Page 33

“Yes, you can, and you are. Come on, Gabs. We’ve been doing this for a couple of years together. Just dance for a few minutes and then leave.”

Fear floods my body, and my heart rate picks up, alerting me to danger. No, I can’t do this. Dancing on stage is one thing, but privately, that’s another.

“Luna, please, I can’t be alone in there. What if he tries something, or…”

“Hey,” she says, gripping my shoulders and staring me dead in the eyes, “there are cameras in the room. The clients know the rules—no touching unless you initiate it. Besides, if you feel uncomfortable and want to end the dance, hold two fingers up to the camera above the door or hit the button on the wall, and security will be in, okay?”

I mull over her words and nod slowly. Yes, I can do this. I promised myself I’d come out of my comfort zone, which is why I walked into the crowd in the first place. I’m safe, and I don’t even need to go near him. Yes, I can do this.

“Okay, show me the room.”

Luna walks me to a room with a gold number seven in the center of the black door, turns the handle and opens it. I step inside and with each step I take, my heels clatter against the shimmery, hard floor.

A singular chair sits at one end of the space and at the other end of the room is a pole like the ones on stage.

“So, how does this work?” I say, clawing my wrist with my nails, making my skin sting.

God, I am nervous.

“You’ll be in here waiting. You can face away to start with if that will make you feel more comfortable. That’s what I do. Hewill take a seat, the lights will go down, and the music will start. You dance, and it’s up to you if you want to go closer to him and give more of a lap dance or stay near the pole.”

I nod.

Luna takes my hands and gives them a squeeze. “You are in control here. You have all the power in this room, not him.”

“Okay…” I say, my words barely a whisper.

“Relax and enjoy. I’m going to be next door. I’ll see you after.” She wraps her arms around me and squeezes me till it’s hard to breathe.

“Good luck. You’ve got a few minutes before they let him in,” she says, releasing me before she heads out of the room.

My legs feel like jelly as I make my way over to the pole and grip it with a shaky hand, turning around so my back is to the waiting chair.

I tap my nails against the pole, counting to ten in my head to calm my erratic breathing. The click of a door opening makes me flinch, and footsteps enter the room.

He’s here.

My natural instincts is to turn around and get a look at him, to say hello or try and get a sense of what he might like or ask him why he chose me. But I remain in position, hand gripping the pole and one leg slightly bent, ready to twirl around the pole.

The chair creaks as he takes his seat and then silence. My heart beats so loudly I’m sure he must hear it, and my breathing is no quieter. I close my mouth, releasing a slow, calming breath and as I do, the lights turn down to a low silver hue, casting a shadow of myself on the wall in front of me.

The songDirty Dianablasts from the speakers, taking me by surprise, and my mouth quirks up in a smile. I know Luna had something to do with my song choice. Diana is my club name, and it seems pretty fitting.

I take hold and walk round the pole, keeping my gaze fixed on the floor. When I do a full rotation, I lift my head slightly, letting me catch sight of his black boots and dark jeans. For just a second, I question if I recognize the boots.

Thousands of men have these boots, Gabriella.

Luna’s earlier words about me having all the power ring in my ears and it gives me the confidence to move away from the pole and glide over toward the waiting man in the shadows.

Feeling brave, I rotate my neck, flicking my hair as I do, then placing my hands over my pubic bone and slowly smooth them up my body, all the way up my neck, pushing my hands into my hair. Adrenaline pumps through my body and I know I could get addicted to this high. I take two steps forward and just as more of him comes into view and I’m almost in front of him I turn away from him, leaving my ass in full view, my leotard having ridden right into the crack of my cheeks.

Deciding to embrace it, I move back till I feel my heels hit the front of his boots and rotate and grind my ass down into his lap, hovering just enough to make contact, but not so I am fully seated. A low growl sound comes from him and it spurs me on. I once again repeat the movement, but this time I brace my hands on his thighs. They are thick and hard and my hands tingle. My alter ego takes over and I widen my stance so I am straddling his lap, but still I have my back to him.

My eyes widen when I feel his growing erection between my ass cheeks. I don’t know if this is pushing the boundaries of what’s acceptable in here. I should stop, I should step away, but it gives me a twisted thrill knowing I am making this man feel this way. That me, and only me, is having this effect on him.

I continue my torture, and my body freezes when large hands grip my waist. That should be my limit. But it isn’t. His strong hands sear into my skin, and I decide I want a glimpse of my mystery man. I rise to my feet. He must sense what I’m about todo because he lifts me from his lap and spins me so I face him. A little squeal escapes my lips, and my feet falter. I close my eyes, reaching out to grip the man’s shoulders to steady myself. On an exhale, my eyes spring open and meet dark, whiskey eyes I’d recognize anywhere.

Chapter Sixteen