Too hot to handle: A curvy girl romance Page 3

  “Now…” he spoke into his mic. His voice was deep and sexy, and another series of shrieks went up from the audience around me. He seriously owned this place, and he had barely been on-stage for three minutes.

  “Put your hand up if you don’t want to come up on stage with me tonight,” he grinned, casting a look around the audience. I looked around and saw only about a dozen hands in the whole place that went up, from friends who looked as though they’d been dragged here by someone else. I bit my lip and returned my gaze to the stage, and there he was, looking down at me again.

  “Because I’m going to need someone to come up here and give me a hand.” He looked over the audience once more. Another cheer raised the roof.

  “Who’s going to help me?”

  Pretty much every single woman in that room seemed as though she would have been happy to volunteer, and I whooped right along with them, letting him know that I was very much in their midst. He lifted his finger, letting it rove over the crowd, and then, to my utter shock—

  It came to rest on me.

  I stood there and just stared at him for a moment. No. Out of all the women in this room, there was no way that he was pointing at me. I glanced over at Eleanor, and I instantly figured out from the foul look she was giving me that yes, he really was pointing at me.

  “In the blue dress down there,” he announced, smiling directly at me. “Get up here, Gorgeous.”

  Me gorgeous. Did he just call me gorgeous? I continued to just stand there, peering up at him as though I had no idea what he was asking me. And then, I felt a nudge in my side. The woman next to me, a big smile on her face, was pointing to the stage.

  “Go on you lucky thing, get up there!” she ordered me. I forgot about Eleanor glowering beside me. I beamed and grinned and blushed and finally did as I was told. The crowd whooped me along, and I felt as though my feet weren’t touching the ground.

  I blinked in the bright lights of the stage, feeling like I had been caught out in the light of a million searchlights, but then I felt his arm slip around my waist and everything else in the room dropped away.

  Chapter 7

  Madison

  “And what’s your name?” he asked. He was looking out on to the crowd and engaging everyone in the room, but at the same time, I felt as though I was the only thing there that mattered to him. My toes curled in my heels as I inhaled his sweet scent; he was wearing an expensive aftershave, something deep and masculine and musky, and I wanted to bury myself in it and never come out.

  “Madison. Madison Brooks,” I replied softly, looking into his eyes. They were so blue and so bright, even more so than they’d seemed from my seat. The way they glinted at me made something light up deep in my stomach.

  “Madison,” he repeated, and the crowd hollered once more. “Good to meet you, Madison. You ready to help me out?”

  “Yeah,” I bit my lip, a bit embarrassed, and grinned at him, and I noticed that his thumb was tracing along my waist a little. Did he do this with everyone he brought up on stage?

  One of the men he’d been dancing with pulled out a chair from backstage, and placed it down in the spotlight. The light spread and softened as Chad guided me down into the seat, pushing me gently until I was sitting down and staring up at him. He was practically naked in only a pair of underwear, and I could see the shape of his very generous cock even through the fabric. Subway indeed. He leaned in close to my ear, his breath hot on my cheek, and I licked my suddenly dry lips, and tried to keep my cool.

  “Just let me know if anything gets too much for you, okay?” he murmured close to my ear, and I knew those words were just for me, and oddly it felt intimate. As we were about to do something sexual and not take part in a performance on stage.

  “I will,” I promised with a nod, and he drew away and turned back to the crowd, the moment between us dropping away as the music lifted once more.

  “Are you ready?” he yelled out to the crowd.

  They replied in the affirmative so he turned back to me, and straddled me.

  I felt as though my brain had dropped out the back of my head. I gulped as his hard thigh muscles brushed lightly against my body. Then he looked directly into my eyes and I thought I was going to die. Oh, god. This man was something else.

  The whole time that he was using me to dance around and against. At first, I felt a little self-conscious up there on stage, in front of all those people, and being the object of desire for the sexiest man I’d ever met, but then, as I got used to sensation of his hard body gyrating against mine, I forgot all of that and focused entirely on the way he made me feel.

  It was impossible not to.

  The way he touched me, going slow at first with the beat of the song, pushing a strand of hair back from my face, and leaning in close to my neck, his mouth so warm and so close and so tantalizing, I was finding it hard to keep my head straight.

  And then, as the music picked up, he began to really move. He flexed his hips and ground against me, his eyes boring into mine, a slight smile playing at the corner of his sensuous, full lips as though he knew precisely what he was doing to me, and had no intention of letting up. I knew he’d told me that I could stop this whenever I wanted, but no part of me wanted for it to end. No, I wanted more and more.

  The song spanned on, but I could barely hear the music any longer, or the screaming of the crowd. In fact, I couldn’t concentrate on anything else in the room, but the sound of his breath and mine mingling in the air between us. I could feel my pulse picking up, my body reacting to the way that he was moving on top of me, around me, behind me.

  Jesus Christ, I was getting wet!

  Standing behind the chair, he slipped his hands down my waist, and hooking his head over my shoulder. I closed my eyes and wondered how obvious it was that I was getting turned on, but I didn’t care who saw it. Part of what was getting me off was knowing how sexual he was being with me in front of all these people. I wondered how far he would take it. I wondered how far I would let him…

  Because I didn’t want to stop. Ever.

  The song came to an end, with him right up in my face, only a few inches away from me. He was breathing a little heavily and so was I. I could have sworn I saw his eyes flick down to my mouth for a moment like he was thinking about kissing me right there and then. I tilted my head up, letting him know that I wouldn’t have turned it down. He lingered for a moment longer before he seemed to reluctantly pull himself away.

  “How about that?” He raised his hands once more and the sound of the crowd began to filter into my brain once more.

  I blinked. For a second there when it looked like he was about to kiss me I had forgotten I was up on stage. God, the way he had looked at me. The audience cheered and whooped, and I wondered how many of them were sick with jealousy that I was the one up there and not them. I couldn’t see Eleanor’s face but I had a feeling she was going to be pretty fucking pissed that he had chosen me and not her.

  “How about another one?” Chad asked, and there was another wave of screaming agreement from the audience. He turned to me, with a grin on his face, and shrugged as though he couldn’t disappoint his fans. He raised his eyebrows at me, silently asking if this was okay, and I nodded at once. I realized my lips were a little parted, like I had been getting ready for the kiss that had never quite come.

  “Wait for me,” he said, and ducked backstage. He returned with something in his hand, and pulled me to my feet. My legs were still so wobbly that I found myself falling against him for support. Thank heavens he was there to prop me up because otherwise I swear, I would have crumpled to the ground in a heap in front of everyone. His body felt so good, so hard and strong next to mine. Without thinking I tentatively laid a hand on his chest. And I didn’t even feel slutty.

  Chapter 8

  Madison

  He took a seat in the chair, then guided me in close so I was standing between his legs. I bit my lip and looked down at him. Surely, he didn’t expect me to dan
ce for him this time. Or did he? Because I had two left feet and no way was I going to humiliate myself in public.

  Thank God, dramatically, and in one strong motion, he pulled me on to his lap. The audience went crazy. I had to catch my breath as I fell on top of him. My arms slipped around his neck. I couldn’t quite believe that this was happening to me, but I felt his cock pressing into me through the thin fabric of my dress. Suddenly I was filled with a deep craving to slip my fingers beneath his boxers and just take him in my hand and then…

  “You want more?” He was addressing that question to the audience, but it was also a question for me.

  I nodded at once. There was no way I could have said no at that point. He could have suggested that the two of us have full sex up on that stage in front of everyone, and I would have gone for it. I just wanted to feel him, to feel every inch of him, to take as much of him as I could in one go.

  He lifted his hand and revealed that he was holding a can of whipped cream. Needless to say the crowd went crazy. My eyes widened as he handed it to me.

  “You want a taste?” he asked.

  It took me a moment to realize what it was he was suggesting. He closed his fingers around mine and guided the can to his broad chest. As I stared at him dumbfounded, he raised his eyebrows at me expectantly. Finally, it sunk in.

  I took the can and tentatively drew a line of cream down his chest; my eyes were drawn to the rippling muscles there, to the sheer strength of him. I wondered what he could do to me with that kind of power.

  And then, feeling bolder than I’d ever felt in my life, I leaned in and licked the cream off his chest. The crowd was hollering, perhaps imagining themselves in my position, or maybe just entertained by how bold I’d suddenly become.

  Underneath the cream, I could taste him.

  I had never thought about how a man tasted before this, but I could taste him right there, and something about his taste got me really hot all of a sudden. I had been turned-on before, but this was something else, something more.

  I placed my hand on his chest and felt the beat of his heart and realized that it was most probably going that fast for reasons other than the crazy dance routine he’d just performed. I looked up at him, my tongue still trailing over his chest, and widened my eyes at him playfully. His hand came to the back of my head as he looked down at me. If he had guided my head downwards I would have gone with it. No complaints and no problems at all.

  Once I had taken care of that thin line of cream, I went to put another over his stomach, a little lower down, hungry for him now and uninterested in holding back my desires. I bit my lip as I drew the line down, closer to his underwear than before, and I might have been crazy, but I was sure I could see his cock stirring to life beneath the fabric. I wanted to touch him down there so badly, but I also didn’t want to do anything that might get in the way of me being up here. I had no idea what the rules were, but I had a feeling that straight-up getting down on my knees and licking his dick would probably be a little too far.

  The neckline of my dress had inched down a little, and I noticed his eyes straying down to my cleavage. Oh, he could have those babies any time he wanted. I leaned down, and let my tongue trail along that spot below his belly button, that sensitive part that made his chest jerk up suddenly. The crowd was screaming their encouragement, and I loved how in-control I was right then. He had been the one in charge at first, but he hadn’t counted on me being the one to go this far. It had been a long time since I had actually felt this kind of desire and there was no way in hell I was going to pass up the chance to act on it now that I had been given the opportunity.

  He stroked a strand of hair away from my face as I licked and kissed the sweetened cream from his body. I found myself running my hands across his arm, letting him know that I felt it too. But was this all an act? Did he make every woman he was with feel this good, this wanted, this desired? Did his cock stir at any woman or was it only for me?

  Once I was done, he pulled me back on to his lap, shooting a look backstage where I could see a few of the other dancers raising their eyebrows at him expectantly. Reluctantly, Chad got to his feet. He took a deep breath before he turned to the audience once more, like he was forcing himself back into the mindset to perform all over again.

  Women roared their approval as he approached the front of the stage once more, guiding me along with him, his arm still tucked around me tight as though he didn’t want to let me go.

  “Give it up for Madison!” he called out, and there was a huge round of applause.

  I leaned against him, not wanting this to be over. I knew there had to be more to the show that just turning me on, but I didn’t want there to be.

  He leaned down and scooped me up off the ground, making me squeal with surprise. Instinctively, I wound my arms around his neck and clung on tight, for dear life. He made his way off the stage and back down towards my seat. People moved out of the way quickly to let him through.

  I let my head rest on his strong shoulder, inhaling his scent one last time, wanting to commit as much of this to memory as I could. I wondered how obvious I was being, and swiftly decided that I didn’t give a shit. If I was the kind of person who got up on stage at a male strip show, then I was the kind of person who didn’t care what people thought of me when I did.

  He placed me back down in front of my seat, and I was sure that was it. It had just been a seriously good play on his part, a practiced performance. A testament to how good he was at his job. But, to my surprise, he produced a small scrap of paper from somewhere I didn’t want to think about and tucked it into my cleavage. His fingers just brushing across my breasts. It was enough to send shivers up my spine. He leaned in close, one last time, his mouth brushing for the briefest moment against my ear.

  “Call me,” he murmured.

  Chapter 9

  Madison

  With my jaw on the floor, I watch him head back on stage to join the rest of the dancers who had come out to pick up where they’d left off. I pulled the note from my chest and saw a series of numbers on it. Was this real? Was this part of the act? It felt real. He couldn’t fake that kind of chemistry. Could he?

  I turned to Eleanor, and as soon as I saw her face, I knew I was in trouble. Big trouble. She was seething, so much so that I was surprised steam wasn’t pouring out of her ears.

  “Come on,” she grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled me to my feet. “We need to go to the bathroom.”

  I followed her, stumbling along behind her as she strode out of the theatre. I looked up at Chad and saw him watching us. Defiantly, I flashed him another dizzy smile. As soon as Eleanor and I made it into the bathrooms she turned on me at once, face dark.

  “What the fuck was that about?” she snarled, waving her hand in the direction of the stage.

  “What do you mean?” I grinned, the paper still clutched tight in my hands.

  “You behaved like a bitch out there.”

  I gasp. “It was just a bit of fun. He picked me, that’s all.”

  “What kind of friend are you? You know that I came here to get with him and you go and take him for yourself,” she fumed, raising her eyebrows as though that was supposed to mean something to me.

  “I didn’t take him,” I protested. “And I can’t help that he picked me out of the crowd—”

  “You could have sent me up instead,” she interrupted furiously. “You knew I needed this. You didn’t even want to come.”

  I frowned. “I’m sorry, I guess I wasn’t thinking in that moment,” I apologized, even though I really felt I had nothing to apologize for. But I knew Eleanor, and I knew that if I didn’t concede my position to her the rest of the night was going to be a fucking nightmare.

  “Yeah, I bet you weren’t,” she snapped. “Just like you weren’t thinking when you put on that dress.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I ran my hands over my body. I liked the way the dress looked, doubly so now that it had gotten Chad’s attention.


  “You look cheap,” she spat. To my horror, she suddenly plucked the piece of paper from between my fingers.

  “Give it back to me,” I said, as she crumpled the scrap of paper in her hands. I fought to keep the dismay from my face. It’s not that I was expecting to start a relationship with Chad or anything, but I had wanted to at least see, to check if it had been his real number, and if he had actually wanted me.

  “All he wants from you is a one night stand.” She looked me up and down, her voice echoing cruelly through the room. It felt as if it was filling up my head making me feel quite sick. “I mean, look at you. That’s what you’re dressed for, isn’t it?”

  “El,” I protested, using the pet name that she had tried to stop me from calling her a few years before. “Please, come on, it was just a bit of fun—”

  “Yeah, well, I was pretty sure I was the one who was meant to be having the fun.” She cocked her head at me, and then, before I could stop her, she ducked into one of the stalls, dropped the piece of paper into the toilet bowl, and flushed.

  “No, Ellie, why would you do that?” I gasped as I watched my only chance at seeing Chad again spiral away into the toilet bowl.

  “Because this was meant to be about me,” she snapped. She walked to the door. “And I’m not going to forget that. I’m going to find him now. So you just enjoy the rest of your night.”

  She stormed out of the bathroom and left me standing there all alone, staring after her, wondering what in the hell had just happened and how responsible I actually was for it. I had never seen her that angry before in my life, or so I thought. And then it hit me.

  All the times that she had spoken to me like this seemed to rush up and overwhelm me all at once. There was a reason my sister hated her so much. Because this was her game, the way she’d always treated me. I always had to be less-than her, always had to be propping up her pathetic ego. And now, as the sound of the flushing toilet faded away, she had just blown my chances for a bit of fun with a hot guy because she couldn’t handle the fact that he had picked me over her.