AllFreeNovel
Share Us
None of the women ever impress me the way my blue-eyed butterfly did. None of them make my cock come alive as she did, but it’s okay since I’m not looking for anything physical. They’re just pretty to look at while I drown myself in booze.
It’s been two weeks since we heard from the unknown fucker. There has been radio silence since Rachel and Olivia disappeared from under our noses.
I know the texts will return eventually because the faceless coward is still out there, but for now, I’m taking the time to enjoy the silence.
Well, maybe not too much, considering my mind gets dark when there’s not pure chaos around me.
Tonight is no different than the others. I’m at Sinners again, walking in through the private back entrance reserved for our highest VIP members.
We call it the six-figure entrance, meaning only the members who pay the high six-figure VIP membership fee can use it. It offers more privacy, discreet parking, no lines, and quicker service. Plus, it happens to be the same door I dragged my butterfly through months ago when we decided to kidnap her from the club.
That night changed my life forever. With her on my lap in our SUV, feeling her fear and excitement, I recognized something in her and realized right then and there that I was never going to let her go, and she’d be mine forever.
That night, she became mine.
Now here I am, months later, all alone, willing to trade my soul to go back to that night and feel her against me one more time. Just one more fucking time. That’s all I want, and I don’t believe it’s too much to ask for.
As soon as I enter the VIP entrance, I go to the private bar area, and a bottle of my favorite tequila is placed on the counter in front of me. The bartenders know the deal by now. They’re all familiar with my nightly routine and know I prefer not to speak. I want as minimal contact with anyone as I can. The only person I want to see is my dancer for the night in room six.
Taking my tequila, I carry the bottle toward the entrance to the private rooms, waving off Cecelia, the floor manager, when she tries to speak to me.
She knows the deal by now. I’ve made my demands clear. Room six is to be empty at all times, no matter what, and as soon as I get here and get settled, she is to send in a dancer for as long as I want. She also knows I prefer not to socialize, but that doesn’t stop her from pulling down her shirt to reveal more cleavage, hoping to entice me.
It’s embarrassing, honestly. I’m not interested in her and never will be. There’s only one woman and one pair of fake tits that I’m interested in.
“Mr. King! A moment, please!” she yells to make her voice heard over the music, chasing after me as I walk down the hallway.
With a sigh, I stop and turn to face her, my palms twitching with annoyance and the need for a drink as soon as possible. “What?” I snap, causing her to flinch back, taken aback by my aggressive tone.
“Sorry to bother you, sir. I just wanted to let you know there’s been a change in dancers tonight.”
“Who?” I bark, not okay with the fact they can’t do what the fuck I asked. “Is she on my list?” I have a list of acceptable dancers. That may seem a little ridiculous, but I know who I like, and I’m not willing to accept just anyone. When I first became an active patron at Sinners, I began keeping track of everyone’s names, and whenever I liked someone and wanted to see them again, I gave their name to Cecelia, who ensured that only the women on my approved list would dance for me.
She chews her bottom lip nervously. “Yes, sir. I know you were expecting Amber, but someone else from your list became available, and she requested to dance for you tonight.” It’s not surprising that someone wants to put on a show for me. It wouldn’t be the first time, especially considering they all know how well I tip.
Nodding, I dismiss her, not asking any questions, not interested in inquiring who the dancer is that’s desperate to give me my own private show. I need to open up my bottle as soon as I can, and I don’t have another minute to waste. My palms are sweating with anticipation, and my thirst is so feral that I can practically taste the tequila.
“She’s been on vacation for a while and just returned. I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to see her.”
Rolling my eyes, I dismiss her with a wave of the hand and walk into room six, blinking rapidly until my eyes adjust to the semi-darkness of the room. The only light from the stage is glowing a soft yellow, displaying the stage platform and the pole.
Taking a seat in my usual spot, in the corner of the room on the couch, I open the liquor bottle and take a swig straight from the bottle, not bothering with a glass. A glass would be more work for me anyway.
After a few minutes and a few more gulps of liquor, the lighting changes from yellow to red, and the music begins playing. I instantly recognize the song, and my stomach tightens at the familiarity of the setting.
“Bad Girlfriend” by Theory of a Deadman begins playing as a dark figure walks out of the shadows toward the stage, taking her rightful place. Her back is toward me, and all I can see is her shoulder-length platinum hair since her body is covered by a red silk robe wrapped around her.
Instantly, my interest is piqued for the first time in months. I’ve never been interested in anyone else, and I’m not sure why I am now, but something about the woman’s aura before me demands my attention.
She’s familiar, but I can’t yet place her without seeing her face or body. As the music plays on, she sways her hips to the beat, her hands slowly untying the robe as she shakes her peachy ass.
My traitorous cock stirs in my pants as I watch her, forgetting all about the bottle I still hold in my right hand. She’s holding my attention hostage.
The woman shimmies out of the robe, allowing it to pool around her black stilettos. Seeing her exposed skin causes my breathing to stop.
It’s not her creamy skin that captures me or the dimples at the bottom of her spine. It’s that fucking blue butterfly tattoo on the back of her left shoulder that makes me throw my bottle across the room, causing it to break against the wall with a loud smash.
I’m instantly on my feet, turning the music off and rushing toward the stage, eager to reach out and touch the woman connected to the butterfly tattoo I know all too well.
