Look Don't Touch

By: Tess Oliver


"What happened after he caught you?" Jack's question snapped me out of my erotic daydream.

"He made me watch hard core porn every night for an hour before I did homework. I had to struggle through math with a raging erection. But that wasn't all. The fucking madman took the doors off my bedroom and bathroom, making sure I didn't have a minute of privacy. He told me self-denial was the only way I was going to learn discipline."

Jack's eyes widened. "Holy shit, the more you tell me about your childhood, the more I wonder how the hell you are able to function as a human at all. Not that you're always human."

"Thanks."

"And did the porn slash self-denial thing work? Besides turning you into a warped adult, I mean?"

"I got an A in math, so I guess so." I picked up my drink and turned my focus back to the girl on stage. She was stripped down to a lacy bra and her sequined g-string, which split her milky white bottom into two perfectly bitable pillows. "What did you say her name was?"

"Shay. She has the kind of body, curves and face that give a guy wet dreams while he's wide awake."

I sat forward as Shay spun around and stretched her lithe body around the pole. The rest of the spectators hadn't settled down yet. They were waving their money around and nearly falling over themselves to get a better view.

"I can't pinpoint what it is about her," I said. "Her lips are too full and her nose is a touch crooked and yet . . ."

"She's incredible," Jack added.

"Yeah."

"It's just a natural sex appeal. And she doesn't seem to give a damn that she has the men in this room crazed and out of control. She just keeps to her routine and shoots that sweet Cover Girl style smile out at the crowd every once in awhile."

"And I'm already wondering what that Cover Girl smile would look like across a pillow after a night of fucking." I'd just lost the chance at a highly lucrative partnership because I couldn't keep my cock in my pants, yet I was still obsessed with fucking. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe I needed to employ one of my dad's severe tactics for regaining focus. Self denial. "You're right, Jack."

He pulled his eyes from the dancer. "That your dad was hatched in a science lab?"

"No, well, maybe that. I need to use my dad's methods to bring back my focus. I'm going to start my own damn company, but I've got to get my head one hundred percent back in the game or I will fail. Your analogy about the kid at the party was spot on."

"You're going to stick bowls of candy all around your house?"

I stopped and tilted my head in question. "How the fuck do you make so much money?"

He pointed to his face. "This mug is my secret weapon. I'm kidding about the candy. Let me guess—you're going to set up televisions all around your beach house and play cheap, dirty porn movies twenty-four seven, which you will watch with your hands tied behind your back so you can't jack off."

"Would you shut up for a second so I can finish. First of all, those porn movies are fucking background noise if I'm working on the computer or something. They were effective when I was fifteen, but now that I've experienced the real thing in hot curvy 3-D, they are useless. I need the real thing. I need temptation that is right in front of me so I can get back that laser focus I used to have."

The highly seductive dance on stage was coming to an end. The bra came off, revealing two star shaped pasties covering what I was sure were the most delectable pair of nipples on earth. A thunderous yell vibrated the walls. Shay kept to her routine, seemingly unaware of the ruckus she was creating on the club floor. Cash was flying onto the stage at her from every direction.

"Speaking of focus," Jack noted. "She doesn't miss a step. Rocky might just have found a gold mine with her. I swear that woman could bring a grown man to his knees with just a wink and a smile."

I leaned forward to get a better view of the stage. Shay, Rocky's new dance star, twirled around like a seductive ballerina. She looked totally out of place in the center of the crummy stage with its tattered silver curtains and sputtering spotlights. Her almond-shaped, brown eyes swept along the crowd and stopped temporarily on me. Our gazes stuck for a second, then she pulled hers away to finish her dance. My entire body instinctively leaned toward the stage as if that split second of locked gazes had secured me to her.

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