Chapter 8: Back in The Velvet Lounge
"Ah, look where we are," Georgios said, a sly smile spreading across his face as he gestured to the front door of The Velvet Lounge. "We should go inside to warm ourselves and then I will arrange for someone to take you home. I have enjoyed our time together, Detective." Georgios suggested, his eyes reflecting the neon light of the club's sign.
Melissa hesitated, knowing she should refuse, but the wine, the conversation, and the flattery made her nod in agreement. "Just for a moment."
They entered and Melissa was surprised to find the club completely empty.
No dancers, no patrons, just the faint hum of music echoing through the vacant space. Georgios led her to a private VIP section, separated from the main floor by a velvet rope and a small, circular stage. He motioned for her to sit on the a leather Chesterfield couch. Melissa sat down, crossing her legs so that the tops of her thighs were on show.
Georgios poured them both a shot of vodka from a decanter on the table. "Here's to surprising friendships," he said, handing her the glass. She clinked his glass and downed the shot, feeling the liquid burn its way down her throat.
Georgios refilled their glasses, his eyes never leaving hers. "You know, Detective," he started, his voice low and husky, "I've been thinking about you since the moment you walked into my club."
Melissa swallowed hard. "Is that so?" she managed to reply, her voice suddenly a shadow of its usual authority.
Georgios nodded. "Mmhm."
"Why?" Melissa asked with a whisper, her eyes locked onto Georgios'. The vodka had emboldened her.
"Because you don't seem satisfied, Melissa," Georgios growled. "You are a beautiful woman. And you should be satisfied."
Slowly, Melissa put down her glass and stumbled to her feet.
She felt drunk, not just on the vodka, but on Georgios' intensity, his confidence, his sheer magnetism. She swayed slightly, before clambering on to the small stage, her heels clicking against the polished wood. She stood there, holding on to the pole in the middle.
"This is where you wanted to see me dance?" Melissa asked, her voice barely audible over the soft hum of the music. She walked in a circle around the pole.
Georgios leaned back on the couch, his eyes never leaving her supple body. "Yes, Detective. I want to see what you've got."
Melissa took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her and began to move. Her hips swayed gently from side to side. She ran her hands up her sides, feeling the silk of the expensive dress against her skin. With her back to the pole for support she slowly lowered herself into a crouch, her legs spreading wide.
She looked up at Georgios, his eyes were devouring her as she stroked her hands up her thighs, pushing the dress up with them. She could feel the cool air between her legs, the lace panties Georgios had sent her barely covering her.
"How am I doing?" Melissa whispered hoarsely.
"Fucking beautifully," he reassured. "Show me more."
Melissa bit her lip, a surge of power coursing through her at his words. She spun around, facing the pole, and bent over, her ass sticking out. She looked back at Georgios over her shoulder, her eyes smoldering.
"Like this?" she asked, her voice laced with challenge.
"Exactly, like that."
She could hear the desire in his voice. She wiggled her hips, teasing him, a small smile playing on her lips. She felt reckless, wild, free. She felt wanted. Desired. Powerful. She wrappdd one leg around the pole, using it to lift herself up, her body spinning around it gracefully. She was no longer the detective, no longer the wife. She was a goddess, a temptress. She could see the bulge in Georgios' pants and she wanted to help it grow.
She took one of the straps of her dress and slowly pulled it down, exposing her shoulder, then did the same with the other strap. The dress fell to her waist, momentarily revealing her little breasts. She cupped them quickly, feeling their modest weight in her hands and concealing them from Georgios.
"Is this why you brought me here, Georgios?" Melissa asked, her eyes locked onto his. She could feel the anticipation building up, her clit throbbing. "To make me strip for you?"
Georgios didn't answer but continued to watch her. She turned her back to him and released her tits in order to push the dress down further, arching her back to give him a better view of her ass as the dress stretched over it and down her legs. She kicked the dress off to the side, standing there in nothing but the black lace panties and her heels. She heard Georgios' intake of breath, and it spurred her on.
Melissa dropped to her knees and began prowling the stage on all fours, her ass swaying enticingly. She could feel the wetness between her legs, her panties soaked. She looked back at Georgios and scrutinised his groin. His cock was straining against his pants, a large bulge evident. She crawled to the edge of the stage and slipped off of it elegantly before strutting the few steps towards the couch where he lounged.
Melissa stood before Georgios. Exposed and vulnerable but feeling confident and unashamed of her body. She lifted her leg and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Through the flimsy, drenched fabric of her panties, she could detect the outline of Georgios', apparently sizable, cock. She ground against him, her clit rubbing along its length through his pants, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. She moaned softly and pressed her tits against his chest.
"I was right about you Detective. You would make an excellent stripper." Georgios grunted appreciatively, his arms resting across the back of the couch.
Melissa, oddly gratified by Georgios' words, smirked playfully. "I'm glad you think so."
"It is regrettable that the rules of this club do not permit me to touch you," Georgios said calmly.
The idea of being touched forced her to clench her thighs. The fabric of the panties slipped and bunched up, uncovering her pussy to the heat radiating up from Georgios' cock.
"What do the rules say about me touching you?" Melissa asked tentatively, her eyes locked onto Georgios'.
Georgios' gaze darkened, his pupils dilating. "They say nothing about you touching me, Detective."
Melissa's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. She reached out, placing both hands on Georgios' chest. She could feel the hard muscles beneath his shirt, his heartbeat steady and strong. It was different from Tom's, more masculine, more powerful, she thought.
"Georgios!" A shout from across the club interrupted them. "We found her!"
Ivan's voice echoed through the club, breaking the spell between Melissa and Georgios. Melissa quickly climbed off Georgios' lap, red-faced, her body aching with an unfulfilled craving. She grabbed her dress from the floor and hastily put it back on, her hands shaking slightly.
Georgios stood up, adjusting himself discreetly. He fired off some instructions to Ivan in Greek, his voice betraying none of the tension that had been building between him and Melissa.
She smoothed down her dress, avoiding Georgios' gaze. "Who did you find?" she asked.
"Ivan will take you home, Detective." Georgios said walking away as if the last four hours hadn't happened.
Melissa nodded, unable to trust her voice. She followed Ivan out of the club. The cool night air hit her as they stepped outside, sobering her up instantly. Guilt overwhelmed her, her stomach turned at the thought of what she'd done, what she'd almost done. She couldn't believe she'd stripped for Georgios, let alone climbed onto his lap and dry-humped him like a teenager. She was a married woman, a cop, for fuck's sake. What was she thinking? She bent over in the gutter and vomitted.