small books to read .TXT) 📕

Jack straightened slightly. “And you need to be home before he gets there?”

She shook her head. “No, I just need him to be gone from here, out of my sight, off my radar screen. As for getting home before him—I’m happy to let him wonder where I am for a change.”

He smiled back, clearly liking her tactics, then sobered. “So, you and this guy—you love him?”

She shook her head. “I thought I did, but that faded. Since then, our engagement has felt almost like an obligation—there’s family involved, joint business ventures, you name it. To them, not loving him wouldn’t have been enough. I needed a reason, hard evidence, and now I have it because I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

“Good,” he said. “You deserve somebody who can keep you happy.”

Her heart warmed a little at the words.

Then, as if almost on cue, the big-breasted blonde extracted herself from Todd’s lap across the room, and he stood up. Liz and Jack both watched. Wearing a lecherous grin, Todd gave the girl some money, whispered something near her ear, and started toward the door. For Liz, it felt like being released from jail. Not only did she owe him nothing now, but he was no longer here to watch her if she wanted to play.

“Tell me about a lap dance,” she said to Jack. Suddenly, she no longer cared if she didn’t appear experienced. Perhaps, she thought, because she also suddenly wanted to change all that, wanted to get experienced.

“What do you want to know?”

“How much does it cost? How does it work? Is there touching involved?”

He looked taken aback, aroused, before explaining. “You have to ask the stripper how much it costs—usually twenty dollars or so. You pay the girl, then she straddles you and dances. You can’t touch, but she can touch you. They generally don’t, but they can.”

Jack pointed to a nearby table where a young guy was getting a lap dance from a pretty girl with round, sexy breasts and long brown hair—she looked particularly impassioned by her work.

Together, she and Jack watched and Liz could have sworn her body temperature was steadily rising. The gorgeous stripper leaned down over the guy, teasing him, her beaded pink nipples so close to his mouth that Liz wondered how he kept himself from nibbling on them. The stripper’s hips ground into the guy’s crotch, making the spot between Liz’s thighs tingle hotly.

“Have you had them before?” she asked, still studying the intimate act.

Jack stopped watching the lap dance to look at her. She pulled her gaze from the stripper and met his eyes. “Yeah,” he said on a heated breath. “Why?”

“Just curious.” She took a sip of her drink and looked back at him, feeling daring, wanting—for once in her life—to just do something she felt like doing without weighing it, questioning it, or worrying about it. “Do women ever get them?”

His gaze remained steady. “I’ve seen women get ‘em on occasion.”

“I want one,” she said, her voice low.

She could tell she’d surprised him once more; herself, too.

“Really?”

She nodded. Before now, she’d never desired another woman, but sitting here watching them had excited her, made her wonder what it felt like to touch or be touched by another girl, as Lynda had. Of course, Jack had just told her she couldn’t touch them, but she simply wanted to do as Lynda had suggested and follow her urges, and her urge at the moment was to have a woman’s curves hovering over and around her. More than that, her urge was to have Jack watch.

Jack’s voice came even lower and huskier. “Did you have a particular girl in mind?”

“Her,” Liz said, pointing to the same brunette they’d been watching give a dance at the next table. She looked at him. “Can you arrange it?”

He nodded.

Jack couldn’t believe Liz wanted a lap dance. Her voice was so breathy asking him about it, her full lips so pouty and kissable, her eyes so wild with curious passion. As he rose to approach the same hot brunette he’d been aroused by the other night, his cock stood so stiff it was almost painful.

As the stripper finished working over the younger guy, rising off him and accepting her tip, she turned to where Jack stood waiting. “How much?” he asked.

“Is it for you?” she inquired and her eyes told him she wanted him to say yes.

“Afraid not.” He pointed toward Liz, gaze focused on the main stage now, where a stripper circled her pole in a Britney Spears schoolgirl outfit. “It’s for my…girlfriend.”

The brunette offered a small smile that made him think she wasn’t disappointed, after all, and that she liked doing women as well as men. “Twenty.”

He handed her the money and added, “By the way, she’s kind of…a virgin at this.”

The stripper flicked pretty deep brown eyes from Liz to him. “Your idea or hers?”

“Hers.”

Her smile widened. “Good.”

Together, they returned to the booth where Liz waited. Before sitting back down, Jack pulled the small round table back so the dancer could reach Liz.

The stripper looked at Liz like Liz usually looked at him—her eyes brimming with desire. “Hi, my name’s Felicia.” Her voice was as smooth as silk

Liz’s eyes dripped with sensuality and a hint of uncertainty. “Hi.” Her nipples jutted hot and pretty through the slick fabric of her dress.

A new song began, and without further ado, Felicia placed one knee on the seat of the plush burgundy booth next to Liz’s hip before straddling her completely. “Just relax and enjoy,” she said to Liz, who sank a little deeper into her seat as Felicia began to move.

Wearing only her requisite flesh-colored g-string and another sexy pair of fuck-me heels, she began to grind her pussy in hot, tight circles just an inch or so away from Liz’s. She caressed her big, beautiful breasts while Jack and Liz both watched. She tweaked her nipples and swayed them over Liz until they brushed against her