Page 4 of Dancing with the Devil

“If you don’t have the receipt you’ll have to pay again, I’m sorry,” she apologetically said.

“No, I have it,” I lied, rummaging some more before a hand touched my arm. “I’ll pay.”

My head snapped up and a woman I had never seen before, handed her card to the barista. She ordered coffee for both of us—paid—and I smiled, thanking her as we left with our drinks.

“I don’t have money to pay you back right now—”

“I know,” she grinned, hooking her arm with mine—taking me by complete surprise—and dragged me in the direction she was going. “You can pay me back by visiting this club with me.”

She turned her head to look at me and I paused in thought before hesitantly nodding my head. “But, why?”

She seemed to disappear in her thoughts for a second before speaking. “I, too,accidentallyspilled some coffee on myself once upon a time.”Ah… I see.

“Well, I haven’t seduced a man into buying me a drink in a long time anyway,” I shrugged my shoulders, leaning more into her grip as I sipped my coffee.

“We’resogoing to be best friends,” she laughed, throwing her head back. Her silky long black hair, effortlessly trailed down her back. “I love you already.”

“Nirah,” I smiled.

“Silvia,” she returned the smile and it reached her beautiful hazel eyes.This was going to be interesting…

CHAPTER 1

Nirah

Three Years Later

ESCAPE. RUN. HIDE. Get caught.

It’s like a broken record on repeat in an old abandoned house, where no one is there to turn it off. The house still stands, the lights are on and all else works, except… no one’s home.

No one has been home in a long,longtime.

Loud cheering, music blasting, the scent of alcohol and rich perfume—it was time.

The beat dropped, and my body clung to the pole in sensual desperation. I spun, locking my thighs around the pole as I tossed my head back, leisurely moving my arms and hands.

The low, red, and purple lights accented the room perfectly.

Casa del Pecadowas home to the rich and powerful. The men so wealthy you could transfer thousands out of their bank accounts, and they wouldn’t even notice.

The cold, metal pole burned with my body heat as I used everything inside of me to entice the crowd, luring them to the tip rail.

The regulars were easy to spot. All of them lined the tip rail, tossing bills at me, and my eyes glistened in the dim stage lights.

I trailed my eyes around the club. Our beautiful bartenders, aroused men and my personal favorite, the hundred dollar bills piling below me.

After performing my routine to lustful perfection, I lowered myself down onto my red, eight inch heels.

My sensual gaze locked with one of my regulars as I took slow, deliberate steps towards him. I dragged my hands down my chest, dipping past my stomach, and stopped between my thighs, reaching the edge of the stage.

I tossed my head to the left, allowing my layered hair to pile on my shoulder as I batted my eyelashes at him.

With a deep, uncontrollable grin, he slipped some bills into the strap of my panties. “Just take it,” he pathetically insisted, staring up at me withneed.

I shot him a wink, making my way back as I dragged my hands over the curve of my ass. I wrapped my hand around the pole again, sending the men a seductive finger wave.

“Woo!” Giovanni cheered over the booming music as he cupped his hands on the side of his mouth. “Looking great, baby!”