But because I am a victim of my own desires, I set the cup down on a nearby side table and step up onto the raised platform. I close my eyes as my hands wrap around the pole, suddenly feeling the same overwhelming feeling of panic I felt earlier in the room next door to us. I shudder a breath, and try to steady myself.
“You’re safe with me, Millie,” I hear Gray say.
Hearing that and believing him, makes the panic melt away. His steady gaze and patient expression remind me again that I’m in control with him. He won’t do anything that I don’t want him to do, and I trust that feeling. With the soft, rhythmic bump of the music in the background guiding me, I step into it and move in such a way that eventually, the room falls away. It’s just me, the music, and my red-eyed vampire.
It’s around two in the morning when I manage to get back to the dressing room for a quick refresh.
I’ve had an extremely good, extremely rare night. Call it luck, or the number of new people who flocked to the bar to get a look at Gray. I heard it in the back rooms in passing that someone streamed him live, doing his tricks and performing with flair. After our private dance, wherein he tipped me everything he had made in an hour, I walked him back to the bar. Trace was more than willing to let him return, which caught Dax’s attention, too.
As I’m rolling out of the back room, coat on and keys clutched in hand, I run right into Dax’s chest.
“Oof!” I stumbled backwards. Dax reaches for me, hands slipping around my waist and back for support. When I’m upright again, he gives me a once over.
“Headed out?” He sounds a little disappointed. I can only assume this has something to do with his many attempts at getting me to come over for another quickie.
“Yeah. Long night,” I say, feeling a little meek.
“Hmm.” He crosses his arms and takes a small step back.“So, Trace says you know that guy behind the bar? Gary or something.”
I almost laugh. “His name is Gray, and he’s a friend.”
“Friend, right,” he says. It sounds a little too smart for my liking, so I square up, mimicking his stance. If he’s jealous, he’ll just have to come out and say it so we can address this like the adults we are. I don’t have the time or the energy for his games.
“Yes,friend. That’s what I said.”
“Friends like us?” he inquires, his shoulders sagging just a little.
“No, Dax. Not like us.” If anything, what Gray does for me is a mercy. Like a nurse taking care of his patient. Still, I feel bad for denying it, but there isn’t a good way to explain what he is without explaining the whole of it. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
“And what if I am?” His arms drop from his chest, and in just one step forward, he’s got me caged in against the wall. One hand dips below my coat, grazing my hip. “What if I’m a little upset you didn’t answer my messages?”
I bite my lip. “I’m sorry about that. It’s been a busy couple of days.”
Normally, this would have my stomach doing wild little flips. But my mind races back to the VIP room, to that intimate moment I shared with Gray. He might only look at me like a human he has to babysit, but that doesn’t mean I see him the same way. There was something raw in that moment, when his eyes were focused solely on the way I moved, that widened the broken dam in my chest. What I saw in those crimson irises wasn’t just lust, but interest and admiration as well.
I know I’m stupid for even thinking about it, but I feel like I might actually be falling for Gray.
“You could make it up to me.” Dax leans in, running his lips a hair away from mine. He smells fantastic, like warm bergamotand rosemary. “Wait upstairs in my bed like a good girl while I lock up down here?”
He kisses me then, but I don’t lean into it. Instead, I do my best to wriggle away and attempt to move his wandering hand from slipping down between my thighs. This isn’t the place to be getting handsy, especially not when one of the girls can walk by. He doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he flips the switch on me and pins my hand to the wall by my head.
“Dax,” I huff, moaning as he ghosts his fingers along the curve of my hip.
“I missed you the last couple of nights,” he whispers against my jaw.
“Dax, stop—”
Someone behind him clears their throat. My whole body jerks, alerted by the sound. Dax retracts with ease, as if there’s no reason to rush his hands away.
“Am I interrupting?” Gray’s voice drifts in low and dangerous. I right myself and peer around Dax’s body. Humiliation washes over me like a cold shower in the middle of a snowstorm. Two seconds too late and this could have looked a lot worse.
“Not at all,” Dax says, unbothered. “We were just talking.”
I know for a fact Gray doesn’t believe a word of that bullshit, but he doesn’t argue the point. Instead, he looks at me and smiles. “Ready to go then, sweet cheeks?”
Dax bristles. “Go? Where are you going?”
“A party.” I finally speak up, adding more to the conversation than just wide-eyed spectating. With a little twist and dip, I move around Dax to stand beside Gray. Within reach, he wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. I know before I even see it on his face that it pisses Dax off.
