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She flips around. Okay, this will do it—at least I won’t have to see her face. She shakes her round arse, twerking on me, then grabs my hands and makes me run them over her hips.
“Is everything okay?” she asks nervously.
My cock hasn’t even twitched. It’s shrivelled up like a deflated balloon exposed to negative temperatures.
“Everything’s fine,” I growl. “I’m paying you to dance, so fucking dance.”
She climbs off and drops to her knees. Her talons are three inches long; she slides them up my legs and digs into my thighs. I usually have no issue with my hardware, but my cock stays lifeless.
“Do you want me to do something else?” she asks, eyeing my crotch. What’s happening? I can fuck anyone anytime! “What do you like?”
What I like are redheaded serial killers with snarky mouths.
Thinking of Rose makes my dick stir instantly. I picture spanking her round arse bent over my bike and seeing my pink handprint against the paleness of her skin.
I clear my throat and stand up. “I think I’m done here.”
“But I can do whatever you like,” she whines, reeking of desperation. She could stuff my cock and balls into her arsehole, but it wouldn’t change anything. She can’t shapeshift into someone else. She isn’t Rose. “I’m down for anything. All you have to do is tell me what you want.”
“I want you to get out of my way,” I snarl.
She jumps back as I tear open the curtain and march away.
“He didn’t pay!” Missy shrieks like a banshee, almost shattering my eardrums.
I spin. “I’m not paying for something I don’t see any value in.” My lip curls, looking her up and down. “You’re lucky to have got twenty quid.”
The security guard, lying in wait like a hungry dragon protecting its treasure, launches into action. He doesn’t scare me. If he thinks he’ll beat me into paying this whore any more money, he’s mistaken.
I ready myself for a fight and throw myself in first. The guard swings, but he’s not skilled or trained, relying purely on his size to propel him forward. I dodge his advances and retaliate, punching him hard in the jaw. He drops like a sack of spuds, and I jump on top of him.
Crack!
His nose breaks under my fist.
Smash!
I dislodge a few teeth. He splutters and coughs them up, spraying me with blood.
“Stop!” Missy yells. She climbs onto my back, trying to pull me off him and clinging on like I’m a Bucking Bronco.
The doors to the other booths fly open. There’s a flurry of zipping trousers as other dancers rush to protect him. The gaggle of bitches scratch and claw at my cheeks and shoulders, but it doesn’t bother me.
The guard loses consciousness.
“You’re going to kill him!” Missy wails, but I’m too far gone. I’ve seen red. “We’ve called the police!”
A run-in with the coppers would scupper my plans. I stop, throwing Missy off my back, and rise to my feet. The other girls press their backs against the wall in fear. None of them dare to say any more.
I spit at my feet.
“I won’t be back,” I hiss.
What the hell has Rose turned me into?
CHAPTER11
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