I dropped my bag in the bedroom, setting the small radio up in the corner. It was a cramped space, but for a personal show, I could have performed in a closet if I had to.

On a desk, I spotted a framed photo of Eliza. Her rich, oil-slick hair hung down over the pretty pink sweater she wore. If that was a recent photo, she hadn't changed a bit. Her location sure had, though.

Last I'd known, Eliza had been living in a tiny apartment. Whatever she was doing now, she'd upgraded her life a few notches.

Checking my phone, I eyed the email she'd sent me. Pleasantries and all that, then the real information. Eliza had requested a specific outfit for her friend. Not my favorite, but I was here to please.

Changing quickly, I caught the heavy emptiness of the music stopping. Then, outside, my first song began. The beat started slow, the rhythm building. It was time.

Even if I didn't dance much anymore, I still loved performing. It never failed to get my heart thrumming. Stepping into the hall, I adjusted my new jacket—my red tie—and strolled towards the fun. It was easy to find my targets, the girls were a tornado of noise. The second I rounded the corner, entering that dimmed room packed with wide-eyed women, they turned their excitement up a notch.

Oh yes. This was what I adored.

“Hey there,” I chuckled, dragging my fingers down the front of my jacket. “Sorry if I kept you ladies waiting.” Decked out like a billionaire entrepreneur, I was the man you saw in a Business magazine, or who you stared at from afar as he guided his Corvet down the street. Money. Power. Fantasy.

The group was made up entirely of women. That was good. There was usually one fucking guy who couldn't stand that someone else was getting all the attention. It always ended in hurt feelings, and once or twice there was a bloody nose involved. Never mine, though.

Raking my eyes across the room, I judged each of them—tried to grasp who they were and what they would like. Tall, curvy, blonde or even blue haired... I didn't care. I loved them all, and my cock loved them even more.

Eliza was standing to one side, her eyes narrowed in that knowing way of hers. She lifted a hand, waved subtly. We'd talk when things calmed down.

Popping my top button, I revealed some of the cream-colored undershirt. “My name is Huck.” They parted for me like a river while I swayed closer to the center. “And while all of you are beautiful, I'm looking for a certain someone.” Slowing down, I rocked my hips. Every set of eyes jumped down to my zipper, so fucking eager. I whispered, “The birthday girl.”

A giggle, a nervous titter. Turning, I spotted Janet. She was pointing at someone sitting in a chair. They'd set her up for me, an offering on a platter.

Conveniently, I was ravenous.

I should have spotted her initially, but she'd been hiding behind the standing bodies. They moved away, revealing the woman and her gaudy plastic crown that read the number 'twenty-two' in glittering silver.

She was the opposite of the adornment; bare of makeup and nothing sparkly. A simple white dress, copper-red hair. The picture of innocence.

Contagious energy threaded the air. The party-goers were living vicariously through their friend. She was wide-eyed and pink as a rose. I loved it, I wanted to see what colors the other parts of her body would turn.

Rolling my torso, I moved fluidly until I stood over her. “Guess you're the one I'm looking for.” Her eyes were frozen and unblinking. I could see my smiling face in her pupils. “What's your name, love?”

I knew it was Zoe, but I wanted to ease her into this situation. She wasn't giggling like her friends. Hearing her own voice should help break the ice.

“Uh, I'm Zoe.” Lowering her eyebrows, she shot a glare at Eliza and tugged the crown off of her head. “You don't need to do this. Go dance for someone else, I'm not—”

“Booo!” Eliza shouted, the others picking up the vibe. “This is your birthday gift! You can't back down!”

Dropping the crown to the floor, Zoe scrunched into her chair. “It's just not my thing,” she said softly, apologizing to me. Her nails gripped the edge of her seat, ready to break the wood.

I'd handled shy girls before. This didn't concern me. Cupping her cheek, I winked. “Don't worry, I won't be rough. I'll only do things that you'll like.” Her skin was porcelain, tiny freckles I wanted to lick.

She shivered under me, lost in the sea of screaming voices. I wasn't lying, I would only do what she liked...

I was just confident she'd love everything I did before this was over.

The music dropped, then picked up in tempo. Grinning, I leaned away and fingered my tie. The hush of anticipation grew, punctuated by the occasional whistle. My jacket was peeled away, the first thing to go—I was too warm to wear it any longer.

Bit by bit, I pulled my shirt open until the deep grooves of my stomach showed. I was a road map of tattoos, a variety show for those who were into that. It spoke about who I was, how pain meant nothing. Their yearning stares said they approved.

Zoe sat up, darting her attention over my marked flesh. Minutes ago she'd looked on the verge of disgust. The more of my carved skin that I displayed, the more she watched with rapt fascination.

Maybe Eliza got it wrong, I wondered, loosening the tie around my throat. The business look isn't Zoe's thing. This girl...

I think she likes it fucking wild.

Now I was grinning. I dug a woman who was spellbound by tattoos and raw grit. If that was Zoe, then perfect. I'd figured her out. I knew what to do next.

Draping the shirt over my shoulders, I let it hang. Fingers tugged at my belt buckle, the metal clinking; a few girls licked their lips.

Rolling like an ocean wave, I hypnotized Zoe from the moment the top button of my pants opened. It took a full second for the zipper to part over each single metal tooth. Nobody was breathing. They were under my spell.

The very top of my black briefs peeked into view. Painstakingly slow, I inched my pants down further. The hard lines of my lower stomach led the eye naturally. Zoe was caught. She was no longer the sweet, blushing bride. Those blue eyes were starving.

She wiggled in her chair. Impatience was her new friend. Smirking sharply, I purposefully adjusted my firming cock through my underwear. The crowd gasped and shrieked and giggled. I expected her to do the same.

Zoe lifted her eyes and met mine. There was no flinching, no blinking. This girl was fucking serious and it threw me off. My composure never broke, but I grabbed myself a second time. The new rush of arousal wasn't under my control.

Okay. Zoe was suddenly very interesting.

Normally, in this kind of environment, the girl getting the dance in front of her friends always ended up laughing and squealing. They covered their eyes, or they grabbed at me and put on a show for the other women.

This red-head, she was holding still but her energy was sizzling. The nails on her hands no longer dug into the chair. They rested on her thighs, slightly curled and occasionally flexing. She was fighting with herself. Zoe wanted to touch me and was holding back. Well. I couldn't allow that.

Reaching down, I scooped up her wrist and guided her to my stomach before she could react. Her palm was silky, gliding easily over the ridges of muscle. Never taking my stare off of hers, I took Zoe's fingers on a journey from my hipbone, to my sternum, then back down again.

She held steady, and that actually started to bother me. I wanted a reaction. I was eager to watch this woman go from stoic to shivering. Narrowing my eyes, I jerked her hand and used it to slide my pants completely down my thighs. Around us, the party was a wave of cheers.