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He parks his car on the street and shuts it off. “We’ll have to walk a few blocks,” he tells me. “Are your feet going to hold up?” He eyes the heels I wear.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t underestimate me.”
He chuckles. “I never do, Princess.”
“Don’t call me that,” I hiss.
He grins. “Does it bother you?”
“Yes,” I say through clenched teeth.
He smiles wider, like the damn Cheshire cat. “All the more reason to call you it.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Do you want me to stab you in the eye with my heel?”
He chuckles and opens the car door. “You’re cute when you’re trying to be threatening.”
I sigh and get out of the car. How is it that guys always think girls are cute when we’re trying to be menacing? Stupidest thing ever. It won’t be so cute when I turn my heels into weapons.
Bennett comes around to my side and takes my hand. “No one’s around,” I tell him, trying to pull my hand from his.
He only holds on tighter and doesn’t say a word. I groan, but let him have his way.
After three blocks or so, I can see the club, the line snaking out the door and wrapping around the building. A large sign on the side of the building declares it as VOLT and behind the name, the sign changes colors every few seconds. I can feel the pulse of the music inside and the people on the streets chatter as they wait.
Bennett completely bypasses the line, heading straight for the bouncer.
“Shouldn’t we wait in line?” I point behind me at the outrageously long line. Like seriously, don’t these people have anything better to do on a Friday night?
“They know me here,” Bennett tells me, flashing a quick smile over his shoulder.
I sigh and mumble, “Of course they do,” under my breath.
He stops in front of the bouncer. “Hey, Toby. Mind letting us in?”
Toby? Such an un-scary name for a guy as large and muscular as he is.
“Go on in,” Toby says in the deepest voice I’ve ever heard. He undoes the rope and lets us pass.
“Ready?” Bennett asks, leading me to the door.
“Yes,” I squeak, when the answer is really no.
He opens the door, and it’s like I’ve been transported to another land. The inside is chaotic, but nicer than I expected. The floors are shiny, almost glittering and not covered in God knows what. The ceiling is a strange crinkly design that looks like foil or something, and it reflects the teal blue lights that strobe the entire place. The bar also glows with the same light. The bartenders run back and forth, taking orders and making them just as fast. The whole middle of the club is full of people dancing, but there are sections branching off of it where people can sit.
“So what’s first on ‘Bennett’s Guide to Being Bad’?” I yell to be heard above the music.
He laughs. “Getting drunk. It’s time for you to experience the glorious world of alcohol, Princess.” He holds tightly to my hand and leads me up a narrow staircase.
“Really? Because it looks like we’re headed away from the bar.”
We reach the top of the stairs and he turns down a hall and opens a door.
The room is open to the club below, but there are dark curtains that can be drawn across if you don’t want to be seen. There’s a large round bed in the center, covered in numerous pillows, and directly in front of the balcony there’s a high-top table with four chairs.
“What is this place?” I ask.
“The VIP section,” he explains, flopping on the bed and making himself at home. “Ah, right on time. Hello, Danicka,” he greets the perky blonde that enters the room with a tray of premade drinks. She looks like she’s melted and poured into her teal dress and her face is covered in way too many layers of makeup—come on, girl, less is more. Her fake blonde hair is curled and hangs down to her butt—clearly extensions, and cheap ones from what I can tell. Her boobs nearly spill out of her dress and those are as fake as her blonde hair.
