Page 14 of No Longer Mine (Rags & Riches #2)

Chapter Twelve

Scarlett

The sluttier the better. I didn’t get to dress like this anymore.

I didn’t get to shake my ass or lose myself in the music.

I couldn’t risk my image. But tonight was different.

Cleo and I decided that seeing a movie wouldn’t scratch the itch.

We needed more, and what better way to do that than to go to an underground club that had a strict no-camera policy.

You had to turn in your phones before you entered the building and would get them back when you left.

It was perfect for us to cut loose and not worry about being seen or recognized.

One of the other orphanage girls worked there, and we liked to check in on her from time to time. Which meant we threw as many dollar bills at her as humanly possible and made sure she was taken care of.

We loved her.

We took care of our own.

My body thrummed with electricity as we were led through the dark corridors to the inner sanctum of the club.

It brought a feeling of nostalgia rushing back to me.

This was the place we’d conducted our first heist. This was the place that Vivi told us would be good for us.

She stayed here to dance while we went on to continue to con and steal from the rich and famous.

Then we came back to shower her in money and attention.

I shivered as a breeze caught my short skirt.

Cleo was practically skipping beside me.

Her skintight sequin dress shimmered in the dim light.

Any other time, any other place I would have been afraid of all the dark corners and shadows that practically followed us.

But I knew this club like no other. In the early days, we came here almost every weekend. Now it was maybe once a year— if that.

The black double doors swung open, and the scent of cheap perfume, sweat, and smoke hit me all at once. The music crashed into me next, a bass-heavy beat that wrapped around my spine and settled in my bones.

God, it had been too long.

The doors closed behind us, sealing us into the heat and flashing lights.

Cleo was already waving a twenty at the woman spinning effortlessly on the pole in the center of the room, her excitement uncontained.

She practically vibrated with it, her sequin dress shimmering under the dim strobes.

Vivi wasn’t on stage yet, but her number was coming up soon.

I made my way to one of the front tables, my fingers trailing across the edge as I lowered into a chair. The plush velvet pressed against my skin, the deep purple carpet beneath us swallowing up the click of heels, and quiet murmurs of men trying to sweet-talk dancers into their laps.

One of the poles on stage stood empty. The other was occupied by a blonde whose body moved like she owned gravity itself.

I tipped my head back, eyes closed, letting the music settle into my bloodstream. It didn’t take long for the set to change. Megan Thee Stallion.

My favorite. A slow grin curled my lips. My hips twitched to the rhythm before I could stop them, my body already aching to move. I had to keep my cool and stay in my seat for now.

Then Vivi stepped out. I was gone.

Dollar bills rained down around her, flashing green against the stage lights, and when she curled a single finger in my direction, the decision was already made. I was up, my tight curls bouncing as I slipped onto the raised platform.

The heat, the music, the lights?—

I let it all take me.

The first step was easy, my heels clicking against the polished platform as I crossed toward Vivi. She grinned, all teeth and mischief, her toned body glistening under the neon strobes as she pressed her back against the pole and arched. Her dark hair was a curtain over her now bare breasts.

Dollar bills floated around us like confetti.

I moved on instinct, my body swaying with the beat, my hips rolling in slow, precise circles.

The music dictated everything.

I let my hands skim my body, teasing, testing, dragging the rhythm through my spine like liquid heat.

Every movement was slow and dragged out.

I made it look effortless because I knew how to move.

Though I’d never performed for money on this stage didn’t mean I hadn’t learned a few things up here with Vivi and Cleo.

Once upon a time Cleo had shook her ass on this stage too.

We’d been young and broke. It made sense. We were safe here.

Vivi tossed her head back, laughing as she hooked a leg around the pole and spun. She barely left anything to the imagination in her lace panties and stilettos. She looked like a goddess.

I caught the empty pole beside her, my hands curling around the cool metal, letting the energy of the crowd pull me in further.

I climbed, graceful and fluid, stretching my body along the pole before arching backward, my curls spilling down toward the stage.

The audience was a blur beyond the bright lights, but I could feel their eyes on me.

It was intoxicating. I twisted, dropping into a slow spin, my thighs gripping tight, my body becoming weightless for those few seconds.

The drop sent a rush through me. It made my body hurt so good.

I hadn’t worked my muscles like this in so long.

I missed it. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I continued to grind, and Vivi worked the pole.

Her set was almost over, I hoped I helped her bring in more money tonight.

I kept my clothes on, but some nights I itched to let loose completely and get naked with her.

Tonight I decided remaining clothed was best, but it didn’t stop me from twerking and showing off my undies.