Free All In: Double or Nothing by Lane Hart Page A

hand went between her closed thighs and I actually groaned out loud. Thankfully that was the end of her performance. She laid stretched out, propped up on her elbows with one knee bent up on the edge of the stage so men could slide their dollars in her thigh highs, since that was the only place for her to hold them. Seeing men rub their grubby hands over the top of her inner thighs, getting an extra feel as they inserted their money, had my blood boiling.
    I was still sitting paralyzed when hands rubbed down my shoulders from behind my chair. I turned around to tell the girl I wasn't interested, but the words caught in my throat when I saw it was Lauren, or Chastity as she was known here.
    “Hey Officer. You ready for that lap dance?” she asked with a genuine sweet smile, like she really was glad to see me.
    I couldn't help but grin back as I took her in from her heels all the way up to her pigtails, standing so close to me I could reach out and touch her.
    “Fuck yes, I’m ready. It's all I’ve been thinking about for a week.”
    She grabbed my hand and led me down the dark hall to one of the private rooms. On the way she told a big bouncer to give her about thirty minutes and she’d be back out. I looked around the small, softly lit room when we went in, but didn’t see any cameras. I knew they had to be there somewhere.
    “One in each corner and one in the speaker,” Lauren said, answering my silent question. "So keep your hands to yourself, or they'll throw you out."
    "Do you have to keep your hands to yourself?" I asked.
    "No, but I'll get bitched out if I don’t. Now, sit down so I can get started. I do have paying customers waiting to get in here with me.”
    Shit if that didn’t feel like a fist to my stomach.
    “Why do you work here Lauren?”
    “Don’t even start that Tyler. You know why - the money. So just sit back and relax.”
    I sat down on the red velvet couch. It was more of a truck bench seat, since there weren't any armrests or cushion. Better suited for the dancing, I was sure. The music from the front of the club was blaring through the speakers, Def Leppard crooning about pouring some sugar on him in the name of love. You could actually hear the men from the front room cheering and yelling for the woman on stage. Lauren started into her private performance for me, redressed in the pieces of scrap fabric called a skirt and shirt, and damn if the outfit wasn’t almost as sexy as her being completely naked.
    She spread my thighs wide to stand between them, then turned her back to me as she rolled her hips down to the ground, bracing her hands on the tops of my thighs.
    “Goddamn,” I groaned as her ass rubbed over my lap on the way down, and then again when she came back up.
    “Do you ever have naughty school girl fantasies, Tyler?”
    “No, but I bet I’ll have quite a few of those from now on.”
    She turned around and bent down, giving me an eyeful of her breasts, barely being held in by the tiny white shirt. Her hands went to the tie on the front, then changed direction and spread out over her breasts, while the rest of her body kept swaying.
    “Do you want me to take my top off?”
    “No.”
    “No?” she asked, surprised.
    “I want to take it off of you,” I told her, reaching up to undo the knot. Pulling back the fabric, her full, natural, C cup breasts fell out, and I pushed the shirt down her arms until it was completely off.
    Fuck if my hands didn't twitch, wanting to touch them. I put them under my thighs, hoping that'd keep them off of her. I sure as hell didn't want to get thrown out, this was just too damn good.
    "Thinking about what it'd be like to touch them?" she asked.
    “Damn Lauren. They are so fucking perfect,” I told her, my eyes hypnotized by her soft mounds as they swayed with her movements. "I'd kill to put one in my mouth."
    Either my comment or the cool air hardened her nipples, and she reached up to rub her hands over them, teasing them, and me.
    "You