Page 33 of Pink Poison

A woman sniffles, far too loud to convince me that this is part of some sort of kinky roleplay. "Y-Yes."

A knot twists in my stomach. I’m not oblivious to kinks or what this club offers, but something about this soundswrong.Groaning, I knock my fist against the door. I doubt whoever is on the other side will even let me in, but it doesn’t hurt to check.

“Come in.”

Furrowing my brow, I twist the brassy knob and reveal a dark-lit office. Taking a step forward, the heady scent of sex washes over me. “Sorry to interrupt,” I start when I notice a woman facing me on her knees beside a desk. Tears fall in rivulets down her cheek, dripping from her chin. Rage wraps its claws around my heart as I look into her eyes and see nothing staring back at me. It’s as if she doesn’t even see me standing here.

“Can I help you, Mr. Reid?”

Glancing up, I see none other than Atticus Lennon perched on the ledge of his desk just above the woman on the floor. “Lennon,” I nod. “I didn’t realize this was your office.”

“So it seems,” he drawls monotonously. “What brings you to Le Papillon? Creed seemed pleased with how the meeting went, and I trust his word.”

Well, this just got fucking awkward.

“I escorted a dancer back from Memento,” I explain.

A wicked smile crosses his face, making the man appear more monster than not. “Creed did mention he left without Stevie tonight. It’s a shame, really. He could have gotten more out of her. Though, he has always been more of a voyeur.”

Not that I needed the confirmation when Creed all but jacked himself off at the booth while Mack had his fingers buried in Stevie's cunt. I may not have been there for the full show, but it wasn't difficult to see what he was doing to her even from afar. Shaking the thought off, I grunt, “We all have our preferences.”

“Yes, we do.” He laughs coldly. “Isn’t that right,mon papillon?” His question spurs a semblance of life in the woman, who bows her head to hide her face. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he waves my attention away from her. “Don’t mind her. She’s still learning the ropes ofthislifestyle.”

“Right,” I drag out before throwing a thumb over my shoulder. “I should probably get out of here and let you handle your business.”

The brunette snaps her teary eyes to mine with a look of pleading that breaks my heart. I can’t afford to make waves with Atticus Lennon, no matter how badly I want to help her out of this twisted ass situation. Her bottom lip trembles as I step back, chipping away at my composure. I try to convey my remorse through my stare—but we both know that it won't do any good.

“Do stay awhile,” Atticus charms. “I heard there’s ajoli papillondue on stage any minute.”

Acid burns through my muscles at his casual use of a pet name for Stevie.Papillon. She’ll never be one of his…anything—not if I have anything to say about it.Stevie Waters has too much fight to be locked in a cage and put on display.“I plan on it,” I grunt. Turning on my heel, I break my stare from the woman on the floor and walk back out the door I came in from.

Chapter eleven

Stevie

My heart skips with anticipation as I slam open the women’s locker room doors. The floor was packed full of clients, all eyes glued to the stage as the dancer seamlessly shucked her lingerie off. I thought about Mae’s warning and my initial discomfort of knowing that these people could give in to their desires while I work the stage, but I've found a sense of relief…for now.

The cloying fragrance of perfume assaults my senses as I approach the locker Mae assigned for me. Harsh whispers from a group of women pique my curiosity, convincing me to slow my pace to catch their words.

Mister Lennon seemed keen to have this one.

She’s not even marked.

She looks like a slut. I mean, have you seen her tits? Those can’t be real.

“Which one of you prissy little bitches just called me a slut?” I bark. Turning on my platforms, I face the now silent group. “Come on, don’t be shy now.”

A petite woman with short, auburn hair steps forward with a hand on her bony hip. Her mousy, brown eyes roam over my body before rolling to my face. Her nose scrunches, leaving behind a wrinkle, like she smells something putrid. “Do we have a problem?”

I snort. “Honey, it sure sounds like we do.”

“Listen,honey,” she mocks. “You might think you’re hot shit around here, but to us? You’re nothing. All you’re doing is taking away from us by being here. You should be on the third floor with the other whores who spread their legs.”

Licking my lips, I step forward with my hands clenched at my side. I can’t afford to pull a Teegan right now and beat the hell out of this gnat, but if she calls me a whore again, I don’t think I have it in me to hold back.

It doesn’t sound the same as when Max calls me one.

“You know," my brows lift in disbelief as I purposely check her out again, "I’d be jealous of myself, too, if I looked likethat.” I don’t take pride in knocking down another woman by her appearance, but if she wants to play ball, she needs to know how to catch, not just hit.

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