I wanted to tear it off her. She was clearly uncomfortable in it, and she probably bought the dress never imagining she'd really wear it, but I wanted to parade her around the club in it, get men staring at her perfect tits, and know that she wouldn't fuck a single one of them. I knew that in the end, she'd give herself to me.
It was just a bonus that I got to see her so totally embarrassed and awkward. I wanted to humiliate her, but only enough to make her soaking wet and desperate for my cock.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she said.
"You're going to make every dick hard in that club."
"Yeah, right. I look like a hooker."
"An expensive hooker."
"I look like I suck fat guys off under a bridge."
I laughed and shook my head. "No, sis. You look like you fuck for millions. Like your pussy is worth your weight in gold."
"Still like a hooker, though."
"Maybe," I said, putting my arm around her waist and pulling her against me. She practically fell into my arms, not used to the heels. "But I'm already fucking hard. We can break our deal and stay in if you promise to suck my cock nice and long."
"No way," she said, pushing away from me.
"Your loss."
"Doubtful."
Just then, her phone began to ring. She answered it and then hung up after a second.
"Lydie is downstairs."
"After you."
I grinned to myself as she teetered downstairs like a baby giraffe finally learning to walk.
"Why do you even own those if you can't walk in them?" I asked.
"Because they're cute. But I never wear them."
"Obviously."
She gave me a dirty look and nearly fell down the steps. I caught her by the wrist and held her steady.
"Careful," I said. "Seriously."
She nodded, her eyes wide, and began to walk down the steps more carefully.
"Never liked heels," she grumbled as we finally got downstairs.
"Your ass looks incredible, though."
She blushed and looked away as she pulled open the door. Lydie was standing there, looking every bit the prostitute, and she squealed with delight when she saw Claire. Apparently she was excited that she wasn't the only one looking like a high-class hoe.
"Holy fucking shit, bitch!"
"I know. I feel so stupid."
"You look hot as fuck. Are you kidding me? I'm practically dripping wet just looking at you." She glanced at me. "And are you our chaperone for tonight?"
"Yes, I am."
"Good. Always nice to have a man around to scare off the weaklings."
I laughed as we all walked into the kitchen.
"Seriously, Claire, you look amazing. If you don't get at least four guys trying to fuck you tonight, I'll castrate myself. Seriously."
"I'm not interested," Claire said.
"How about a little pregame shot?" I said, cutting in. I got down three glasses and a bottle of expensive, handmade Vodka.
"Can't say no to that!" Lydie said, and Claire laughed.
I poured the shots and we knocked them back. I felt the reassuring weight of my gun tucked into my pants, hidden by my shirt, as the girls laughed and made inside jokes that I was only barely listening to.
Truthfully, I didn't want this to happen. I wasn't lying when I said a nightclub would be the worst possible place to take Claire. It was crowded and easy to lose her, plus they would be drinking, which only made the situation more dangerous. I took one shot to loosen me up, but I knew I couldn't drink much more.
I needed my wits about me. It wasn't likely that something bad was going to happen, but there was a chance. That was why I had my knife and my gun, both ready.
Soon I was able to corral the girls out to an Uber, which took us downtown. They were tipsy but not too drunk, and the excited feeling that always came before a night out was heavy in the car. We were going to the same club that I'd first met Claire at, which brought a bunch of memories flooding through me as we climbed out of the car.
The line out front was enormous, but I immediately escorted the two girls up to the front of the line. Claire was clinging to my arm the whole time, clearly afraid she was going to break an ankle in her shoes, and I caught more than one guy giving her a second look. She definitely noticed them as well, which only made her more self-conscious.
It took us a minute of explaining and a quick flashing of I.D.s before the bouncer figured out that Claire's dad owned the club and let us in. I felt bad for the assholes still waiting in line, but being with a rich spoiled girl and her friend did have its perks.
My head was on a swivel as soon as we were inside. My first priority was to get them into the VIP area as fast as possible without any incidents. Of course, Lydie wanted to dance, but I managed to drag them along and beyond the red velvet rope.
Once seated, Lydie immediately began texting. Claire sat close to me and practically yelled into my ear.
"It's so packed in here!"
"I know. More danger."
"Are you going to be no fun all night?"
"Please, sis. I'm always fun."
"Not when you're too worried about me getting snatched by pirates."
"I'm more worried about getting in that snatch tonight than I am about pirates."
She gave me a confused look, and I laughed, shaking my head. She either didn't hear me or didn't understand my pun, and I wasn't about to repeat it.
The waitress walked over and took our drink orders. I stuck with a light beer, mostly because I didn't want to stick out too much by not drinking, but also because I didn't want to get drunk.
When she returned with our drinks, Lydie put her phone away.
"Claire, did you see how many guys were staring at you?" she yelled.
"What?"
"She said," I cut in, "there are a bunch of guys that want to tear that dress off you."
"I didn't notice them."
The bass was heavy and loud, and the flashing lights were distracting. I knew I had to be constantly looking around or else risk us getting caught by surprise. It wasn't like I could exactly hear anything.
"Let's dance!" Lydie blurted out.
"Okay!" Claire said.
The girls were up and moving before I could react.
"Hold on," I said, grabbing Claire's wrist. "You can't go anywhere without me."
She gave me a little smirk. "Then you better come dance, big brother."
I gaped at her for a second and then burst out laughing, a huge grin on my face. All it took was two drinks and a sexy dress to bring the feisty slut out in her. And I fucking liked it.
I followed the girls onto the dance floor, and instantly Claire began to grind up against me, her hips pressed against mine. Lydie found her own guy in no time flat, almost as if she were a magnet for single, horny douchebags.
But I didn't give a shit about Lydie. In that moment, Claire was the only person in the world for me as our bodies pulsed together to the beat. My blood was on fire and my cock strained against my pants, rubbing against her thigh, but she didn't seem to care. In fact, she moved her hips faster, her arms draped loosely around my neck, my hands on her hips.
The world fell away and I forgot about my duty as a bodyguard. I didn't give a fuck about any of that. Claire was by far the sexiest girl in that club, and as soon as she had loosened up a little bit and stopped worrying about her clothes, she acted every bit as attractive as she looked.
I was ready to tear her to pieces, just like that first night. I wanted to lift her into the air and lower her slowly down onto my dick, let my cock sink balls deep into her. We danced for song after song, sweat building up on our bodies, and Lydie probably changed partners like ten times. Still, there was only Claire, our eyes locked together. It was like time stopped and we were the only people in the entire club.
Claire was unbelievable. Once she let loose, she was impossible to contain, and I couldn't imagine wanting to. Every inch of her oozed dirty, rough sex as we danced together, alone surrounded by strangers. For us, there was only the pulse of the music and the promise of what our bodies could do together if we let go and took it.
Which was exactly where my mind was heading. I didn't care about any of the excuses I'd thought up since that night. I didn't care if she was a clingy virgin or my stepsister. None of that bullshit mattered; there was only my deep, instinctual, animal need to fuck, and to fuck this girl deep and hard. I wanted to come deep inside her soft little silk and make her pussy mine. I wanted to hear her moan and scream my name over and over.
My dick was practically ready to tear through my pants. We'd danced together to a bunch of songs, and by the time I came up for air, Lydie was nowhere in sight.
"Where's Lydie?" I yelled to Claire over the music. My heart was hammering in my chest and fear spiked through me. I channeled that fear into a calm, battle readiness. It was a technique they taught us SEALs, a way to harness all the terror we felt during battle into a Zen-like battle state.
"She's at the bar," Claire said, pointing.