In the mirrored wall beside us, I watch the performance reflected behind Reese’s silhouette.
“The m-music—” A dancer slowly peels away her corset, jeweled pasties catching the light. “It’s like watching sin made beautiful. Dante, please…”
“Tell me what it makes you want to do.”
“It’s…” She turns. “Pure want.” Her cheeks are flushed. “I want to be up there with them.”
My breath is shallow as I attempt the careful façade of control. “Do it.”
“I don’t know.” Her brown eyes contain multitudes—rebellion, desire, a hint of that competitive spirit I’ve grown to need like oxygen.“Is that even allowed?”
“It’s my club. The choice is all yours, Reese.”
Chapter 32
Reese
“Reese.”Dante’s mouth caresses my name like he’s savoring it.
The piano quickens, each note tumbling through the red-stained club. My shoulders shimmy, feeling the music.
I’m transfixed by the dancers. I want to be up there.
I want to make Dante watch. I want to make everyone watch.
I don’t want to be perfect, choreographed, or directed. I want instinct.
I’m done asking what Robyn would do.
Tonight is about me.What does Reese want?
My feet move before my mind can second-guess.
A dancer reaches for me—leather harness, exposed skin, body humming with invitation. I take her hand and let go.
The dancers spill around me like paint. Fluid, untethered—none of the control I’ve shaped my life around. Their hands brush my skin, and heat blooms. My pulse pounds at my throat, my wrists, behind my knees.
The air has gone thick like molasses, coating my lungs with each labored breath. My thoughts shatter like glass. I’m dissolving, becoming pure sensation—just nerve endings and wanting and the endless, endless ache. The music pulsesthrough me until I can’t tell where rhythm ends and my body begins.
The spotlight shifts, shining on me.
Everyone is looking at me.
He is looking at me.
I feel divine.
I keep moving. My sundress whispers against my thighs. My hair weighs heavy on my neck. A dancer’s hands gently find my waist. I melt back into her touch.
“There you go, darling. Show them how you shine,” comes a whispered encouragement.
Red light transforms me into something wicked, something wanting. My body burns with a hunger that feels like I’ve stepped into my own inferno.
Dante leans forward in his seat, watching me. It feels physical, like hands on my skin.
I can’t look away. Won’t look away. My hips move in slow circles, and I imagine his hands there instead.
The thought makes my thighs clench.
