After the performance, we moved into the private booth section, and there the air changed. It wasn't a physical sensation, but a certainty like a switch being thrown. There, out of the blue, I saw him. My heart skipped a beat… Liam stood framed in the archway of the VIP section. He had been my client, then my lover; he had learned to know himself better through sex and tango.
He was brilliant, demanding, very involved romantically, and terribly possessive. I had ended the liaison, a clean break, to return to Mali, but now his lingering shadow had rematerialized before my eyes. He hadn't changed. Custom suit, impeccable tailoring, the kind of quiet confidence that didn't need to shout to demand attention. When he looked at me, I couldn't look away.
I got mixed up; the unexpected situation made me quite nervous but also nostalgic. Then he looked at Mali, a little smirk playing on his lips. He walked past the bouncer, who somehow seemed smaller in his presence, and approached Lady G, speaking briefly into her ear. Her eyebrows shot up. She glanced at me, then at Mali, then back at the check Liam had clearly just handed her.
She beckoned us over. "Girls, Mr. Hayes has a reservation for the Grand Suite. You are both requested. Exclusive." My heart was pounding against my ribs; I felt a growing apprehension mixed with a sickening rush of heat. He had bought my night and chosen Mali as well. Now he was ******* the two halves of my life, the shadow of the past and the light of the present, to intersect.
"Hispana…" Liam said, kissing my hand, "you're even more captivating than I remember." I smiled, trying to hide my emotional state, and introduced him. "Mali, this is Liam, an old friend." Mali extended her hand. "Pleased to meet you, sir," she said, smiling. Liam took her hand. "I've been looking forward to seeing you firsthand. Lady G has told me of your… talents," he replied.
The Grand Suite was soundproof, dark, and overwhelmingly opulent. It held a lush king-size bed, mirrored walls, and discreet lighting. Liam was already removing his jacket. He was a presence, commanding the gravity in the room. He looked at me with a smile playing on his lips and came closer. "Ana, I always had a detective following you. I know everything," he murmured in my ear.
"You hired a private investigator, hijo de puta…" slipped out of my lips, my voice as nervous as the tremor in my hands. "I only invest in things of high value," he countered, his gaze roaming over me. "I've suffered like hell, and I can't stay away from you, you who are my need." I felt a stirring within, resentment and guilt mixed together. "I want you back. Damn…" he whispered.
I pulled back, my eyes meeting his. "I can't, Liam. I've moved on, but I can offer you something else." He raised an eyebrow, then with a small grimace on his face stepped toward Mali, who had begun to slowly take off her high boots. He didn't touch her, but his proximity was invasive. "I missed your fire, Hispana. But I was curious about this other side of you: the partnership."
The power of the dynamics was evident. Liam wanted control, but in that room, we were the experts. We shared a look, a silent communication that said: He pays the bill, but we write the script. We started professionally. A slow, artistic stripping focused on the client's gaze. Mali moved like a Khon Thai dancer, all her exotic beauty a stark contrast to the hard lines of the room.
I was all aggressive intensity, using the clicking of heels while dancing, my hips and eyes to ignite the space. He watched, seated on the edge of the bed, his face impassive until we were both naked before him. Then, the script flipped. He pulled me onto his lap, hard, without warning. My hands instinctively went to his chest. His familiar, demanding touch suddenly captivated me.
"Show her how you taught me to dance, Hispana," he commanded, his breath hot against my ear. I resented the instruction, but my body responded. We moved, a dark, carnal tango, the dance I had taught him taking on a dangerous, unpredictable rhythm. But it was Mali who changed the game. She didn't wait to be invited. She moved around us, her hands gliding over my skin, then Liam's.
Mali was clinical, yet intensely sensual. She understood instantly the geometry of control and pleasure Liam craved. The intensity escalated rapidly. He was the sole powerful focal point, but the energy generated between Mali and me as we danced was the true voltage in the room. We shifted positions and roles, becoming mirrors of each other, moving our bodies in perfect connection.
My hips and my eyes guided Liam's movements and breathing. The old chemistry ignited once more. I could feel his arousal, the connection that still existed between us. When Mali, from behind, slid her hands over Liam's privates, we pushed toward a crescendo that grew faster. He gasped, his eyes darkened, his fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth devoured mine.
"You taste the same," Liam growled against my face. "Still fucking sweet." I merely smiled, turning to Mali, who was watching us with keen interest. Her exotic cat-like eyes sparkled, something I recognized too well. Mali is a master at playing coy, her laughter light and her touch against his arm held a promise. "I've heard stories about you and Hispana, Mr. Hayes," she whispered.
Liam's Adam's apple bobbed, his eyes locked onto Mali's. "And what have you heard?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Mali's tongue darted out, licking her upper lip slowly. "That you're insatiable," she said, her gaze flickering to mine. "That you could make a woman forget her own name." Liam's eyes darkened again. He reached out, his hand cupping Mali's cheek, his thumb tracing her lips.
"What if I am?" he asked, leaning in to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. Then the room exploded into a symphony of moans and gasps. Mali's hands tangled in Liam's hair, and her body arched against his. I could feel the heat between them radiating through the room. She undressed him, looking deeply into his eyes. I watched them, my heart pounding in my chest, overwhelmed by desire.
He was brilliant, demanding, very involved romantically, and terribly possessive. I had ended the liaison, a clean break, to return to Mali, but now his lingering shadow had rematerialized before my eyes. He hadn't changed. Custom suit, impeccable tailoring, the kind of quiet confidence that didn't need to shout to demand attention. When he looked at me, I couldn't look away.
I got mixed up; the unexpected situation made me quite nervous but also nostalgic. Then he looked at Mali, a little smirk playing on his lips. He walked past the bouncer, who somehow seemed smaller in his presence, and approached Lady G, speaking briefly into her ear. Her eyebrows shot up. She glanced at me, then at Mali, then back at the check Liam had clearly just handed her.
She beckoned us over. "Girls, Mr. Hayes has a reservation for the Grand Suite. You are both requested. Exclusive." My heart was pounding against my ribs; I felt a growing apprehension mixed with a sickening rush of heat. He had bought my night and chosen Mali as well. Now he was ******* the two halves of my life, the shadow of the past and the light of the present, to intersect.
"Hispana…" Liam said, kissing my hand, "you're even more captivating than I remember." I smiled, trying to hide my emotional state, and introduced him. "Mali, this is Liam, an old friend." Mali extended her hand. "Pleased to meet you, sir," she said, smiling. Liam took her hand. "I've been looking forward to seeing you firsthand. Lady G has told me of your… talents," he replied.
The Grand Suite was soundproof, dark, and overwhelmingly opulent. It held a lush king-size bed, mirrored walls, and discreet lighting. Liam was already removing his jacket. He was a presence, commanding the gravity in the room. He looked at me with a smile playing on his lips and came closer. "Ana, I always had a detective following you. I know everything," he murmured in my ear.
"You hired a private investigator, hijo de puta…" slipped out of my lips, my voice as nervous as the tremor in my hands. "I only invest in things of high value," he countered, his gaze roaming over me. "I've suffered like hell, and I can't stay away from you, you who are my need." I felt a stirring within, resentment and guilt mixed together. "I want you back. Damn…" he whispered.
I pulled back, my eyes meeting his. "I can't, Liam. I've moved on, but I can offer you something else." He raised an eyebrow, then with a small grimace on his face stepped toward Mali, who had begun to slowly take off her high boots. He didn't touch her, but his proximity was invasive. "I missed your fire, Hispana. But I was curious about this other side of you: the partnership."
The power of the dynamics was evident. Liam wanted control, but in that room, we were the experts. We shared a look, a silent communication that said: He pays the bill, but we write the script. We started professionally. A slow, artistic stripping focused on the client's gaze. Mali moved like a Khon Thai dancer, all her exotic beauty a stark contrast to the hard lines of the room.
I was all aggressive intensity, using the clicking of heels while dancing, my hips and eyes to ignite the space. He watched, seated on the edge of the bed, his face impassive until we were both naked before him. Then, the script flipped. He pulled me onto his lap, hard, without warning. My hands instinctively went to his chest. His familiar, demanding touch suddenly captivated me.
"Show her how you taught me to dance, Hispana," he commanded, his breath hot against my ear. I resented the instruction, but my body responded. We moved, a dark, carnal tango, the dance I had taught him taking on a dangerous, unpredictable rhythm. But it was Mali who changed the game. She didn't wait to be invited. She moved around us, her hands gliding over my skin, then Liam's.
Mali was clinical, yet intensely sensual. She understood instantly the geometry of control and pleasure Liam craved. The intensity escalated rapidly. He was the sole powerful focal point, but the energy generated between Mali and me as we danced was the true voltage in the room. We shifted positions and roles, becoming mirrors of each other, moving our bodies in perfect connection.
My hips and my eyes guided Liam's movements and breathing. The old chemistry ignited once more. I could feel his arousal, the connection that still existed between us. When Mali, from behind, slid her hands over Liam's privates, we pushed toward a crescendo that grew faster. He gasped, his eyes darkened, his fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth devoured mine.
"You taste the same," Liam growled against my face. "Still fucking sweet." I merely smiled, turning to Mali, who was watching us with keen interest. Her exotic cat-like eyes sparkled, something I recognized too well. Mali is a master at playing coy, her laughter light and her touch against his arm held a promise. "I've heard stories about you and Hispana, Mr. Hayes," she whispered.
Liam's Adam's apple bobbed, his eyes locked onto Mali's. "And what have you heard?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Mali's tongue darted out, licking her upper lip slowly. "That you're insatiable," she said, her gaze flickering to mine. "That you could make a woman forget her own name." Liam's eyes darkened again. He reached out, his hand cupping Mali's cheek, his thumb tracing her lips.
"What if I am?" he asked, leaning in to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. Then the room exploded into a symphony of moans and gasps. Mali's hands tangled in Liam's hair, and her body arched against his. I could feel the heat between them radiating through the room. She undressed him, looking deeply into his eyes. I watched them, my heart pounding in my chest, overwhelmed by desire.
