Page 42 of Crushing Clover

“Come and watch us work out,” Lucky demanded, grabbing my hand and pulling me along.

“Watch you work out?” I hadn’t done that since the second month I’d been with them, back when Saint had still been positive I would try to sneak out of the house and escape if someone left me alone in the living room for two seconds.

“I watch the three of you get naked and sweaty every night in far more interesting circumstances. Why would I want to watch you lift weights and grunt?”

“Come on, trust me. You’ll like it.”

“Wow, someone’s full of himself today,” I teased, giving him a playful shove.

He pulled me close and smacked my ass. “Brat.”

“She’s not a brat with me,” Rush pointed out. “I guess you’re not a very good dominant.”

“There’s nothing wrong with brattiness in a submissive,” Lucky retorted as though this was well-traveled ground between them.

“You only say that because you don’t like to behave yourself.”

“Touché,” Lucky acknowledged, “but to be fair, you like me better when I don’t behave. It gives you the opportunity to get a little mean.”

“That’s where Saint and I differ. He doesn’t need an excuse to be mean.”

Saint scowled at us, but it seemed like a reflex rather than real anger. It was weird knowing there was a difference.

All four of us went out the back door and walked around the pool.

“So, what am I supposed to like about watching you guys work out?” I teased.

“Don’t be impatient.” Lucky pinched my ass. “You’re going to have to wait and see.”

“If it’s any consolation, Saint has no idea what’s going on either.” Rush shot Saint a look, but Saint really didn’t seem to care that he been left out of the loop.

“Yet another surprise for our captive? From Lucky? The mind boggles.”

“Be nice,” Lucky admonished.

“When, in the history of our relationship have I ever been nice? You don’t like me because I’m nice.”

“Whatever gave you the impression that I like you?” Lucky said, grinning.

“You better watch that mouth unless you want to get punished in front of the girl.”

Lucky flicked his gaze to me and away, as though he couldn’t handle the embarrassment, his cheeks turning a faint red.

“Leave him be, Saint. He’s excited.”

“He’s a grown man. He can be excited on the inside.”

“Lord, have you ever been excited before, Saint? Would we even know?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Violence excites me, if that’s what you’re asking. Aside from that? I was excited about getting a puppy when I turned seven.”

“You had a puppy?” both Lucky and Rush asked simultaneously.

“No, I was excited about the possibility of getting a puppy. My father thought they were too much trouble, even with servants to take care of it.”

“Poor little rich boy,” I teased.

“He was right,” he mused. “If you’re going to have pets, it’s much more convenient to have a useful one that cleans your boots on command.”

When we got to the pool house, which was more like a huge shed, Lucky flung open the door like a gameshow host. “Ta-da!”

I peeked inside, not seeing what he was excited about. Everything seemed to be in its usual spot.

Lucky urged me further into the space. The air conditioner was already running full blast, so it was cool compared to the oppressive heat outside.

It wasn’t until I was all the way in the room that I spotted the pole.

“Nice!” I said, grinning at Lucky. “Which one of you am I teaching first?”

“I thought you might enjoy it, and that we would enjoy watching you. If you want to teach me, though, I’m game.”

“I don’t know if I’m good enough to teach anyone, to be honest, but I really do enjoy it.”

He tugged my hair and grinned. “Maybe we can set one up at Cygnet so you can entertain people while they eat.”

“Always trying to get out of working, huh, Luck?” Rush joked.

“What do you mean? What does her dancing have to do with me working?”

“I know you. As soon as you learn how to do it, you’re going to be out there dancing with her.”

“We could host burlesque events.”

“We’re not having burlesque events at the fucking restaurant,” Saint interrupted sourly. “You can spend your free time twirling around here if you want to, but this is for entertainment purposes only. No one is going to be pole dancing at Cygnet.”

“Such a buzzkill.”

“Someone has to think of the business end of things, and Rush can deny you nothing.”

Rush gaped at him. “I deny him things all the time.”

“You used to be such a hard-ass dominant, but you’ve gotten soft in your old age.”

“You make the girl kneel on some rice, and all of a sudden you’re god’s gift to submissives?”

Leaving them to their smack talk, I made my way over to the pole, delighted despite myself.

As gifts went, this was like the books and the yarn—personal.

Thoughtful. Maybe he’d also gotten it so he could watch me dance, but at least part of it had been his desire to please me.

I’d earned good money at the club, but Noah had always said I was gawky, and had never wanted to see what I could do, let alone visited the club.

Rather than hover, or demand a demonstration, the guys cranked the music and started their warm-ups. I joined them.

Once I was loosened up, I started with some easy stuff, not wanting to fall on my head in front of an audience.

I hadn’t used a pole for months, so I was out of practice.

I peeked over my shoulder a few times to make sure the guys were busy, and gradually regained my confidence, glad I could still do a basic inversion without falling on my head.

He’d bought me floor mats, too, and I appreciated the extra consideration.

I wasn’t familiar with the music they listened to, but the rhythm was good, and I soon found myself dancing as though I hadn’t been away from it for long.

The big T-shirt I was wearing kept getting in my way, so I stripped it off, trusting that my modest sports bra wouldn’t overwhelm any of them with lust. It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen me naked a million times.

When I eventually took a break, I realized they’d stopped ignoring me at some point and were watching with rapt attention.

“You’re good at that, bootlicker,” Saint said grudgingly, shocking the hell out of me.

“Thanks,” I replied, feeling shy at the unexpected praise.

“Don’t get weird about it. It’s not like it’s a useful skill.”

“It paid better than any of my other jobs—barring the resort, of course.”

“Can you show us more?” Rush’s interest was gratifying. He could throw me down and fuck me anytime he pleased, but he wanted to watch me dance, too.

When I’d made the move from serving drinks to dancing, Noah had scoffed, saying no one would pay to watch me because I was cute, not hot.

Despite his prediction, I’d made great tips.

At no point had he ever given a shit about my dancing, even when I would come home excited because I’d learned something cool from one of my co-workers or had nailed something I’d struggled with.

Sure, it had been my job, but I’d also enjoyed working on routines and the athleticism and skill of it.

Looking back, I could see that nothing that had been important to me had been of interest to him, even though I’d listened intently to his video game talk every day.

“Is there anything specific you’d like me to do?” I asked Rush.

“Anything,” he said with an intrigued smile. “Are you wearing underwear under those tiny shorts?”

“She is,” Saint said with a certainty that made me realize he’d checked at some point. The man had a habit of staring at my ass when I wasn’t looking, despite otherwise hating me.

“Are you saying you want my shorts off?” It wasn’t like they were covering much anyway, or I would have slid off the pole and fallen on my head.

I knew Lucky’s answer without asking the question, but I glanced to Saint, who gave a noncommittal shrug.

Even so, he watched carefully as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of my shorts and drew them down.

I had visions of falling on my face as I tried to get the stretchy fabric over my feet, but I managed to make it look almost graceful.

“Hang on,” Rush said, going to the sound system and fiddling with it. “This one.”

A new song started, and I hopped onto the pole and rode it around once, trying to ignore the way they were looking at me, and pretend I was working. This was new territory, though, because I’d never actually been turned on at work.

I made myself concentrate and poured my helpless attraction to them into what I was doing. If I had to suffer, I wanted to make the three of them suffer right along with me.

All three were leaning on the equipment, watching with avid eyes, making me feel hot on top of being horny.

Maybe when I was done, they would have their way with me. Maybe Saint would be so pleased he would allow me to have an orgasm. Hope made my movements even more suggestive, and I could almost feel Lucky salivating.

When the song ended and I dismounted, the urge to make fun of myself or pull a face was almost overwhelming, but I didn’t allow myself to hide behind self-deprecation. I stood beside the pole with my hand on it, chin up, waiting for Saint to mock me.

“Fuuuck me!” Lucky swore. “Damn. Why didn’t I think of buying you a pole sooner?”

“I’m rusty,” I admitted.

“I’m sure one of us would be willing to grease you,” Lucky’s gaze traveled over my body.

“If you grease her, she’ll slide off the pole,” Rush said dryly.

“I’ve got a pole she can slide down.”

They started moving toward me, and I found myself backing away from so much overwhelming male attention.

“Wait!” I blurted, holding my hands out.

“Wait for what? Is there an encore?” Rush teased.

“There are…a lot of you,” I finished lamely.

“Only three,” Saint pointed out helpfully. “It’s not like this is the first time.”

“Yeah, but you joined the situation one at a time. It felt less intimidating that way. Three is a lot, and you’re all bigger than I am.” My palms felt damp, and I wiped them on my bare thighs.