Lap Dance

Lapdance - Part Two

Alone in your dressing room, you examined the slender dagger amongst the many others you kept stored in various places around the room. You worked with dangerous people, you were a dangerous person and you found under preparation to be a bit inconvenient.
This one happened to be taped under the low marble coffee table, of which you had your feet propped upon. After your performance with J, you'd decided you wanted to be alone for a bit before he sought you out.
You let the dagger relax in your hand as your body melted into the plush sofa. A sheen of sweat covered your entire body, bathing you in a shimmering glow. You were exhausted, your chest still rising and falling unevenly. This, accompanied by the low lights, distant hum of music and impossibly comfortable couch should have been enough to send you to sleep.

You couldn't sleep, though. There was a thrumming deep in your bones. Pulsing, electric waves keeping the flow of your blood company while an animal of adrenaline and excitement prowled in the pit of your stomach. Lower, even.
You knew why, of course. It was him. His body, his face, his lips and hands on your skin as he kissed you all over. The sound of his voice as he growled low in your ear. The very thought of him at times like this sent your stomach reeling and put a wicked grin on your face.
His approach tonight was inevitable, as you were to "pay" for your behaviour.
You laughed to yourself. No, you thought, I won't pay a dime.
Whatever had worked on the many foolish girls J had tossed in the sheets with before didn't even slightly work on you. When you met him, he'd began rebuilding his reputation as the biggest crime lord in all of Gotham, however you'd already acclaimed the title of the most wanted. The problem with you was that you couldn't be caught. You were a shadow, a whisper, a breeze than ran by J's cheek when he and his henchmen tried to break into your manor in the middle of a dead night. You planned for murder that night, you intended to watch with a smile as the life died from his crazy blue eyes at your hands. But when his henchmen littered the floor of the manor's foyer, their blood staining your white rugs while J laughed and clapped, before bowing to you, you'd decided you might keep him. Since then you'd became "partners" and invested in the club. But J was obsessed with domination, being in control to an almost frightening extent. Everyone was inferior to the Clown King. Well, everyone except the Clown Queen.

The click of the lock on your dressing room door pulled you from your reverie, and the dagger you were playing with left your hand in a matter of seconds.
It found a home in the space of wall beside Joker's head, a strand of bright green hair falling down across his face from the breeze the dagger had left in its wake. Though he didn't flinch, you registered the shock and small amount of panic in his eyes before it died and cold, simmering irritation replaced it.
"Knock before you enter," you growled at him.
He laughed and raised his eyebrows as he began walking toward the couch you lounged on, "careful," he said, "in case you're forgetting, dollface," he sneered, "I pay for this room, so I'll enter as I please."
"I make your money for you, Clown Boy. You know they pay for me," you smirked. What you were saying was true, but by the gods, did J hate to hear it. He stomped the last few steps toward you, his hand outstretched and reaching for you. You kicked a foot out to stop, or at the very least slow him, but he grabbed at it and pulled so you slouched further into the plush couch as he towered over you.
You swallowed your yelp of surprise and schooled your features into neutrality.
"Listen, Dollface," he ordered, "I'm getting really tired of your little games," he began to kneel, your leg coming to rest over his shoulder, "you made a fool of me out there," his hands stroked their way up your thighs and came to rest on your waist and he leaned up, your leg stretching between your bodies, "I'm gonna let you off easy tonight," he drawled, and you wondered what his definition of easy was, "because of this beautiful, wonderful surprise." he fiddled with the diamonds on the gold chain of lingerie at your hip. And despite yourself, despite how dominating and arrogant he was being, you couldn't help the flood of warmth that spread throughout your body from where he'd touched.
"It won't. Happen. Again. Understand?" He snapped as he yanked you closer, aware he was causing a small amount of pain in your leg.
You gave no response. The audacity and self authority of this man, while it mostly turned you on, infuriated you like nothing else did.
You always had a few tricks to match it, though, always did something he wouldn't expect, always crossed one, two or a dozen lines between you two and your strange relationship.
You put on a mock submissive face and nodded, "it won't happen again, Mr J." You said, like the good girl you were.
He leaned in and kissed your forehead, and though you knew it wasn't real, though you knew he was trying to ingrain a pretence of kindness into your perception of him, a small, old, dying part of your heart gave a tiny flutter.
He slowly eased himself away from you, releasing your leg as he made to pull you into his lap, clearly not done with you yet.
You crushed that flutter at the same time you grabbed J's wrists and pinned him to the floor.