Page 15 of Wrecked By a Devil

Cain received a call earlier from some guy claiming he has information about the disappearances. I don’t know if this man is telling the truth, but I’m hopeful that meeting him later will finally give us a clue.

“I’m done,” Riley’s voice snaps me from my thoughts.

We head to my office, neither of us saying a word on the way there.

“This is…” She immediately shuts up when we pass through the corridor where we first met. The place where I kept her pinned against the wall.

“It’s a shortcut to my office,” I smirk, realizing how nervous she is. “Only my brothers and I are allowed to use it.”

“Oh…” She looks away, avoiding eye contact. “That makes sense.”

“Does it?”

I notice her blushing in the low light. She holds onto the strap of her bag a little tighter, as if she’s getting ready to bolt if needed. Or maybe take it out of the way so she can kick me in the balls without the bag getting in the way.

“Take a seat,” I make myself comfortable in my chair, watching her hesitate before she seats across from me.

“Did I do something wrong?” She doesn’t break eye contact this time.

“You tell me, Riley,” I lean in, crossing my fingers with both my elbows on the table. “Do you know what your job here is?”

“Being an…” She blinks, confused. “Exotic dancer.”

“Let’s not mince words, Riley. You’re a stripper,” I continue. “And what does a stripper do?”

“She strips…” For a moment she just stares at me and then she snaps. “What ridiculous game is this?”

“I should be asking you that. Why were you dressed like that during rehearsal?”

“So that’s what this is all about?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, the rehearsal is meant for you to get comfortable with the routine you’re going to perform in front of our customers,” I slide on my chair to the big TV screen in the corner and turn on the security cameras. “Everyone else is in costume, except for you. That makes me wonder if you are comfortable undressing.”

Riley just stands there watching the security footage with a serious look on her face. Then she tilts her head at one of her moves around the pole.

“It was just practice,” she finally speaks again. “I was told it wasn’t necessary to strip in practice.”

“True enough,” I turn off the security footage and return my focus to her. “But do you have a problem with stripping?”

“No,” she responds immediately. “I wouldn’t be here if I did.”

“In that case,” I get up and circle around the desk, dimming the lights in my office. “Show me what a real show would look like.”

“What?” The shock on her face is entertaining.

“You heard me,” I drop my body on the sofa, both hands stretched across the back. “Pretend I’m a client and show me what a real show looks like.”

Riley arches an eyebrow. “A client?” She takes a deliberate step toward the sofa, leaning in just enough to look down at me. “If you wanted a private audition, you could have just asked.”

My jaw tightens, a mix of irritation and dark amusement spreading through me.

“Just dance, Riley.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” She murmurs with a smirk as she gets up, getting her phone from the purse. A heartbeat later, the same sensual song she danced to during the audition starts playing.

With her back turned to me, she slowly starts swinging her body to the music. I recognize that same trance I saw earlier when she becomes one with the song.

She turns around to face me, slowly pulling her shirt up as she’s approaching me. Before she takes it off completely, she drops it as if she had changed her mind in the middle of the stripping, but she continues swaying her hips. One of her hands gently brushes the armrest of the sofa, teasing me just enough before her attention returns to the shirt.