Page 61 of H E R

“I’m only yours, Niki.”

He folds the card in half, bends it back, and it cracks easily in his hands. He folds it until there are six metal pieces on his palm and then he sprinkles them over the plush carpet at our feet. His hand seizes the back of my neck and his lips collide with mine.

I open his jacket and fling the sides open and hungrily glide my hands over his torso and around him. I press my palms onto his back and crush him closer. Our masks collide and slide over our faces. It’s a desperate and hungry kiss. As if our lips will feed our starving souls and bring them back to life.

He slows and kisses my lips gently before taking my bottom lip between his teeth. He pulls at it softly and then licks the tiny indentations before sucking them. “Y tu eres mia.” And you are mine. “I’ll be watching, fox.”

He lets go and disappears down the hall. He isn’t heading back to the club, and I watch his silhouette disappear. Just one fucking kiss and I’m smiling like a damn idiot alone in a dark hallway.

Did that even just happen?I look down to the scattered metal pieces of Miss Rabbit’s blue fuck-me card and smile big. Yes, it happened.

Is he really going to be watching?I snort out loud.Whatever.

I adjust my mask and turn the gold knob to let myself in. I helped Jasmin stock the mini fridges in all the rooms, so I know my way around. It’s a fair-sized circular room, definitely bigger than the inside of my trailer, with two exits. Leather couches circle around the center where there’s a stage and a silver pole. The walls are lined with a deep blue velvet and red, elegant strip lights line the floorboards.

The stocked mini fridge is to the left, and a bluetooth stereo sits on a black table. The silver fox chose his music, and it plays over the room’s built-in, unseen speakers. He sits directly across from me in a gray leather lounge chair with a bottle of scotch in hand. The second door is directly behind him.

He points to a small bar to my right where there’s a sealed bottle of Patron x Guillermo Del Toro, a copper-colored brew, and an empty shot glass waiting for me. I step toward it, pop off the ornate topper, and serve myself a shot and slowly toss it back.

Fuck, that’s some good tequila.

“You’re fucking exquisite.”

I go down two steps and walk to the pole. I’m surprised by his playlist. A track byLady Gaga—Love Game—is playing.

Interesting choice, I guess.

Whatever, this private dance will put three grand in my pocket. He’s spending a pretty penny for a mere strip. He could’ve watched me dancing in a cage with barely any clothes on.

Behind him, dark irises are brooding from across the room, and I struggle not to roll my eyes. As promised, Dylan stands motionless, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

I focus on the song’s lyrics and stare straight into the darkness, right into Dylan’s eyes, and I allow them to drag me into their depths. I unzip the corset. Underneath is a matching lacebra; the elegant pattern covers my nipples but reveals the creamy skin of my large breasts. Dylan smiles and I toss the girdle to the ground, then grip the pole and twirl, pushing off my feet and circling twice before landing on my toes. My hips gyrate to the beat, and I flip my head so that my hair falls to one side. I circle my waist and lean my ass on the pole, then drop to my knees.

My eyes stay on Dylan, and I dedicate each move to him.

The beat changes and I realize it’s a mix curated by the club and not a selection made by the man I’m not even looking at. It’s one byRihanna—Where Have You Been—and I smile at the man standing in the dark, watching me.

I use the pole and balance my body on it and twirl. Then I lower myself to my shins and arch my spine like a cat. I whip my hair and lean back. The song changes again, and I shimmy the skirt off my hips and kick it to the ground. I turn and touch my toes, only the thin string of my thong between my ass cheeks separating my goods from the two men eating me alive.

I straighten my spine slowly and twirl on the pole again.

I unclasp my bra, and with one hand, I hang on to the pole and lean my body out as if I’m going to fall, then I toss the bra at my guests’ feet. I hold my breasts with one arm and turn.

Dylan’s smile falls when the man stands and approaches me. I freeze as he climbs the steps up to stand before me on the small stage. He pushes my hair back gently, the movement allowing two of his fingers to graze my collarbone, and my skin turns to ice.

Dylan’s shadow moves on us and he whacks the silver fox on the side of the head with his gun. How the fuck did he manage to get that in here? The man collapses to the ground and Dylan points it at his limp body.

“Wait,” I shout and run to move his arm away. “Don’t fucking shoot him.”

One of his eyebrows arches. “I warned you, fox. He touched you.”

I breathe in deep and exhale hard. “Hebarelytouched me! Youcan’tkill him.”

He sighs, exasperated, but relents and puts his pistol wherever the fuck he was hiding it, somewhere behind him. Then he lowers himself and easily carries the man up and sits him on the lounge chair like a rag doll. He grabs the bottle of scotch and places it between the man’s legs.

He turns slowly and sweeps his gaze hungrily over me. I’m suddenly very conscious of the fact that I’m naked except for a thin lace thong and my heels.Love on the Brainstarts playing and Dylan smirks as he stalks toward me.

He takes his mask off and then pushes mine back until it falls at our feet. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his torso.

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