Pose (Club Kitten Dancers Book 2) Page 2

  If I’ve learned anything from romantic comedies, it’s that dating your best friend’s husband’s best friend is a bad idea.

  Always.

  It’s always, always, always a bad idea.

  This is the type of situation where James and I fall in love, then the relationship ends awkwardly with him dating another random person I know and me being heartbroken. Or maybe he’ll turn out to secretly have PTSD and I won’t know for like, a year. Or maybe he has a deep, dark secret that will destroy our relationship when I discover it.

  I know getting into a relationship with James would be a horrible idea.

  It just would.

  So why does it sound so damn appealing?

  Somehow, I can’t help letting my mind wander a little bit as I think about what might happen between us. Is James the type of guy who likes to play a little bit? Does he do relationships? Will he take me home and let me suck him off? Would he want to date and get to know the “real” Kasey?

  I quickly shove that thought from my head as soon as it appears. I know I come with baggage no one wants to have to deal with, but that’s fine. He doesn’t need to know about that. Not right now. Not today.

  Besides, James isn’t interested in a relationship and even if he was, I’m not. This is just about tonight. This is just about having a little fun.

  “What about you, James?” I ask. I try to sound sultry, but my voice comes out needy. What the hell? Is this my “horny” voice that’s come out to play? I’m not usually like this with guys. Not like this. Not really. I’m not usually so forward or blunt, but something about James makes me just…want him.

  A lot.

  “What about me?”

  “What do you like in your mouth?”

  “Well,” he leans forward, smiling, flashing me those perfect teeth. “Right now, I think I’d like your left nipple in my mouth, Kasey. Would you like that?”

  I nod slowly, rubbing my thighs together under the table. How the hell am I going to make it through dinner?

  “What about,” I pause, licking my lips. “What about my right nipple?”

  “I’ll pinch that nipple, twist it with my fingers.”

  He says it without hesitation, without even having to think about it. A mental image of James playing with my breasts flashes through my mind. I have to fight not to moan out loud in the restaurant.

  He’s not done yet, though.

  “Then, when you’re about to beg me to stop or keep going, I’ll switch. I’ll suck on your right nipple until it’s long and hard and pointy, and I’ll pinch your left nipple with my fingers. Do you have sensitive nipples, Kasey?”

  “I…I don’t know.” No one’s ever paid that much attention to my nipples before. It’s not that the guys I’ve been with have been bad in bed – they haven’t, not really – but they haven’t rocked my socks, either. They’ve been fine.

  But that’s all they’ve been.

  Maybe they’ve always been in more of a rush than I thought. James and I aren’t even doing anything. Hell, we haven’t even started doing anything, but I’m wetter than I ever have been with boyfriends I’ve had in the past.

  Apparently I have a lot to learn.

  “Mmm, I bet your nipples are very sensitive, Kasey. I bet they’re fucking gorgeous. Do you have sweet pink little nipples, Kasey?” He leans forward, watching my eyes. I would have expected James to stare at my tits while he was talking about them, but he doesn’t. He keeps his gaze firmly planted at my face.

  I like that.

  I like that he makes me feel like a real person, like a valuable person. He doesn’t make me feel dirty or slutty the way he talks to me like this.

  No one has ever talked to me like this.

  Slowly, I nod. Words escape me at this moment. Even if I wanted to speak, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. My mouth is dry and my tongue won’t move and I can’t say anything.

  “I thought as much.” James nods like this is the most normal conversation he’s ever had in his life. Meanwhile, my panties are soaked and I’m worried that if he doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to start rubbing my thighs together beneath the table.

  “So, um, do you date often?” I ask, trying terribly to change the topic, to talk about anything other than my pussy or my nipples or how much I’m thinking about what it would feel like to have James driving his dick into me.

  He just smiles and takes a sip of water, watching me, waiting for me to speak. I know exactly what he’s doing. I was the one who started this, after all. I was the one who pushed him to flirt with me.

  Can’t I be the one to stop it?

  Maybe James has a bit of Dominant in him because he’s playing me and he hasn’t even touched me yet. Already my eyes are dilated and my breasts are swollen and my pussy is aching. Already my panties are soaked and I keep clenching and unclenching my fists, trying to keep my body under control.

  “Having trouble, Kasey?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at me.

  “No, I’m fine. Just wondering if you date a lot, you know, since coming back from overseas and stuff. Oh, look! Food. Our food.” The server appears with a smile and places our food in front of us, then disappears.

  I stare at my plate and lift my fork, but James speaks before I can take a bite.

  “Kasey,” he murmurs, and I look at him.

  “What?” I whisper.

  “You’re gorgeous. You shouldn’t be scared of your sexuality. You’re absolutely beautiful and anyone you chose to share your body with would be lucky to have you.”

  “I…” I should be offended that he’s talking about my body. I should be offended he’s making remarks about my sexuality.

  But somehow…

  Somehow with James it just doesn’t seem that bad. It doesn’t seem like he’s trying to hurt me or wound me. It seems like he’s just trying to communicate the best way he knows how.

  And that way, apparently, is by talking about my body like he wants to eat me up.

  “Go ahead. Eat your supper, doll.” He motions toward my food and begins eating his own. We finish in silence, each caught up in our own thoughts. He pays. Then we go back to his car and get inside.

  We sit in silence for a minute, then James starts the car and drives me back to mine. He opens the door for me and walks me over to my little beat-up Honda. I unlock it and turn back to him.

  Our night is ending sooner than I’d like. As much as I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship, I really liked being around James. He makes me feel like I’m a flower: delicate and sweet. He makes me feel desired and passionate.

  He makes me feel alive, and that’s something I haven’t felt in a very long time.

  “I had a good time,” I whisper.

  “I want to see you again,” James says.

  “Um, okay. Yeah, I’d like that.” I’ve never had someone be so blunt or up front with me about what they want and to be honest, I’m not quite sure what to do about that. Fortunately, I don’t have to do anything at the moment because just then, James kisses me.

  It’s not a sweet kiss.

  It’s not a gentle kiss.

  It’s an I’m-about-to-have-an-orgasm-in-the-parking-lot kiss.

  I grab his waist and pull him closer to me, harder, wanting more, needing more. I just need more. More. James gives me as much as I can take. Then he gives me a little bit more, just a little bit to push me over the edge of reason.

  If I had any doubts about seeing him again, they’re gone now. Completely vanished.

  He stops kissing me and smiles against my mouth.

  “You’re a good kisser, Kasey.”

  “You too.”

  “What’s your phone number?”

  “What?”

  “I want to call you tonight. Is that all right?”

  “Yeah. Do you have your phone?”

  He hands it over and I punch in my number while he nibbles on my ear, then I hand his phone back and he releases me.

  “Tonight,” he says, and I n
od.

  “Tonight.”

  James leaves and I get in my car and close the door.

  What the hell happened to me today?

  Chapter 3

  James

  Kasey is insanely perfect. She’s sweet and cute and adorable and much too good for the likes of a broken airman like me.

  I watch her pull away. She waves as she leaves the parking lot and I sit there for a second like a chump, just thinking about her.

  My only regret is that I didn’t meet her sooner. Why couldn’t I have met her before my deployment? Before I left? Why couldn’t I have met her before things in my life went horribly wrong?

  Then again, maybe it’s better that we didn’t meet before my life changed. Maybe it’s better she didn’t see me during my months of physical therapy.

  Cooper and I were only together overseas for a month when an IED claimed my leg and the lives of our friends. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. They weren’t supposed to die on deployment. They certainly weren’t supposed to die right after we arrived.

  I shake my head, silently trying to shake the memory, and I drive home.

  My apartment is a small studio without a lot of character. It’s basically a complete dump, but it’s better than living in the dorms on base. I’m glad those days are over. It’s nice to have my own space away from base. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy living around my fellow airmen. It’s more to do with the fact that those people knew me before I lost my leg.

  The people in my apartment building knew me after.

  My life, as it is, is basically split into two timelines. There’s James before losing his leg and James after. It might seem like a little thing, losing a limb, but it changes you.

  Not just physically, either.

  I’m still in good physical condition. I don’t let my missing limb keep me from the gym or rigorous training, but hours of lifting don’t change the way I see myself.

  I still view myself as broken.

  Incomplete.

  Damaged.

  When I think of girls like Kasey, I think of how they deserve someone who can give them the world.

  Am I that guy?

  I’m not so sure anymore.

  I park in the large parking lot and slam my door shut louder than I should. On nights like tonight, I wish we had assigned parking. Yeah, I have a handicap card I can hang in the rearview mirror and park close, but I don’t want to. I don’t like announcing my status as damaged goods to the world.

  Plus, even though it’s not really true, I still think there might be other people who need the spot more than me.

  I still think there might be someone else who needs to be close to the building.

  So I park at the back and I make my way to the double doors that lead to the interior hallway.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Berkeley,” I murmur as I pass an older woman at the mailboxes.

  “Why, hello, James. How was your day?”

  “Pretty good, Mrs. Berkeley. My best friend just got married.”

  “Oh, congratulations!” The old woman smiles and claps her hands together, then rubs them back and forth. “And what about you?” She raises a mischievous eyebrow.

  “You know I’m waiting for you, Mrs. Berkeley.”

  “Oh, stop it,” she laughs, waving a hand toward me.

  “One of these days, maybe you’ll think about going out with a younger man,” I wink. Mrs. Berkeley, who is actually widowed, just laughs as I turn to go.

  “The woman you marry will be a lucky one, James. Mark my words.”

  Shaking my head, I head to the elevator and press the button to call it. When I lived in the dorms, I was on the third floor and would sprint up the steps two at a time. I didn’t care about taking an elevator. I didn’t have to worry about parking far away.

  Now, things are different. The elevator comes and I enter and press the button for the fourth floor. Sometimes I still take the stairs here, but not today. I already pushed myself when I parked so far away from the building. Already my legs are feeling sore and my stump is starting to ache.

  I should have just used the fucking placard and parked close, but I care about my pride too much. Only a few people in my building know I’m a disabled vet. Despite the fact that it is the current year, there is still so much social stigma around veterans in general, especially the ones who have been overseas.

  When I first came back, I had a few people say they couldn’t have their kids around me in case I “snapped.” Even my own sister doesn’t bring her kids around anymore. Susie is an amazing mother and before I lost my leg, we were close.

  Now she’s scared.

  She says she has to put the kids first.

  I miss Alyx and Anna. My niece and nephew are the sweetest kids I’ve ever met, but Susie thinks I’m dangerous.

  “You’re a time bomb, James,” she told me. I’d finally gotten out of the hospital and called to see if I could come for a visit.

  A time bomb.

  That’s what she said.

  Her words.

  I hate that’s what I am to her, to other people. So while some vets might be proud of the fact they served, I’m sort of in hiding. I’d rather no one know who I am, where I live, or what I’ve been.

  I’d rather people just leave me alone.

  Except for Kasey.

  Something tells me she’s not afraid of me.

  Something tells me she can save me.

  Chapter 4

  Kasey

  “Hello?” I answer the phone tentatively. I know who it is. I know who it has to be. I just can’t believe he actually called.

  “Miss me, doll?”

  “James,” I whisper. “You really called.”

  “I said I was going to.”

  “I know, it’s just that…well, you know.”

  “What do I know?”

  “That guys don’t really call when they say they’re going to.”

  “Those guys are idiots.”

  “That’s most guys.”

  “Idiots.”

  “I think so, too, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Where did you come from, James?” I can’t help but ask. “You’re so different from other guys.”

  “How so?”

  “You pay attention. You’re sweet. You’re super freaking hot,” I blush even as I admit it. He can’t see my face, but I blush.

  Super hard.

  “Why, Kasey,” I can practically hear him smiling “Did you just admit you have a little bit of a crush on me?”

  “A little bit,” I admit.

  “How much is a little?”

  “Maybe a lot.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mmm,” I answer. I don’t want to tell him this conversation is already more intense than my last three relationships.

  “You know,” James says, and I try to focus on his words and not the sweet fucking sound of his voice. “I don’t actually know you that well.”

  “You could change all that.”

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  And here is where it gets hard. This is why dating is difficult. How do you condense your life into a few simple lines? A few basic ideas? How do you take everything you are and just condense that?

  “I’m in college. English major. Amazing at what I do. I’m a pole dancer and I work at Top Five.”

  “The restaurant?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Waitress?”

  “Yep.”

  “I bet you look sexy in your uniform.”

  “I could say the same thing about you.”

  “Yeah, well, not for too much longer,” he comments, and I realize I’ve said the wrong thing.

  “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” What? What didn’t I mean? That he wouldn’t look sexy? No. I just didn’t mean to make him sad thinking about the fact that his career is basically over before it ever really got started.

  “It’s okay. Sometimes it’s just hard
.”

  “What was it like?” I ask before I can talk myself out of it.

  “It hurt.”

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “You must feel lonely.”

  He hesitates so long I wonder if he’s still there, but James clears his throat and starts talking again.

  “I never knew true loneliness before this. You know, before this happened to me, the worst thing I’d ever experienced was a speeding ticket.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t need your pity.”

  “I don’t pity you. I just think it’s bullshit you’ve had to go through this alone.”

  “You’re upset for me?”

  “Of course I am!” I practically screech. “The universe is so not fucking fair. So not fair.”

  “What about you, Kasey?”

  “What about me?”

  “What are your secrets? What makes you feel lonely? What separates you from other people?”

  “You just got really deep really fast.”

  “And you just avoided my question. Deflection?”

  “Probably.”

  “I shared with you,” he says, almost in a sing-song voice.

  And he did. The least I can do is share back. I owe him that much.

  “You really want to know?”

  “I really want to know.”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “Try me.”

  “My dad left when I was a kid.” He sucks in a breath of air.

  “I’m sorry. That’s rough. How old were you?”

  “Old enough to know better. Old enough to know something was seriously wrong with my parents. Old enough to know I was different from all of my friends.”

  Old enough to know my parents used to fight over me.

  Old enough to be forced to make a choice no kid should ever have to make.

  Old enough to know I’m the reason my father never speaks to me.

  “Kasey, that…”

  I wait for it. This is the part where James will offer me his pity, his sympathy, and pretend he knows what it’s like. This is the part where he’ll tell me it’s not as bad as I remember, that I was just a kid who didn’t understand, that things are different now.