Delicious Nibble - Eve Black Sneak Peeks
Down 'n' Dirty Dog - "Meet Cute"
“Ladies and Gentlemen, time to get out your best treats so you can get the best tricks. Down ‘n’ Dirty is proud to present the one and only Devil Dog!” the seductive voice rang out over the now screaming crowd. Cat groaned. Lord, but she never knew a room could get so loud.
From beside her, Soraya chuckled, slapping her arm excitedly. Cat turned to look at her shockingly flustered friend, surprised at her level of interest in whoever Devil Dog was.
The room turned black, and suddenly the first beats of the song began. She immediately recognized “Bom Bidi Bom” by Nick Jonas. Invisible hands of ice and fire gripped her as a chill thrilled up her spine. She shivered, her nipples growing hard against her blouse.
What the hell was that? Oh, that couldn’t be good.
She sucked in a breath, her heart beginning to hammer. Then, when the lights on the stage snapped on, she stopped breathing altogether.
It was him.
Her neighbor. Mr. Sexy Neighbor. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
Of course, he’s a goddamn male stripper!
“Holy shit,” she blurted, and Soraya turned to her.
“What?”
“I know him.” The words just wouldn’t stop coming.
Soraya’s eyes grew wide. “Are you serious?” she shrieked, making the others look over at them.
“Is that your sexy neighbor?” Odette asked, owl eyes in effect.
Cat could only nod, her tongue finally too tied to speak, her gaze drawn back to the stage because…she just couldn’t not look. She’d been guiltily fantasizing about this man for more than eleven months. And now that she knew she was allowed to look at him….
She grit her teeth, fighting the urge to get up and get the hell out of there. What if he sees me, recognizes me? What if he thinks I’m stalking him? The chubby neighbor chick with the hard-on for him.
As her thoughts jumbled, she mentally slapped herself. There was no way Mr. Sexy Devil Dog had any idea who she was. They’d never met. And the chances of him seeing her in this crowd were two hundred plus to one. The way she looked compared to all the hot ladies in the room, his gaze would pass right over her, like the plain donut in the box of chocolate frosted with sprinkles.
Unaware of her brain malfunction, Dog continued to strut slowly across the stage to the slow intro music, using each downbeat to flex his body with each movement. It was mesmerizing…she couldn’t pull her gaze away.
Something she noticed now that she hadn’t noticed before, because she’d never been this close to him, was that he had a nose ring and an eyebrow ring. Holy shit. She’d never been one for piercings in men, but on Dog…it made her want to do nasty, nasty things to him.
Damn! Who is this woman I’ve become?!
As the lyrics kicked in, Dog jumped, his feet landing shoulder-width apart as he ran his hands down his chest and abs, thrusting his hips in a circular motion.
The ladies closest to him reached out, and he moved closer to them, sliding to his knees to thrust his cock into their waiting fingers—just out of reach of a good, hard grab. He smiled, his left, pierced eyebrow arching in a cocky manner.
Of course, he knew all those women wanted him! Why else would they be there? It had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn’t even taken his shirt off, and Cat already knew he was physically perfect. Nothing.
Liar!
Annnnd there went the shirt. With a practiced move, Dog grabbed the thin collar of his tight white t-shirt and ripped the thing right down the middle, exposing miles and miles of taut flesh.
And that wasn’t the best—err, worst!—part!
Tattoos. Tattoos as far as the eye could see. Dear God, the man was inked perfection! And the gasps from Delia and Soraya told Cat they agreed. Of course, like Cat, they appreciated a great work of art.
Running a large hand through his longish black hair, he showed flexing biceps and forearms to perfection. When he slid his hand down over his beard, Dog drew her eyes to his mouth and the constant, knowing smirk. Cat was both enticed and annoyed.
Yeah, you’re hot shit, but I can do without you!
He didn’t hear her, of course, so he just kept on dancing as the music kept on playing and the women kept on screaming.
Cat pulled on the collar of her blouse, her skin growing hotter and hotter as though the room was catching fire…and all the oxygen was being sucked out.
Can’t let him see…can’t let him see… Dragging her strength up from her toes, she forced herself to pull her shoulders back, stare straight ahead, and lock down her expression. He would never know how every move he made turned her blood to fire or how his movements made her think of him doing those things to her while they were both naked in her bed. Or how she wished she knew what it felt like to walk out of his front door in the morning, her body wrecked from his fucking and her legs unable to hold her upright.
Thank God, I’ll never see him like this again.
Hell, maybe it was time to move.
Lost in thought, she almost screamed when Soraya elbowed her in the ribs. Hard. Cat grunted, snapping her head around to glare at her friend.
“What the hell?” she blurted, rubbing at her bruised rib.
“Look!” she yelled, pointing toward the stage. Like a fool, Cat followed Soraya’s direction and trained her attention to the one place in the room she should have been avoiding.
Jaw on the floor.
He. Is. Looking. At. Me. And not just looking, he was…performing for her. There was no other way to describe it.
Her whole body stiffened, and the blood rushed to her face, heating her cheeks to molten lava temps. The music faded out as her ears started to pound. Her breathing ragged, she forced every last ounce of willpower into keeping her expression passive.
Never again would a man make her feel weak. Never again.
Determined to show him and herself what she was made of, she made eye contact. Dear God, he smirked, and heat like the surface of the sun blasted through her body and into her core. She clenched her thighs together, unable to stop her body from responding. Thankfully, most of her traitorous body was hidden by the table.
He was staring at her, smirking, dancing for her…but he didn’t care who she was. To him, she was a bigger tip, a hit to his ego. To her, he was a reminder of how much opposites could hurt. He was nothing to her.
Except for the hottest man you’ve ever seen…oh, yeah, and your neighbor!
Holding his gaze, she reached out for her drink with trembling hands and picked it up, raising it to her mouth to sip it. As if she’d practiced it a million times, she kept her expression neutral, which was a hell of a lot harder than you’d think. She held her breath, held his gaze, and put her drink back on the table.
Beside her, Soraya wiggled in her seat, her body practically vibrating with excitement.
“Hoooooly shit, Cat!” she squealed.
Her muscles aching from the tension of keeping herself still and her jaw hurting from keeping her mouth from falling open, and her chest burning from her jerky, shallow breaths, she was a freaking wreck.
On another downbeat, Dog finally turned away to peer at the women closest to the stage. His smile in place, he winked before biting his lower lip. Fuuuck, that’s sexy. That plump lower lip was perfect for biting. Sucking. Wrapping around an aching nipple--
Dammit!
Somewhere along the way, Dog had lost his shoes, leaving him in just his jeans, ink, sweat, and god-like sex appeal. Dog raised his hands to the waistband of his worn and strategically stained jeans and popped the top button. The screaming escalated. With a move designed to show the perfection of his flexing ab muscles and lickable Adonis V, he arched his back and thrust his body forward just as he yanked open his zipper, letting the jeans fall to the stage. Kicking the jeans to the side, he raised his arms to slide his fingers through his thick, black hair, which, of course, allowed the happy viewer to see every inch of his beautiful body. He slid his hands from his neck, over his sweaty chest, down his rock-hard abs, and into the front of his white boxer briefs, which were obviously a club uniform of sorts. Cat watched in shock and fascination as he grabbed his own cock and thrust his hips into the face of the closest woman.
Cat was both horrified for and jealous of that screaming woman.
Shuddering, she chastised her basic bitch self, reminding said bitch that beautiful men were ugly on the inside and that they didn’t want one because they didn’t want us. No matter what pretty words they spoke or how well they moved their gorgeous bodies…on stage or in bed.
Suddenly, all the strength she thought she had abandoned her. Speaking to no one in particular, she excused herself from the table, practically pushing Soraya onto the floor in her haste to evacuate the banquette. As she made a break for it, Soraya’s shouts fell on deaf ears. Cat rushed toward the back, where she’d spotted the bathroom sign earlier.
I just need a minute. She just needed to get away from the heat, the noise, and the man on the stage, whose every heated look, sexual movement, and sensual expression was chipping away at the wall she’d erected years ago. The wall that had protected her from falling to pieces. The wall that kept her safe, secure--
Alone.
That word beat against her heart, a foreign rhythm causing her to stumble, almost falling into a woman leaving the women’s bathroom. She straightened herself, refusing to let one word ruin her. She would rather be alone for the rest of her life than ever experience the excruciating pain of ultimate betrayal again.
Yup. Alone. Forever.
With that thought in mind, she escaped the crowd to go cower in the bathroom stall.
From beside her, Soraya chuckled, slapping her arm excitedly. Cat turned to look at her shockingly flustered friend, surprised at her level of interest in whoever Devil Dog was.
The room turned black, and suddenly the first beats of the song began. She immediately recognized “Bom Bidi Bom” by Nick Jonas. Invisible hands of ice and fire gripped her as a chill thrilled up her spine. She shivered, her nipples growing hard against her blouse.
What the hell was that? Oh, that couldn’t be good.
She sucked in a breath, her heart beginning to hammer. Then, when the lights on the stage snapped on, she stopped breathing altogether.
It was him.
Her neighbor. Mr. Sexy Neighbor. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
Of course, he’s a goddamn male stripper!
“Holy shit,” she blurted, and Soraya turned to her.
“What?”
“I know him.” The words just wouldn’t stop coming.
Soraya’s eyes grew wide. “Are you serious?” she shrieked, making the others look over at them.
“Is that your sexy neighbor?” Odette asked, owl eyes in effect.
Cat could only nod, her tongue finally too tied to speak, her gaze drawn back to the stage because…she just couldn’t not look. She’d been guiltily fantasizing about this man for more than eleven months. And now that she knew she was allowed to look at him….
She grit her teeth, fighting the urge to get up and get the hell out of there. What if he sees me, recognizes me? What if he thinks I’m stalking him? The chubby neighbor chick with the hard-on for him.
As her thoughts jumbled, she mentally slapped herself. There was no way Mr. Sexy Devil Dog had any idea who she was. They’d never met. And the chances of him seeing her in this crowd were two hundred plus to one. The way she looked compared to all the hot ladies in the room, his gaze would pass right over her, like the plain donut in the box of chocolate frosted with sprinkles.
Unaware of her brain malfunction, Dog continued to strut slowly across the stage to the slow intro music, using each downbeat to flex his body with each movement. It was mesmerizing…she couldn’t pull her gaze away.
Something she noticed now that she hadn’t noticed before, because she’d never been this close to him, was that he had a nose ring and an eyebrow ring. Holy shit. She’d never been one for piercings in men, but on Dog…it made her want to do nasty, nasty things to him.
Damn! Who is this woman I’ve become?!
As the lyrics kicked in, Dog jumped, his feet landing shoulder-width apart as he ran his hands down his chest and abs, thrusting his hips in a circular motion.
The ladies closest to him reached out, and he moved closer to them, sliding to his knees to thrust his cock into their waiting fingers—just out of reach of a good, hard grab. He smiled, his left, pierced eyebrow arching in a cocky manner.
Of course, he knew all those women wanted him! Why else would they be there? It had nothing to do with the fact that he hadn’t even taken his shirt off, and Cat already knew he was physically perfect. Nothing.
Liar!
Annnnd there went the shirt. With a practiced move, Dog grabbed the thin collar of his tight white t-shirt and ripped the thing right down the middle, exposing miles and miles of taut flesh.
And that wasn’t the best—err, worst!—part!
Tattoos. Tattoos as far as the eye could see. Dear God, the man was inked perfection! And the gasps from Delia and Soraya told Cat they agreed. Of course, like Cat, they appreciated a great work of art.
Running a large hand through his longish black hair, he showed flexing biceps and forearms to perfection. When he slid his hand down over his beard, Dog drew her eyes to his mouth and the constant, knowing smirk. Cat was both enticed and annoyed.
Yeah, you’re hot shit, but I can do without you!
He didn’t hear her, of course, so he just kept on dancing as the music kept on playing and the women kept on screaming.
Cat pulled on the collar of her blouse, her skin growing hotter and hotter as though the room was catching fire…and all the oxygen was being sucked out.
Can’t let him see…can’t let him see… Dragging her strength up from her toes, she forced herself to pull her shoulders back, stare straight ahead, and lock down her expression. He would never know how every move he made turned her blood to fire or how his movements made her think of him doing those things to her while they were both naked in her bed. Or how she wished she knew what it felt like to walk out of his front door in the morning, her body wrecked from his fucking and her legs unable to hold her upright.
Thank God, I’ll never see him like this again.
Hell, maybe it was time to move.
Lost in thought, she almost screamed when Soraya elbowed her in the ribs. Hard. Cat grunted, snapping her head around to glare at her friend.
“What the hell?” she blurted, rubbing at her bruised rib.
“Look!” she yelled, pointing toward the stage. Like a fool, Cat followed Soraya’s direction and trained her attention to the one place in the room she should have been avoiding.
Jaw on the floor.
He. Is. Looking. At. Me. And not just looking, he was…performing for her. There was no other way to describe it.
Her whole body stiffened, and the blood rushed to her face, heating her cheeks to molten lava temps. The music faded out as her ears started to pound. Her breathing ragged, she forced every last ounce of willpower into keeping her expression passive.
Never again would a man make her feel weak. Never again.
Determined to show him and herself what she was made of, she made eye contact. Dear God, he smirked, and heat like the surface of the sun blasted through her body and into her core. She clenched her thighs together, unable to stop her body from responding. Thankfully, most of her traitorous body was hidden by the table.
He was staring at her, smirking, dancing for her…but he didn’t care who she was. To him, she was a bigger tip, a hit to his ego. To her, he was a reminder of how much opposites could hurt. He was nothing to her.
Except for the hottest man you’ve ever seen…oh, yeah, and your neighbor!
Holding his gaze, she reached out for her drink with trembling hands and picked it up, raising it to her mouth to sip it. As if she’d practiced it a million times, she kept her expression neutral, which was a hell of a lot harder than you’d think. She held her breath, held his gaze, and put her drink back on the table.
Beside her, Soraya wiggled in her seat, her body practically vibrating with excitement.
“Hoooooly shit, Cat!” she squealed.
Her muscles aching from the tension of keeping herself still and her jaw hurting from keeping her mouth from falling open, and her chest burning from her jerky, shallow breaths, she was a freaking wreck.
On another downbeat, Dog finally turned away to peer at the women closest to the stage. His smile in place, he winked before biting his lower lip. Fuuuck, that’s sexy. That plump lower lip was perfect for biting. Sucking. Wrapping around an aching nipple--
Dammit!
Somewhere along the way, Dog had lost his shoes, leaving him in just his jeans, ink, sweat, and god-like sex appeal. Dog raised his hands to the waistband of his worn and strategically stained jeans and popped the top button. The screaming escalated. With a move designed to show the perfection of his flexing ab muscles and lickable Adonis V, he arched his back and thrust his body forward just as he yanked open his zipper, letting the jeans fall to the stage. Kicking the jeans to the side, he raised his arms to slide his fingers through his thick, black hair, which, of course, allowed the happy viewer to see every inch of his beautiful body. He slid his hands from his neck, over his sweaty chest, down his rock-hard abs, and into the front of his white boxer briefs, which were obviously a club uniform of sorts. Cat watched in shock and fascination as he grabbed his own cock and thrust his hips into the face of the closest woman.
Cat was both horrified for and jealous of that screaming woman.
Shuddering, she chastised her basic bitch self, reminding said bitch that beautiful men were ugly on the inside and that they didn’t want one because they didn’t want us. No matter what pretty words they spoke or how well they moved their gorgeous bodies…on stage or in bed.
Suddenly, all the strength she thought she had abandoned her. Speaking to no one in particular, she excused herself from the table, practically pushing Soraya onto the floor in her haste to evacuate the banquette. As she made a break for it, Soraya’s shouts fell on deaf ears. Cat rushed toward the back, where she’d spotted the bathroom sign earlier.
I just need a minute. She just needed to get away from the heat, the noise, and the man on the stage, whose every heated look, sexual movement, and sensual expression was chipping away at the wall she’d erected years ago. The wall that had protected her from falling to pieces. The wall that kept her safe, secure--
Alone.
That word beat against her heart, a foreign rhythm causing her to stumble, almost falling into a woman leaving the women’s bathroom. She straightened herself, refusing to let one word ruin her. She would rather be alone for the rest of her life than ever experience the excruciating pain of ultimate betrayal again.
Yup. Alone. Forever.
With that thought in mind, she escaped the crowd to go cower in the bathroom stall.
