Page 7 of Wreck Me

It is empowering.

Enthralling.

Addictive.

I understand what Avery meant. The hedonistic draw of being desired. The weight of all those eyes.

The champagne cruising through my veins makes me brave. I flick my wig from my shoulder and let my fingers linger on my collarbone for a second before trailing them across my clavicle and between my slick breasts. Hundred euro notes fly through the air from every direction. Then the music changes. That’s my cue. My slot is almost up.

Time for my party piece.

The grand finale.

I stretch my legs as wide as I can until they’re in the splits position, giving everyone in the audience a direct view of the lace barely sheathing the junction between my thighs as I slide down the pole. Applause sounds like thunder from every direction.

I chance a final glance around the lilac-lit room as my stiletto meets the polished marble.

Those deep brown eyes remain fixated on my body, stoking a fire I have no idea how to put out.

Chapter Five

JAMES

Half the men in here would give their right arm for piece of her.

Who am I kidding?

Every man except Caelon would give both arms for a night with this mysterious stunner.

Hell, I’ve never paid for it in my life but even I’m seriously reconsidering. Which is worrying on so many levels.

This place is renowned for employing beautiful women, but she is something else. And the way she swayed against that pole was like watching poetry in motion.

Where the hell did Christopher Cole find her?

Who is she?

Her eyes snap towards the bottom of the steps, as if someone has called her name. Something sharp twists in my stomach as my focus follows the flimsy scrap of material slick between her granite-sculpted ass cheeks as she exits the stage.

Where’s she going? Who’s she going with? There are more than twenty men already making a beeline for her withfistfuls of cash, and no doubt propositions for private dances. My stomach twists with something unexpected– jealousy.

‘Where are you going?’ Caelon eyes me with surprise, as I rise to my feet, intent on following the woman from the stage.

‘Nowhere.’ I watch as Avery, one of Luxor’s most coveted dancers grabs the new girl’s hand. She drags her away from the main stage, in the direction of the changing rooms and thankfully away from the private rooms spanning in the other direction.

Relief rushes through my blood.

What the actual fuck?

I sink back into the leather. ‘I thought I saw someone I recognised.’ I lift my glass from the table. The whiskey burning my throat has nothing on the flames licking over my skin.

It’s ridiculously hot in here. Did the aircon break? I readjust the collar of my crisp white shirt and slide off my silk tie.

‘Well, if you know that piece of ass, you might give me her number.’ Rian exhales a dramatic breath and gestures towards my dancer.

My dancer.

One shared glance doesn’t make her mine.

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