FrenchQuarter.htm by Alexander Lacey (free ebook reader for ipad TXT) 📕

He took Liz’s hand, motioning her toward the small semi-circular booth.

“Like a drink?”

She drew her eyes from the main stage where a buxom blonde had stripped down to a Stetson and chaps, breasts bouncing as she danced, then lifted her pretty gaze to him. Damn, he wanted her—right here, right now. Maybe bringing her here wasn’t a smart idea. He’d intended to keep his pants zipped—at least until the case was finished, until he’d proven to her what she wanted to know about her fiancé—but at the moment, he wasn’t sure he could stick to his own rule.

“A screwdriver,” she said. “Tell them to make it strong.”

He grinned. “Gotcha.”

As Jack ordered their drinks from a gorgeous young girl in a tiny bikini, Liz kept watching the dancers. She knew she should be looking for Todd, or maybe a guy who looked something like Todd but wasn’t him, yet she couldn’t pull her eyes from the lush flesh being paraded all around her in the room. She’d felt herself surge with moisture upon first seeing Jack and now she felt it even more; her mound pulsed with heat as she watched the women play with their breasts, teasing the audience by wiggling their g-strings. Her own breasts felt large and achy, and when she dared glance down at herself in the semi-lit room, she saw her nipples jutting out, even through the bra beneath her dress. Of course, the dress was Lynda’s, and that meant it was a little snug over Liz’s bigger chest, and feeling the fabric stretch to hold her in only added to her arousal.

She and Jack didn’t speak much. He paid for both their drinks, asked her if she needed anything else. Sex, she thought. I need you inside me so bad. But she didn’t say that, of course. She just kept watching the girls wriggle and sway and gyrate and tease, watched the breasts and legs and asses parade past her, let herself get drunk on the raw sensuality filling her senses. Before long, her eyes were drawn away from the stage—to darker corners where nearly naked girls danced in men’s laps, jiggled their chests before their eyes, rubbed themselves while the guys watched, while she watched. The entire room was dripping with undiluted, unrefined sex.

“Chere,” Jack said.

She looked up at him, let herself get lost in his eyes and felt her whole body melting, wanting to be touched by him, wanting to dance in his lap.

“You might want to brace yourself,” he told her.

She blinked, the words stopping a little of her sensuous melt.

“I see Todd,” he said near her ear. “Over by the bar, along the wall.”

Liz looked. She instantly saw Todd, too. A busty blonde, a’la Pamela Anderson, hovered over him. She tweaked her nipples and licked her lips while she swayed in liquid rhythm to the music. Todd watched her, looking intoxicated with lust.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Jack asked.

She nodded, still watching.

“I’m sorry, chere.”

“No, don’t be. I’m glad I know.” Still, she focused on the scene across the room, trying to absorb it. She really was surprised Jack had been right—really hadn’t believed this could be Todd’s indulgence of choice.

“I know this must hurt,” Jack said. He slid one strong arm around her, gently caressing her bare shoulder.

“No, actually, it doesn’t.” The words were as surprising to her as they probably were to Jack. She knew she didn’t love Todd, probably never had, but she’d still expected seeing him in the act—of cheating, of having a naked woman in his lap, whatever—to inflict some pain. Humiliation. The same embarrassment that had had her dressing sexy to go hire a P.I., the embarrassment of knowing for sure she wasn’t enough for him. But that wasn’t what she felt.

“Really? You’re okay?”

She drew her eyes from Todd and the blonde to look at Jack. God, he was hot—he hadn’t shaved today, and those dark eyes of his were suddenly so kind, so tender. He actually cared how she felt.

“It’s…almost a relief,” she told him. “It means…I’m not tied to him anymore. I have no reason to be loyal to him…to feel any guilt if I …” Her voice trailed off, but their gazes stayed locked.

It took a moment before he spoke. “What do you want to do now? Confront him? Leave?”

Practically the same question Lynda had posed, and the answer was one Liz couldn’t have predicted. “No,” she said softly. “I think I want to stay a while.”

Jack looked intrigued. “Why?”

Her breath turned thready. “I want to see more, want to know what it’s all about. If Todd can do this, so can I.”

He tilted his head. “You’re not…tryin’ to condone his behavior, are you? Somehow hopin’ you’ll decide it’s all right? Because it’s not. Once you commit to a woman, you don’t lie to her, and you especially don’t lie to her about havin’ naked chicks bounce around on your lap.”

She gave him a thoughtful look, fascinated. “Why, Jack, I’m surprised. You hadn’t struck me as such a…moral guy.”

A wicked grin crept across his face. “Don’t be too impressed by my morals, chere. I’m as much an alley cat as the next guy.” The grin faded back to seriousness. “But I’m not married or in a relationship, and that’s what makes it different. If I was in a relationship, I’d be honest, about anything and everything.”

“So if, say, you and I were in a relationship, and you wanted to come here and get a lap dance, you’d ask for my permission?” The passion in her veins was on the verge of turning her playful, despite or maybe because of Todd. She was free now, free to do whatever she wanted, to let go of her inhibitions like Lynda had advised.

“Absolutely,” he said, an air of teasing in his voice.

“And if I said yes?”

His voice went low, smoky. “I’d ask you to come and watch.”

“And if I said no?”

He leaned slightly closer. “I’d ask you to give me one