Page 144 of The First Taste

And everything slides off kilter, suddenly. My timing is off; my feet don’t seem to land in the place that they should. My legs are heavy, my arms near useless.

By the time I finish my solo, I can feel tears brimming in my eyes. I still turn and curtsy to signal that I am done. And there is a scattered bit of applause. I look toward Basil, my heart thundering in my ears.

He looks at me, his mouth twisting like he just ate something bitter. “Your ending could really use some work, honey.”

My heart wrenches. The sob that has been barely contained in my chest flows up and out of my throat.

I crumple, turning and running offstage.

I finally had my big chance… and I fucking blew it. Openly sobbing, I run away from the stage, pointe shoes and all.

Calum

Iclimb out of my limousine on a busy street, pulling my coat closer and blinking into the blinding streetlight. Night has fallen and the city is teeming with the late night crowd, especially this part of Hell’s Kitchen. There are a lot of bars, strip clubs, and massage parlors right around here.

I round the corner, heading into a dark alley. Music throbs as I jog down a few steps that lead to the entrance of Club X. A bouncer sits by the club’s heavy front door, his sharp gaze taking me in. I’ve shifted to a black hoodie, black leather jacket, and black jeans, There is no trace to indicate my wealth or status.

Then again, I suspect he’s used to seeing that, working the door here.

“Password?” he asks.

I stare him down. “Apricot.”

He slides off his stool and rolls the door aside. Music pours out of the doorway. As I step through into the hallway, the floor glows faintly, leading me back into the depths of the club.

Rap music grows louder and louder until I’m awash in it. I turn the corner and see the main floor of the club: the black tables sprinkled here and there, the sleek black bar, the center stage and pole, a naked redhead grinding on it.

I look around, my gaze landing on one of the managers lounging at the bar. As I stalk over to him, he straightens up, his eyes widening just a bit. He sniffs several times. Between that and his pupils as dilated as dinner plates, something tells me that he’s on a shit ton of coke.

“Cerise,” I bark at him.

He starts. “What?”

I step closer to him, folding my arms across my chest. “Cerise. Where the fuck is she?”

His adam’s apple works convulsively in his throat. “In the back, man.” He looks at me, glassy eyed. “Are you going to cause me a problem tonight?”

Ignoring his question, I reach inside my leather jacket, pulling out a fat wad of hundred dollar bills. I roll a few off, slapping them down on the bar. “I want to see her in the Platinum Room in two minutes. Got it?”

He snatches up the cash, squinting around the room. “I’ll go get her for you.”

I’m already walking away, headed for the staircase. My heart is pumping overtime.

I didn’t actually think that it would be so easy to find her. I haven’t actually planned what I’m going to say to her.

Running up the last couple of stairs, I push the door open to the Platinum Room. The black leather booths and the shiny bronze stripper pole beckon. As I take my customary seat, I try to quell my excitement.

Everything that I want is within my grasp. All I have to do is play my cards just right.

I see the flash of ash blonde first. Then her hazel eyes and her pouty mouth. Her whole body comes into view, wearing a black string bikini and platform stripper heels.

Her expression is just short of open rebellion. That little bit of fire actually gets me going as much as her tits or her ass.

I like that she thinks she can actually fight back against me. That makes my cock hard.

She reaches out to flick a button at the door and then eases it shut. Her music starts playing a woman singing in sultry voice over hip hop music.

Cerise walks straight up to me, folding her arms across her chest. “What are you doing here, Calum?”