Erotic Encounters Read online

To his dismay, the control he prided himself on had slipped away. When he had been hired for a private performance at a birthday party, it had never occurred to him that Shasta Brooks would be the recipient of his attentions. She looked adorable in her faded jeans, T-shirt and bare feet, so different from the properly tailored business clothes she wore at work. And the more he watched her—the excitement covering her face, her nipples puckered against her T-shirt, the soft fabric caressing her full breasts—the more turned on he became.

  If he didn’t wrap up his performance in the next minute or two, he ran the risk of his cock wiggling its way out of his thong and leaping toward her. And the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass Shasta. He forced his gaze away from her, taking a minute to glance around the room. Performing had never turned him on the way he was at that moment.

  He couldn’t afford the luxury of becoming personally involved with someone, not until he had his life straightened out so that it was his own again. Now that she knew, what did she think about his night job? Was she disappointed? Or perhaps disapproving? For some inexplicable reason, her opinion mattered to him. He cleared the disturbing thoughts from his mind and concentrated on finishing his performance.

  Fifteen minutes after his arrival, his clothing lay strewn about the floor, and he wore only a thong cradling his cock in supple black leather.

  Trudy was the first of the guests to head toward the front door. She made an exaggerated show of fanning herself. “Damn…it’s very hot in here. I’ve got to hurry home. My husband is in for the thrill of his life. And if I can’t wake him, my vibrator may end up blowing a circuit!”

  The others voiced their agreement and quickly followed, each wishing Shasta a happy birthday before hurrying out the front door. Only Gillian remained behind. As Shasta carried empty champagne glasses to the kitchen, Dane picked up the bits and pieces of his costume and shoved them into a small duffle bag. He left the dark wig and his mask in place. Pulling out a pair of sweat pants, he slipped them on as he prepared to leave.

  “A very impressive performance.” Gillian held out a check toward him as she blatantly stared at his crotch. “Very impressive, indeed.” She tried to slip the check inside the waist band of his sweat pants, but he deftly avoided her attempt and took it from her hand.

  “Thank you. It was my pleasure.” He shoved the check into his bag. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll say good-bye to the birthday girl.” He flashed his sexy smile, gave Gillian a wink, then walked into the kitchen.

  Dane shot a quick glance behind him to make sure Gillian stayed in the living room rather than following him. Then he turned his attention to Shasta. “Well…this is a bit awkward.” He kept his voice low so only she could hear him. “The look on your face when I arrived made it obvious my wig and mask didn’t keep you from recognizing me.” He nervously glanced at the floor, then regained eye contact with her. “Thank you for not exposing my true identity.”

  “I was as surprised to see you as you obviously were to see me.” An amused chuckle escaped her throat. “And as far as exposing you…well, you did a marvelous job of that yourself. And all this time you’ve led me to believe you’re a computer consultant. I must say,” she blatantly looked him up and down, “you don’t look anything like a stereotypical computer geek.”

  “It’s my day job. You know that. The bank is one of my clients. I’m good with computers and have a degree in computer science. It’s always come easy for me. This,” he gestured toward the mask and wig, “is my night job.”

  “Obviously, Gillian didn’t tell you the birthday girl’s name.”

  Dane shot another quick glance in Gillian’s direction to make sure she was still occupied in the living room. “Would it be okay if I came back after your friend leaves? I want to explain this to you. I don’t want you to misunderstand.”

  “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  “I may not owe you an explanation, but I’d like to give you one. Please?” He was thankful for the mask that hid the uneasiness he felt.

  “How about in an hour?”

  A feeling of relief settled inside him. “Perfect. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  Shasta walked him across the living room. When they reached the door, the Macho Marauder took her hand in his, brought it to his lips and gave a courtly bow. “Happy birthday, lovely lady.” Then he left.

  A quick side glance picked up the curious look on Gillian’s face, but Shasta chose to ignore it. She had far more interesting things on her mind at the moment. Her skin tingled where his lips had touched the back of her hand.

  Flopping onto the couch, she let out a long, low whistle. “That is the most gorgeous hunk of man I’ve ever seen.”

  Gillian’s soft chuckle quickly turned into a wickedly sexy laugh. “Jeez, that’s got to be the biggest understatement of the century.” She licked her lips as she picked up the jar of chocolate body paint. “Wouldn’t you love to impale yourself on that cock after licking off this yummy chocolate? Hot sex and tasty chocolate…what a perfect combination. Talk about a fuck to die for.” She emitted an exaggerated sigh and set the jar on the table. “Yep, I could go to my grave a happy woman.”

  Gillian visibly composed herself as she glanced around the living room at the party aftermath. “I’ll help you clean this mess, then I guess I’ll make the trek home to my empty apartment. Maybe I’ll plug in Mr. Vibrator and see if he can satisfy this twitch the Macho Marauder created.”

  Shasta laughed as she gave her friend a hug. “You and every other woman who was here tonight. Thanks for the surprise party. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had. Don’t worry about this mess. I’ll tackle it in the morning.” She ran her gaze over the array of gifts on the table. “As soon as I get rid of you, I might just try out some of my new toys.”

  Gillian’s laugh joined Shasta’s. “Personally, I’d much rather try out the Macho Marauder.”

  “Well, one has to make do with what one has.” Shasta glanced at the clock. And in forty-five minutes I’ll have the Macho Marauder all to myself. Happy Birthday to me!

  As soon as the door clicked shut behind Gillian, a wave of anxiety washed over Shasta. She looked around the living room at the party remains. Suddenly, the full impact of her agreement to let Dane return hit her in force. Fantasizing about sizzling sex with him was one thing, but reality quite another. What had she done? Had it been the champagne talking?

  As long as the situation wasn’t real, she had easily entertained a myriad of erotic thoughts about Dane Wingate. But did she have the nerve to act on her fantasy when faced with it in the flesh? And would her desire for more than a quick roll in the hay with this incredibly sexy man lead her to expect more from him than a one night stand?

  The earlier buzz from the champagne had worn off. Maybe another glass would prop up her dwindling courage and slow down her rapidly growing anxiety. She shook her head at the surprising turn of events. Dane Wingate…a male stripper. Never in her wildest imagination would she have guessed that one.

  And judging by the way her friends had behaved, he could have had his pick of any of them, even the married ones. That was probably the way things were for him every night when he performed at the male strip club. He obviously had women constantly throwing themselves at him, providing him with all the sex he could ever want. So why did he ask to return after everyone had gone? He said he wanted to explain something, but why would he feel he needed to? And why specifically to her?

  That thought continued to nag at her consciousness. Was it nothing more than a ploy to add her to his list of conquests? One more notch on his bedpost? She experienced a moment of sadness. Could her dream man possibly be that shallow and self-absorbed?

  A slight frown wrinkled her forehead as another thought made itself known. If that was the case, why hadn’t he ever asked her out? She had openly flirted with him just as much as he had flirted with her. Surely he must have known she would accept his invitation to dinner. Definitely a puzzling situation.
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  She poured herself a glass of champagne, hoping it would help dull her disappointment at the thought of him considering her nothing more than a quick fuck for the night—do a sexy strip, get her juices flowing, then cash in on his investment of time and energy. Was that standard procedure for him whenever he performed at private birthday parties? One of the fringe benefits? Bang the birthday girl before calling it a night?

  She drank deeply from the glass. It might not dull her disappointment, but it certainly made her feel fuzzy all over…warm and fuzzy. Or was the heat the result of the knowledge that Dane Wingate would soon be back in her living room? Just the two of them all alone.

  Shasta picked up the book of erotic photographs and leafed through the pages as she finished the glass of champagne. She squirmed uncomfortably in the chair as her mind substituted the image of his face and nearly naked body for each of the men pictured in the book. Her pussy throbbed with need. Her bare nipples puckered against the soft fabric of her T-shirt, creating a sensual feel that added to her growing arousal.

  In a moment of champagne fueled impulsiveness, she pulled up the front of her T-shirt, fastened the clip-on nipple rings, then pulled her shirt down again. She cupped the underside of her breasts through the fabric and jiggled them, causing the nipple rings to pluck at the tautly puckered buds. She couldn’t decide if the odd sensation excited her senses or merely pinched.

  She grabbed the opened bottle of champagne and emptied the remaining couple of swallows into her glass. As she brought the glass to her lips, the doorbell rang. Her heart skipped a beat before pounding with a strange combination of excitement, anticipation…and trepidation. The nipple rings teased her senses while stimulating her awareness of the tantalizing sensation.

  One unsteady step toward the door brought her to a quick halt when the full impact of the champagne hit her. Holy shit! I’m swacked. I can’t let him know. She wrinkled her forehead into a frown. Think sober. Think sober.

  Sucking in several deep breaths, she held each one for a moment before exhaling. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time, she carefully made her way across the living room. She paused at the door long enough to take another deep breath before opening it.

  Shasta didn’t know if she felt relief or disappointment when she saw him fully dressed in jeans and a pullover shirt. The long black wig and the mask were gone, the bare chest covered. She reached out a slightly trembling hand and touched the front of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest beneath the fabric. She didn’t know what to say but couldn’t stop the nervous giggle. Then the words just seemed to slip out on their own. “You didn’t need to get dressed on my account.”

  The dangerously sexy smile she had come to appreciate showed a row of perfect white teeth. “To tell you truthfully, all that stuff I wear when performing is uncomfortable—especially that damn wig.”

  “Then why do you wear it?” She motioned him inside, then shut the door.

  His expression became serious. “As I said, I want to explain. I don’t want you to harbor any wrong assumptions about what’s going on or what I’m all about. I’m basically a straight forward simple down-to-earth type of guy, in spite of what you’ve discovered tonight.”

  The sound of her spontaneous laughter filled the room. “Simple down-to-earth type of guy is not exactly the description I’d use for the Macho Marauder—a man whose job is to take his clothes off as entertainment for a room full of screaming horny women.”

  Oh, no. Did I really say horny? I’ve got to get my mouth under control. No more champagne for me. Bad birthday girl. Bad birthday girl.

  He took her hand and led her to the couch. There was no mistaking the surge of desire that shot through her the moment she felt his touch. Even in her slightly impaired condition, she knew it was caused by more than the champagne.

  “That’s what I wanted to explain.” Dane sat next to her. He had never been in such close proximity to her for this long. She had a natural beauty that gnawed at his vulnerability.

  He brushed his fingertips across a cheek that felt as creamy smooth as it looked. The sensation of her skin against his sent a wave of desire crashing through him.

  Surrender To Passion…the fragrance still clung to her skin, tickling his senses, enticing him with forbidden thoughts. He wanted to give her his undivided personal attention again and again and again until the wee hours of the morning when they were both too exhausted to move, then do it all over again.

  He had long ago learned to turn his mind off when he did the Macho Marauder strip act. And as far as putting his nearly naked body on display…well, it was just skin. No big deal. Self-consciousness about body image was not a hang-up for him. Everyone had a body, with each person’s being different and unique unto itself.

  But performing for Shasta. That had been very personal compared to the other private performances he had been hired to do. Every time he saw her, he wanted to have her naked in his bed. Just watching her excited him. Her eyes glowed with a hidden desire as her breathing quickened. Her tongue occasionally darted out, licking her slightly parted lips.

  “The wig…the mask…by making them part of my act, I get to remain anonymous. I don’t want my extra-curricular activity intruding into my normal business routine. I don’t want any of my clients recognizing me at the club. I can go about my daily business without concerns of whether my nighttime alter ego will have a negative impact on my career.”

  “Then why do you do it?” She furrowed her brow in momentary confusion. “Does having a secret kinky side spice up your life?”

  Dane’s muscles tensed. He resisted the initial reaction to pull back from the sting of her words. Did he really come across that way? As some ego driven jerk?

  Shasta reached out and gently touched his arm. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I have no business making judgments about your personal life. It’s just that it was such a shock. It’s not the type of thing I would have associated with a computer consultant.”

  She withdrew her touch from his arm, then rubbed her fingers against her temples, drew in a deep breath and held it a moment. “I think I had one too many glasses of birthday champagne.”

  Settling his fingers beneath her chin, he lifted until they had eye contact. He delved into the depths of her eyes as he studied her. He offered a gentle smile, hoping to convey that he wasn’t unhappy or insulted.

  “I have a feeling my explanation is going to be wasted on you tonight.” He leaned his face close to hers and placed a tender kiss on her forehead, then emitted a sigh of resignation that contained a touch of disappointment. “Perhaps it would be better if I left so you could get some sleep.”

  She shook her head. “Uh…no. I’m fine…really. I don’t usually drink this much and especially not champagne. It was all the birthday festivities…uh…I’ll make some coffee.”

  “I think some fresh air might be a better idea.” Dane stood up and held out his hand toward her. “Come on,” he extended his most sincere smile, “we’ll take a walk around the block. Then if you still want some coffee, I’ll make it.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hand in his. “We can take that walk if you’d like, but please don’t feel you need to sober me up. I’m fine.” She flashed a warm smile. “Honest.”

  Dane clasped her hand in his, resulting in a hard jolt of lust. Even though he had learned to disassociate his physical desires from his Macho Marauder performances, he still didn’t have a whole lot of control over the aftereffects that told him he was every bit as horny as the women who watched him and tried to pull at his clothes while he performed.

  Mindless sex with strangers was not his style. But Shasta Brooks represented far more than the concept of relief for an aching cock, a fast fuck or a one night stand. He tried to shove away the need pulling at him. He was very selective in the women he became physically involved with, a result of needing to keep his club performances decisively separate from his personal life.<
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  Before things went any further, he wanted to explain himself to her. He wanted to make sure she understood that he wasn’t a tomcat constantly on the prowl for fresh pussy and using a male strip club to find it.

  Chapter Two

  “Let’s take that walk anyway.” Dane offered Shasta an encouraging smile. “While we’re getting that fresh air, I’ll explain the Macho Marauder to you.”

  “Wait.” She looked down at her bare feet. “My shoes…” She wiggled her feet into a pair of canvas slip-ons, then shoved her house key in her pocket. “I guess I’m ready.”

  He laced their fingers together. Her hand felt so good in his, as if it belonged there. They walked along the sidewalk in silence for a couple of minutes as he tried to collect his thoughts about how to explain things to her and exactly how much of his past to reveal. And even more confusing were his thoughts about why he wanted to explain something so very private and personal, something he had never confided to anyone.

  “About my Macho Marauder alter ego…it has to do with money. Stripping provides the maximum amount of money for the least amount of time and effort while not interfering with my real career. I’ve worked hard to establish my computer consulting business. I don’t want to jeopardize that, but I need all the extra cash I can get my hands on as quickly as possible so that I can…uh, pay off some heavy bills.”

  An uncomfortable ripple of anxiety invaded his consciousness. The last thing he wanted to do was reveal any details of his dysfunctional family background. He had spent most of his adult life trying to disassociate himself from anything and everything family related. “For medical expenses.”

  “Medical expenses?” She stopped walking, bringing him to an abrupt halt, her alarm obvious. “Are you ill?”

  “No, not at all. I’m in excellent health. I don’t even catch colds.” They started walking again as he collected his thoughts. How to explain without really revealing things he had tried so hard to bury deep inside him? “The expenses were incurred because of a lengthy illness my mother had before she died three years ago. I’ve been working to pay off that debt. A few more months and the Macho Marauder can fold his cape, throw away his mask and disappear into the night never to be seen again.” He chuckled as a thought occurred to him. “And get rid of that itchy damn wig.”