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Eli’s hand is on my dick before I can push from the wall. I grind my teeth.
“Fucking fighting it left and right, huh?” My hand is on the front of his throat in an instant. I tilt my head to get a better view of his side profile.
I squeeze when his hand dips beneath the waistband of my pants and wraps around my cock. I groan, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, pushing against him. I suck in my breath and whack him away. “Just because I want to fuck the both of you, doesn’t mean I’m going to.”
Then I leave, in possibly the worst mood I’ve ever been in.
The aerials finish their set and the lights dim. Loud catcalls and screams slowly simmer to whispers as I take the steps onto the middle stage. Midnight Mayhem is nothing like Patience, but the chaos and sensual side of the show continues to push me over enough, feeding me endorphins through an IV. “Spiders” from System of a Down starts playing. Neon strobe lights begin flickering as I move my body around to the beat, a hand on the edge of my top hat and my hips riding precisely. I unclip the button of my trench coat and flick it open as the crowd stirs and yells. My silver hair is over my shoulders, a smirk on my mouth as the song continues to pound through the speakers. My eyes connect with the crowd in search of my next victim. Like a mouse caught by the cat, I find him instantly. It’s as though whatever passed through between us earlier was too tangible to ignore. I’ve had to move around what I can and can’t do in Midnight Mayhem, which I thought would be difficult. Finding my stride and place on stage is easy, since I’ve stuck to two things of absolute.
Dark magic.
Sex.
I raise the mic up to my curved mouth. “How is everyone enjoying the show?”
Hollers and catcalls scatter through the air.
“I’ve got to be honest with you all, this is my first show with Midnight Mayhem.”
Clapping sounds out, a couple of prolonged whistles, before someone somewhere screams out, “You’re a favorite!”
I flick the undercarriage of my top hat with my index finger, raising it above my eyes and finding the young man in the crowd. He’s with three friends, they’re young. I would go as far as to say they’re in college. They would be perfect, but I can’t help the magnetic draw that pulls me back to a pair of hazel-colored eyes with enough fire to scar me.
“Before I introduce the next act—” I walk my three-inch heels across the stage. “I’m going to choose someone from the audience to help me. Now I know this is the time that we usually choose ringside, but I’ve never been a big fan of people who demand to be seen the way ringside buyers do. I prefer the men who lurk in dark, dusty corners.” My tongue slides over my swollen bottom lip. “After all, that’s where all the secrets lie.”
I know the exact moment Eli is aware of where I’m going. His eyes narrow but remain on mine. His smile makes me feel at ease. Being around him seems to lessen the intensity of everything else that is going on around me. Almost like he silences out some of my background noise.
My fingers connect to his and my teeth snap over my lip. Almost like a reflex. “Come on, Rebellion… come play with me.”
His eyes are still narrowed suspiciously, but the corner of his lip curls up in challenge as he rises to his feet. The audience is silent now, and I can feel all of their eyes on my every move. The song continues to play until we’re back on the makeshift stage.
I shove him down onto the chair that’s in the middle and lean down so my lips touch his ear. “I’m winging this. I usually do this real cool trick with knives, but since Kyrin has ordered me to not have any sharp objects…” I lean back, just enough for him to watch my eyes lower to his crotch. “I’m going to borrow yours.”
He widens his knees and leans back farther against the chair. “Then take it.”
Desert Rose starts playing as I drop my coat. It pools around my heels as I lean forward and rest my hands on his thighs, spreading them wider. I curl my finger around the back of his neck, straddling his waist and leaning back until my hair brushes the ground, rolling my hips into him. Pulling myself up, I keep my eyes locked on his as I sink my thumb into his mouth. The cameraman runs to the side to get footage as the screen behind us shows a closer detail of what we’re doing. Every now and then I feel his hand touch me gently as I continue to dance on him until the music dies out and the lights shut off. The audience roars and claps over the loud ending of the song, the bass enticing enough to keep me locked in the world of him and me.
