First Time for Everything

My eyes popped open when I caught his scent again, and I nearly took a step back. The guy was very close to invading my five feet of personal space. There were cameras in the room, and I knew that if the man tried anything security would break the door down and have me out before I could scream for help. But I didn't feel like I was in danger.

"A lap dance," I supplied, unconsciously wetting my lips. "You paid for a lap dance."

A smile curled the sides of his lips. "It was free."

"Regardless, lights on or off?"

His eyes widened slightly. "You are really going to do this?"

"I really am."

"Is talking to me so bad that you would take off your clothes instead?"

Well, when he put it that way . . . "One," I began, ticking off my fingers, "I will not be taking off my clothes. And two, I don't know you. So yeah, I'd rather grind on your lap than tell you my hopes and dreams."

Tension ferried between us, thickening with the seconds. Finally, he nodded curtly, spun on his heel, and went to sit back on the couch. "You may choose to have the lights on or off."

The song changed to Angel of the Small Death and the Codeine Scene—one of Mikey's new favorites. Hozier's beginning "Hmm, m-hmm, hmm" floated around the room like the revving of an engine. Breathing out a sigh that wasn't quite relief and held a heavy tinge of disappointment, I reached behind me and flipped the light switch off.




CHAPTER FIVE

Feisty. That was the only word Deok-su could use to describe the woman in front of him. Feisty and beautiful.

He wasn't sure what attracted him to her, or why. When the owner had offered him a free lap dance, Mercy had been the only name to slip off his tongue. Black women never attracted him, and doubly so with the attitude she seemed to dole out in spades. She was lovely, there was no question about that, but it was more than just looks.

Perhaps Lemair spiked my drink with something. Deok-su came to this conclusion as the room was flooded in darkness and a deep voiced musician floated like perfume through the air. He watched the waitress-turned-temporary stripper breathe in deeply before walking over to him again. This time though, the trepidation he'd felt from her was gone. She walked like a woman on a mission, fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides, back straight, eyes wide and focused.

"Mercy," he whispered, unsure if she heard it or not. And even if she did, he doubted she'd take notice. It was obviously a stage name, and Deok-su found himself wondering what her real name was.

The woman got close to him and leaned down to plant a hand on either side of his hips. Her breath tickled his ear. "Have you ever had a lap dance?"

Not like this. Closing his eyes, he leaned back into the cracked and stained booth. Every hair he had was on edge, attuned to the slightest movement from the woman above him. Her heat surrounded him, peppermint scent cooling him slightly. "No."

She pulled back and he felt the space on either side of him shift. "This'll be a new experience for both of us then," she murmured, placing her hands on his knees and spreading his legs.

Would she go down on him? No, no, that wasn't part of the lap dance. But damn, he wished it was. When he opened his eyes again, her hands were to the ceiling, hips swaying to the musician's voice and guitar, eyes trained on his face. Light caught her corset every so often, bouncing off and highlighting sections of dark skin. Breasts shaking, she tilted her head back, spread her legs, and moved to the quickening beat.

The sound changed, slowed, and she turned, bent, and gripped her calves. Her ass was perfect, round and high, just begging to be slapped hard. Fuck, he wanted to smack her ass while he pounded into her from behind, heard her gasp, moan, scream as she came tight and wet and perfect around him.

Deok-su's hands clenched in his lap, short nails digging into his palm. Women didn't affect him like this, especially not half-clothed ones. There was no mystery to her body, no secrets he could find and explore. She dipped low, shoulders brushing his knees and tilted her head back to look at him. There was a look of confusion and lust on her face as she tilted her head back, like she couldn't believe what she was doing while at the same time she wanted to do more.

Mercy shook her head and her curls brushed the seam of his pants, making his dick jerk painfully. And that mouth—fuck that mouth. Thick, wet lips, high cheeks that would hollow as she blew him and then swallowed his cum. He knew she would, knew her hair would brush his thighs and he'd wrap it around his fingers and tug while she drank.

"Shibal," Deok-su bit off violently.

"Say something?" Mercy purred, using his legs as leverage as she climbed back to her feet.

"Nothing." That I want to repeat.

Deok-su watched her shrug. She stepped back, brought her shoulders to his chest and her ass to his crotch. Then she started to grind. Hard. And fuck if he didn't almost lose his mind.

"You need to stop."

She didn't. "If you need to come, go ahead. Most guys do anyway."

The way she said it, so flippantly, made him angry. Setting a hand on her waist, he stilled her movements. Decorum said he shouldn't touch her, that he didn't have the right. In every other case he would agree. Deok-su had never touched a woman like that, not even a stripper, but he couldn't help Mercy.

She didn't scream or move away. No, she froze, half-standing, half-sitting on his lap, hair in his face. Against himself, Deok-su reached up his other hand and pushed her hair away from her shoulder. She shivered at the contact.

What am I doing? he wondered as he brushed his fingertips along her neck and shoulder. Something stupid, he decided, placing a gentle finger under her chin and turning her head to face him. She stared back at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. Her chest rose and fell heavily, and he felt his do the same.

"What are you doing?" She addressed the question to his lips.

"I am not sure." He leaned in close until only a few centimeters separated them. "You should push me away."

"I know." She leaned closer.

He followed. "Now."

Her lips lifted at the corners. "Later." And then she kissed him. Peppermint fire and feisty as hell.

There was a brief moment of panic, hesitation, when all the reasons he shouldn't have sex with a stripper in an American club came roaring back to him. Getting caught. Getting a disease. Unwanted pregnancy.

But then she parted those lips—fuck, those lips—and he didn't care about anything. Nothing. Except his fingers in her hair, his tongue in her mouth, and his dick in her pussy. He needed more.

His hand firmed on her hip, yanking her fully onto his lap so the cleft of her ass hugged his erection. Mercy gasped and he deepened the kiss, moved the hand at her chin around to her cheek, splaying his fingers so he covered part of her neck and part of her face.

She wasn't sweet. The peppermint rolling around his tongue bit, like he'd eaten a candy cane then chased it with a cool glass of water. Deok-su pulled back and looked down at Mercy. There couldn't be any hesitation in her gaze, any fear or reluctance.

Wide brown eyes darkened to nearly black as she regarded him. She blinked a few times, thick lashes coated with mascara leaving smudges against her cheeks. Flushed, smeared, she looked wild and untamed.

"Do you want this?" he asked, tightening the fingers at her hip.

She closed her eyes and turned her head back around, coating his face and mouth in curls that smelled like roses and almonds. "I-I'm not sure."

"I will not take you against your will."

"No one's crying foul play here."

Ever so gently she ground herself on him, and he just about lost his mind. "This does not end with kissing," Deok-su rumbled, not sure if the words were completely in English. "I will fuck you."

That made her shiver. For a second he wondered if she'd drawback, say that her night would end with kissing, and then leave him with his balls strung up and his dick laying flat against his stomach.

But she didn't. She reached for his hand at her hip, entwined their fingers, and dragged their joined hands across her abdomen. Spreading her thighs, he felt the lace of her barely-there panties tickle the pads of his fingertips. "I think," she said, moving their hands lower until he felt the smoothed, waxed heat of her pussy, "that I'll be fucking you just as hard."

His middle finger speared her cunt on the last word. She gasped and arched into his hand, her neck falling onto his shoulder. Her palm began to sweat over the back of his hand as she pushed his fingers further inside her.

He'd never had a woman use his hand to masturbate. And fuck if it didn't feel great. She was all wet, clenching muscles and sharp gasps. For a few minutes he let her have his hand, let her use it any way she wanted as he watched her expressions. Watched her brows furrow in concentration, her teeth bite down on her bottom lip until it turned white and her cheeks flush scarlet.

"I'm close," she gasped, arching, shaking, sucking him deeper until his finger fucking was audible in the room.

Deok-su was close to the end of his rope. His hand was drenched, his dick was so hard, and he was sweating badly. "Come."

She let out a shaky laugh as she withdrew his middle finger, grabbed his index finger, and pushed them both together, high and fast, inside herself. "Don't have to tell me. Already there."

Arching hard, she dug the heel of her palm into the back of his hand, groaned and shook. The shaking was the worst, like a vibrator on his dick. Mercy didn't just come, she fucking exploded. Nails dug, teeth clattered, and a sound between a groan and a scream leaked from her lips.

"That," she panted, "was great. Thanks."

Deok-su could care less about her appreciation, all he wanted was her pussy clenching his dick hard. His fingers were needy, bruising against her skin as he tried to touch all of her at once. Laughing softly, she pushed away from him and climbed to shaky legs.

"Bend over." First time he fucked her he wanted it from behind, to bite her shoulder while he thrust in. The woman made him mad, completely mindless.

"No."

Blinking slowly, he watched Mercy finger comb her hair and adjust her corset so it sat more comfortably on her hips. "No?" he said slowly.

"That's what I said." Her voice was too clear, too steady. She didn't look like she'd just come on his fingers. No, she was completely composed while he felt like a fourteen year-old about to climax for the first time.

"This was great," she continued, turning to face him, "but I still have a job to do."

She didn't look half as good as she sounded. Bottom lip quivering, brows drawn low, she looked uncertain, like she'd never done this before and was unsure how to act. But in an instant her whole demeanor changed. Whatever insecurities she'd been dealing with evaporated and a coy smile lifted the corners of her lips. Leaning down, she kissed him softly on the cheek, nails scraping his forming five o'clock shadow. "I—I needed this."

She was out the door before he could beg her to stay.

CHAPTER SIX

She said no. For three days and a handful of hours, Deok-su fixated on Mercy, the stripper who said no. The woman who said no. The creature that came on his hands then got up and walked out.

He'd gone back to the club twice, but there'd been no sign of her. The owner had informed him that Mercy had the weekend and Monday off. But that didn't work for Deok-su because he left Monday night. The contracts had been signed, hands shook, champagne poured. There was no reason for him to stay in America any longer. As it happened, there was more reason to get out. His company needed him back in Korea.

He had four hours. Four hours left in America with no information on the stripper Mercy and the worst case of blue balls. At first, he'd thought he just wanted sex. But after a very sour attempt with a call girl Lemair had on speed dial, Deok-su knew that wasn't it. Whatever his affliction, only Mercy had the cure.

"Welcome back," one of the bouncers said as Deok-su flashed his ID and strode through the entrance of the Hickery Dickery Cock.

Please be here, he thought, scanning the club for any sign of long black legs and curly hair. He was gritting his teeth and mentally cursing, when someone thumped his back. "Like a dog with a bone."

Of course. "Lemair." Deok-su slowly turned to face the man. "What a surprise."

"Not really." He shrugged. "Billy told me you'd been coming here every night looking for—What was she going by? Mercy?"

"You know her real name?"

Lemair laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Course I do. I come here enough."

Deok-su remained quiet, waiting for the name to tell him her name, but Lemair just smiled wide. "Now, come on. Don't look like that. If you want to know her name, just go over there and ask her. She's waitin' for ya."

Looking to where Lemair nodded, he saw the top of a curly head sticking up from a booth. That was her. He'd know the hair anywhere. It'd been in his face while he'd fingerfucked her and was branded onto the back of his eyelids. Turning his head back to Lemair, he watched as the man walked away, waving over his shoulder. Deok-su's smiled, grudgingly grateful. Americans.

"Hey," the owner said, stepping in front of Deok-su's path. "I don't know why you're interested in her, but you do anything to hurt her and you won't live to regret it."

He took the threat at face value. "I understand."

Steps separated them, but Deok-su thought it was an ocean. Three days and three painful nights. Jerking off only made it worse. His dick was hard and chafed, and he was pretty sure there'd be calluses on his hands in a week if he didn't get inside her. But it wasn't just sex. It was her mouth, the way she talked. That sass, that ass, that smile.

He slid into the booth across from her, the leather squeaking with the movement and drawing the eyes of the few patrons in the club at five in the afternoon. Taking a deep breath, he tried to compose himself before he looked at her. That failed.

Christ! She looked better now than she had in the nipple tassles, corset, and panties. No makeup, a worn t-shirt with her hair in a ponytail. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, and she had a red nose and flushed cheeks. Had she been as miserable as he'd been? Cried herself to sleep? Tried to get him out of her mind? Good. That'd make getting into her bed easier.

Mercy opened her lips, but instead of the plea to lay her on the table and screw her brains out he expected, she sneezed. All over him.

"Oh my God!" Her voice was nasally as she reached for the napkin beside him and tried to wipe her snot off his face. "I'm so sorry. I have a cold and it's just gotten worse. I wasn't even supposed to come today, but Billy asked me to."

"It's fine," he said taking the napkin from her and finishing the job. The illusion he had about tears and begging burst like a bubble. "Are you alright?"

A small smile flitted at the corners of her lips as she wiped her nose with a balled up tissue. "You asked me that same question when we first met."

"And as I remember it, you never answered."

"Nope."

"Are you going to answer now?"

She frowned and wiggled on the seat, pulling out her phone. It vibrated in her hand, and she frowned as she looked down at it. "Is there a reason you wanted to talk to me?" she asked, glancing up quickly.

He leaned closer, waiting until she met his gaze and held it. "Do you remember what else I said that night? It would not end with kissing."

Something passed through her eyes and for a second he thought she was going to slap him and leave. But Mercy didn't. She placed her phone on the table, leaned forward, grabbed his lapels, and kissed him. Quick and brutal, a tease from the queen of teasing.

"It didn't," she murmured, drawing back.

His hand snaked around her head, fingers fisting in her hair, holding her in place. "But it did not end the way you—What is the word? . . . promised." If Deok-su had to beg her he would. He'd feel the shame tomorrow along with a healthy dose of satisfaction.

Mercy opened her mouth, but her phone rang again and her eyes strayed away from his to the Caller ID. "I have to get that."

He didn't let go of her. "By all means."

With a sardonic smile she answered the phone, "Hey, Mom. Little busy right now."

Mercy's phone was loud enough for him to hear her mother's response. "Lauren! I've been trying to reach you for days. Where have you been?"

So her name is Lauren? It suited her.

"I've been sick. What's up?"

There was a huff before the woman answered, "You should have told me. I'm only your mother."

A smile touched her lips. "Sorry, Mom. Next time I'm sick, I'll call you."

"Hopefully there won't be a next time." There was a brief pause. "Charlene and Durrell are going to be in New York."

White lines appeared around Lauren's mouth and her fingers tightened around her phone. "Don't. Care."

"For God's sakes, Lauren, this is family."

"Was family. They're not mine anymore. And ya know what, Mom? I'm really sick of having this conversation."

"I gave them your address," her mother responded flatly. "They're only in New York for a few—"

"Khlr, khlr, khlr, breaking up, khlr, can't—" Click. She hung up.

Deok-su watched Lauren close her eyes and breathe out a long suffering breath. Her lashes were still dark, but they didn't leave smudges against her cheek. And for some reason those lashes gave him an idea, a completely reckless one that was half formed by his dick.

"Lauren?" She opened her eyes at the mention of her name. "Whoever is coming, you do not want to see them."

"No. I—I don't."

"I have a proposition for you."

She raised a brow and smirked. "Sex?"

"In time. But you are an event planner. I am in need of your services."

"Really? How . . . fortunate."

"I want you to come to Korea with me and plan an event for our newest merger."

"Well, considering I've never been to Korea and I'm certain there are other event planners more qualified there, I'm going to have to ask why?"

He didn't miss a beat. "Because I want to fuck you."

"At least you're honest."

"But also," he murmured drawing her closer, "because I think you can do it."

"After all, you've seen me work. Oh wait, you haven't. You've just seen me strip. And I was hoping that walking out would have given you a clear indication that I won't sell myself for money."

He tightened his hold on her hair. "I will draft a contract. You will be protected. And if, along the way, we end up in bed I will be very happy. I'm not buying you, Lauren. I am giving you an option and myself a better shot."

There was so much conflict, so much worry and uncertainty on her face that he could practically anticipate her answer. But beyond that, reflected in her eyes he saw a woman who liked the challenge and was ready for it. There was steel in her bones, iron in her words, and that made him falter. Honestly, he wasn't sure what she'd say and that both excited and terrified him.

Lauren, or Mercy, or whatever her name was, was a mystery, one he wanted to thoroughly explore and enjoy.

"You're serious," she whispered softly after a long moment.

God she looks good. Deok-su leaned forward and kissed her, much more slowly than she'd done with him. He let his lips linger, sampling her. The peppermint taste was still there under the sugary-sweet bite of cough medicine. She was too hot and tasted like chemicals, but perfection had never been his aim. Messiness made life interesting, uncertainty made the days worth trudging through, and sex with her—Deok-su was betting that sex with Lauren would be worth all the problems in the world.