Home > All the Pretty Poses (Pretty #2)(3)

All the Pretty Poses (Pretty #2)(3)
Author: M. Leighton

Unwanted because I stopped wanting Reese years ago. Stopped loving him. I had to. To survive.

And then his eyes rise to mine again. In them, I see recognition, a little anger, a little more desire and shock. A lot of shock.

All this transpires in a few short heartbeats. When I drag my eyes away, I realize that I’m shaking. I struggle to maintain my composure for the few remaining seconds of the song. When my number draws to an end, I make myself take slow, measured steps as I turn to walk away. But it’s not easy. In fact, it’s the second hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life.


It takes my brother slapping the back of my shoulder to get my eyes off of Kennedy as she walks away.

“You coming?”

Five minutes ago, I couldn’t wait to get home, but now…now, all I really want to do is go back stage and find Kennedy. I have no idea what I’d do after that. Kiss her. Shake her. Ask her what in the ten rings of hell she’s doing dancing in one of my clubs. But I can’t.

Well, I could, but I won’t. I shouldn’t.

Suddenly, I feel angry. And frustrated.

“Reese, man, what the hell?” Hemi prompts.

“I’m coming,” I snap, turning away from the stage so fast that my chair tips over. I nearly run right into our waitress, on her way back to our table with Sig’s next shot and my next drink.

She gasps in surprise. “I’m sorry. Pardon me.”

“My fault,” I tell her, grabbing her arm to keep her from stumbling backward.

She leans into me, looking up at me with her big blue eyes. “Thank you,” she breathes, her br**sts brushing my chest.

My first thought is that her eyes are the wrong color; they should be sea foam green. My second thought is a string of long, very harsh obscenities. My third thought is that maybe this girl is exactly what I need tonight after all.

“What time do you get off?”

“That all depends on you,” she replies suggestively. Unfortunately for her, my mood has changed. Drastically.

“Just give me the keys, Reese. We’ll wait in the car,” Hemi says from my left, blatantly annoyed. Unfortunately for him, he just gave me the window that I needed.

I take the keys to my Mercedes out of my pocket and slap them into his palm. “I’ll be out in ten.”

As soon as Hemi’s girlfriend is on her feet, with her back toward me, I tug my “distraction” in closer to my chest as I whisper down into her ear, “How do you feel about the men’s room?”

“Tonight, it’s my favorite place,” she purrs.

“That’s what I thought.”

And just like that, Kennedy is off my mind.

I lead Pandora to the men’s room, making sure it’s empty before I lock the door and pull her into my arms. She comes willingly. Like I knew she would.

I grab her ass in one hand and one plump tit in the other, squeezing both as I drag my lips over her throat.

“Tell me what you like,” she moans, swiveling her hips in just such a way that she massages my throbbing cock.

“I wanna see you playing with these,” I tell her, spreading the lapels of her top and baring her naked br**sts, “while you’re blowing me with these.” I cover her lips with my own, sucking the lower one into my mouth and biting it with my teeth.

As soon as I release her, the hot brunette kisses and rubs her way down my neck and chest, then on to my stomach before I feel her cup my balls through my pants. I groan, leaning my head back against the cool tile wall as she unzips my pants and dips her hand inside.

The first touch of her tongue to the tip of my c**k draws a groan from me. She licks and sucks, trailing her lips along the length from base to tip, but it’s not enough. I need…more. I need to bang something—or someone—hard. The waitress’s mouth slides down over my shaft, taking as many inches as she can all the way down into her throat. By touch, I reach down to thread my fingers into her hair, guiding her over me. Harder and harder, faster and faster.

My mistake is in raising my head to look down at her. She pauses to glance up and all I can see is that it’s the wrong eyes. The wrong mouth. The wrong face.

The wrong woman.

And just like that, Kennedy is on my mind again. Under my skin.

With an angry growl, I pull my dick out of the waitress’s mouth.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asks in a pouty, sexy voice, a voice that merely grates on my nerves at this point.

“Nothing you can fix. It’s not you, it’s… it’s just… Maybe you should just go back to work,” I tell her as pleasantly as I can, zipping up my pants and moving away from her. I’m so frustrated, all I want to do is put my fist through the wall. And then put my c**k into Kennedy.

Angrily, I turn toward the sink to wash my hands. In the mirror, I don’t see the muted fury of the eyes that are staring back at me. No, I see blatant disgust in the pale green ones that I’ve never been able to forget.

With a shake of my head, I look back and see only my reflection and, behind me, the waitress. Kennedy is nowhere to be found.

Except in my head.

Where she never left.


My heart is still hammering when I ease into the chair in front of my dressing table back stage. I glance down at my hands. They’re shaking.

Reese Spencer.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” I glance over at Karmen, the resident Southern Belle right here in Chicago, where she’s brushing the long, black wig that she’ll wear for her next dance. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

My laugh is dry. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.”

“Tell mama all about it,” she coos as she drags the brush through the silky strands. When I send her a wry look, she winks at me. “No, seriously. Tell me what happened. This is the most worked up I’ve seen you since you started here.”

I don’t normally share any of my business with the other girls. I’m a very private person. Always have been. Sometimes out of necessity, sometimes out of choice, but always private. That’s why I’m a little surprised when my mouth opens up and half my life story falls out.

“I just saw someone that I haven’t seen in years. I knew him when I was younger. I thought he was…he was…wow! I mean, he was just…” I pause and sigh. “It was like that,” I say, raising my brows meaningfully. “I thought the sun rose and set in his eyes.” In fact, I can remember watching a sunrise in his fathomless aqua eyes. Once. Before… I feel the pang of remembered devastation tug at my heart, like fresh new skin pulling at an old scar. “But then he left and never came back. I haven’t seen him since. Until tonight.”

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