She had a vague idea of what to do. She’d been in a few strip clubs. When a late gig finished, they were some of the last places you could get a drink. But she’d only ever gotten one lap dance. A male DJ had handed her two hundred bucks and told her to have fun. Curious—and wasted—she’d taken a pink-haired girl to the private rooms and wound up giggling all over her, totally unsure of what to do with her hands. She got the appeal though, there was something hot about getting so close to what you couldn’t have. Torturing yourself with it.

She strode toward Sloan, running a tongue over her lower lip. His pupils dilated, his hands twitching as though he longed to touch her.

That’s it, you pig. Get hard.

She stood in front of him, ‘Core’ blaring through her speakers.

“You can touch my back, stomach, and thighs,” she recited from memory. “Everything else is extra.”

Willow’s smile was mean. “Sure. Dance for me.”

Swaying her hips to the beat, she turned and sat backward in his lap. His cock felt like someone had thrown a tea towel over an iron bar and she recoiled, the sensation surprisingly offensive.

He chuckled. “Feel something you like?”

She ignored him, grinding softly into his hips to the music. He sat forward, running his hands down her thighs with practised delicacy. She gritted her teeth. He’d done this before. Of course, he’d done this before. She’d done this before. But she hated the idea of someone else turning him on. Just like she hated watching his Instagram stories on nights when their schedules clashed. Wondering if he was making other girls laugh, making them feel beautiful, talented, safe…

Focus.

She rolled her hips, pressing back into his cock, and he gave a low hiss. “That’s it.”

He leaned forward, running his nose along her back and inhaling deeply. Eden shuddered as good-bad goosebumps ran down her skin.

“You think I’m gross, huh?”

Eden chewed her lip. No, she didn’t. Not in a million years, but she knew this was part of his fantasy, humiliating himself. Being that guy. Instead of responding, she leant forward, shaking her ass in his lap. She’d practised the move in the mirror, and she was pretty good at it. Pain exploded on her ass. She turned, genuinely shocked. “You spanked me!”

Sloan looked as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “Not much.”

“What the hell!”

“Sorry. Turn back around. I’ll throw in another hundred.”

Eden hesitated. Six hundred was almost a month’s rent. “Don’t do it again.”

“Okay, Jenna.”

But when she turned to keep dancing, he gripped her hips, grinding up against her. She let him work for a moment before pressing a hand between their bodies, separating them. “Too much.”

“Come on,” he panted. “Keep going.”

“That wasn’t the deal.”