Southern Seduction (15 page)

As her hips continue to rock in sultry movements, she removes her tank top, tossing it across the room. Her bra is next. She removes it with ease and places a hand across her chest as she holds out the removed article. His eyes follow the discarded piece of clothing as it lands unceremoniously on the tile floor. She turns towards him, the curve of her breasts visible to his gaze yet still covered by her arm. Penn is losing his mind at the sight of her. White thong and cowgirl boots. That’s all that remains on her perfect figure. His eyes scan every inch of her as she continues to dance for him, her long hair brushing her back and shoulders as her hips sway seductively.

His mind is lost. He pictures himself running his hands through her silky hair. His lips sucking along her collarbone as his hand pulls her hair back, exposing her delicate frame. His mouth licking every inch of her. Her neck, her jaw, her lips, her tongue. Her perfect tits. Her slim, firm belly. He wants to run his tongue up the length of her lean legs and make his way to the apex of her soft, creamy thighs.

She begins to dance closer to him. She is consumed by the music. Consumed by him. Her mind is no longer fixated on proving a point. She is showing Penn all of the things she is longing to do to him. All of the dirty thoughts that have consumed her mind for the past three years.

She strides around his chair, her fingers brushing along his shoulders, her breasts now visible to his greedy, cerulean eyes. She kneels on the floor in front of him, each of her petite hands planted on his muscular thighs as she swings her head around, her hair brushing across his jeans and spurring them to become even tighter. His balls ache and his cock objects loudly underneath his clothing.

One of her legs slides over his lap as she straddles him, her face nearly touching his. Her hips gyrate above his hardened cock, so close yet not touching. He fights the urge to grab her waist and press himself into her. His body is frantic to slide inside of her.

Her breath hitches as she brushes against him, his arousal evident. And her wet panties push against her clit, lighting nerve endings on fire. Tingles race up her spine as she throws her head back, grinding her hips into him. Her dance is no longer appropriate, her movements crossing so many lines in the world of stripping.

A groan threatens to pass from his lips as he feels the heat of her pussy through the material of his jeans. His hands find their way to her waist, gripping tightly. She is no longer dancing and he is no longer observing. They are both participating in this heady game. Their bodies are giving and taking from each other; lust and want and pure white-hot need controlling their movements.

A shuddering moan spills from her full, soft lips as his fingers brush up her sides, running along her rib cage. They are both lost in the moment, giving in to the sexual attraction that pulses between them.

And then…the music stops.

The song ends and ice-cold realization is poured over both of them. Daniella surprises herself by climbing off his lap and searching around for the clothing she scattered around the club floor. Her heart pounds furiously in her chest as she begins to realize what just happened. Instead of showing him a dance routine, she straddled his lap and grinded herself all over his body.

Cryin’ all night!
she mentally screams, her Southern roots dominating her word choices.

Penn stays rooted in his seat, unable to move due to the uncomfortable throb in his pants. He averts his eyes from watching her bend over and pick up articles of clothing. He can’t stand to have the curve of her ass teasing his brain. Once he regains a semblance of control over where his blood flow is directed, he stands up. His blue eyes find her dressed and sitting on the edge of the stage, nervously biting her bottom lip.
That full, perfect lip
. His focus locks on to it, his mouth desperate to bite it.

His fuck-or-flight response kicks in and he decides that flight would be the best-case scenario in this situation. No way in hell is he going to fuck her in the middle of his club—his strip club. And to his shock and her dismay, the words, “You’re not ready, darlin,’” spill from his lips. Her brow rises in disbelief as Penn strides away towards his office.

Yeah, it might be an asshole move, but right now, it’s the only move he can manage. Otherwise, his traitorous body would have stripped her down and proceeded to fuck her brains out.

He throws himself down in the leather chair behind his office desk and his head thuds against the hard surface with a loud bang. She wanted him. He knows this. Her puckered nipples, flushed skin, and evident moans were proof. She was lost in the moment, and when she threw her head back and ground her pussy against him with hard, deep movements, he lost all control.

How many more dances like that can he take before he actually does something?

Zero.

No way in hell can he handle another striptease from Daniella. He knows with absolute finality that his cock will revolt if he has to sit through another dance like that without being able to do something about it. He needs a new plan. A plan that ensures her tuition is paid for and will put an end to her working at Wild Nights.

Fuck, he wants her.

Everything he felt for her three years ago is still present and stronger than ever.

He refuses to walk away. He had to last time out of desperation. He was in a bad fucking way, but this time, it won’t happen. Things will be different. Things will be better.

He just needs her to get on board with this plan…

Another week goes by, and Daniella still holds on to the anger she’s been harboring for Penn. He left her slack-jawed and shocked to her very core after he told her she wasn’t ready to dance. She knows he was turned on, more than aroused by her body, yet he said she wasn’t ready.

Isn’t that the point of stripteases? To turn men on?

She refuses to let that awkward situation get to her. She’s bound and determined to prove herself to him and will do everything in her power to get on that main stage by the weekend. As she leaves class, she sends him a text message.

Daniella:
I’m ready. When do I get a second chance to “prove myself”?

Penn:
I’m too busy this week. I’ll be out of town. Wait until sometime next week.

Daniella:
I can just do a routine for Grant and he’ll let you know if I’m ready or not.

Penn:
NO. Next week.

She scowls at his immediate, obnoxious refusal.

Daniella:
I’m not a fucking child.

Penn:
Oh believe me, I know this better than anyone.

What in the hell is that supposed to mean?

Daniella:
Then let me fucking dance! I need the money, Penn. I have to pay for my tuition

by next week!

She has already made a decent sum of money from cocktailing, but she still hasn’t made enough to pay her tuition bill. Time is running out, and the only person standing in her way from solving her financial dilemma is Penn Wilder.

Penn:
Daniella, I promise your tuition will get paid. Trust me, okay?

Daniella:
Trust you?!?

Penn:
For Christ’s sake, woman. Calm down. I care about you too much to let a stupid

tuition bill screw up your plans, okay? All I’m asking for is a little trust.

Cares about me too much?
Her brain tries to decipher what he means. Her silly heart tells her that it means he really cares about her, her rational, logical brain telling her that he means it from a purely friendship, big-brother kind of perspective. She chooses to forget about both options and find another way to get her ass on that stage.

Daniella:
Okay.

Penn Wilder might think her response is the end of that discussion, but it’s not.

It’s far from over.

Penn follows his longtime friend and lawyer, Nate Hudson, into the abandoned warehouse just outside of San Antonio. He already has three other locations lined up to begin his future business venture of night club establishments all over the continental U.S. The inheritance he received after his parents passed away left him with enough money to start his business, and the funds he’s made from Wild Nights in Houston has given him the capability to start a less risqué business endeavor under the Wilder name. Opening a strip club was probably not his mother’s idea of doing something amazing with his life, but it has opened up a lot of opportunities.

He’s run a tight ship, and he prides himself on the fact that his strip club is as classy as they come. He’s monitored his girls closely, and the usual scene of drugs, alcohol, and free sex acts in the champagne rooms has never occurred under his watch. All of the staff members at Wild Nights are drug tested on a monthly basis. Some may call this over the top, but Penn sees this as a necessary evil.

His strip club is exclusive and his employees conduct themselves in the utmost professional way. If there is one thing Penn Wilder doesn’t tolerate, it’s drama and bullshit. Fuck up once and consider yourself done. No questions, no excuses, no nothing. There are strict rules that the employees of Wild Nights must adhere to and there are no exceptions. No free passes, no get-out-of-jail-free cards. He expects the best and refuses to settle for less than that. His high expectations and exceptionally perfect record as an entrepreneur have proved to a lot of future business associates that, despite his young age, he is fully capable of running a successful business. And now, he’s more than ready to change his priorities.

Penn checks his watch and sees that it’s half past three. They’ve yet to meet with the property owners to discuss contracts. He doubts he’ll make it back in time to man the club tonight. He grabs his cell and texts Grant.

Penn:
We’re running late here. Can you man the floor tonight?

Grant:
No worries. I got it.

Grant has been by Penn’s side every step of the way. And now, his general manager will soon own the entire club. The deal is already in process, and Penn has no doubts that Wild Nights will run smoothly once Grant officially takes over the reins. Over the next six months, he already has three night clubs opening up. Reno, Tucson, and Santa Fe, plus the very likely addition of San Antonio. Reno will be the next to open, and it will get him one step closer to Vegas, which is his ultimate goal. A night club in Vegas will obtain him the ultimate profit, and once Penn sets his sights on something, he doesn’t stop until he gets it. This includes a certain brunette with the biggest brown eyes he’s ever seen, but his brain refuses to head towards that very confusing territory at the moment.

Nate glances over at Penn, his brow furrowed as he takes in the disheveled appearance of the abandoned warehouse just outside of San Antonio city limits. “What do you think? Definitely needs work,” he says as he runs his fingers across the rusted over walls inside the enormous space.

Nate Hudson has been with Penn since the beginning. Since the very first signature on the very first contract that eventually turned into his first establishment. He met Nate when he transferred to USC three years ago. And the man took him under his wing, showed him the ropes, and they’ve been tight ever since.

Penn’s eyes take in the building. Yeah, it’s a shithole right now, but his mind is already visualizing the future. He can picture the sleek bars lining the ends of the space and a large dance floor encompassing the center of the room. It’ll be a challenge, but he can’t pass up this perfect opportunity. With a little blood, sweat, and tears, this warehouse will be home to a sleek, classy night club under the Wilder name.

“This is it,” Penn replies with certainty.

Nate runs a lone hand across his buzzed head. “You sure?”

Penn nods with one resolute motion.

Nate shrugs his shoulder and lets out a chuckle. “All right, I’ll go grab the owners and see what kind of deal we can work out.”

Perfect.

Another location to add to his pocket, another establishment that will undoubtedly be successful, and Penn couldn’t be happier.

He never saw himself as a night club entrepreneur per se. As a kid, he figured he’d follow his father’s wishes of becoming a successful lawyer or doctor, but law school and med school weren’t his thing. Actually, college in general wasn’t his thing. Penn always preferred nights out clubbing over nights in studying. He’s always had the certain charm and swagger that make people take notice. And this is what led him into the entertainment industry. It’s the perfect match for his personality. And now he’s going to have nearly five night clubs across the United States.
Amazing.