Page 8 of Raine

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“Get off me,” I choke.

I feel him hesitate, and just as I feel him lift from my body, I hear a chuckle close by.

“Well, I’m not sure if that was worth it or not.”

I raise my head, my eyes meeting Acheron’s smiling pair. His scar is pulled tight, and I want to wipe the fucking smugness from his every pore. I know I’m in a compromising position. Hell, Arrow’s semi-hard dick is still wrapped in my tight heat, but the way Acheron looks at me, it feels as if ice has glazed over his lapis blue pair.

I wriggle my hips, urging Arrow to slip free, and when he does, I straighten my dress and glare at Acheron. He smirks, his lips tipping up, revealing a sinister yet sexy smile.

Feeling brazen, I straighten and close the distance between us and coo, “I’m sure you liked it, Ach, but I guess you’d have to let peewee down there out to play, and let’s be honest,” I pause, flicking my eyes down to his crotch and back to his blue flaming eyes. “It’s clearly been a while.”

I move, my heels clicking against the timber floorboards, his growl reverberating as I open the door to walk down the stairs. It’s the first time this week I’ve felt alive.

Chapter4

Raine

My body sings, having just exorcised some of its demons, but somehow Acheron’s stare lingers; the hate/lust looming in his eyes have my knees buckling, threatening to fold in.

I’ve never seen Acheron in a romantic way, but lately, he’s…something more, and I’m not sure if that’s showing my craziness or my debauchery. Either way, I don’t like it. Heat slams into me, the smell of human sweat and depravity surrounds me, and I heave in a bated breath as I move through the crowd.

All thoughts of Acheron evaporate, and I smile, standing tall and walking toward the backroom, to where my girls are. Punching in the code to the room, the door opens, and I walk down the stairs and step into the room. I’m met with six women either sitting in front of mirrors or practicing their moves on the poles placed haphazardly around the space.

Her legs spread, I can’t help but take notice of Ginger’s pretty little slit showcasing beneath her see-through g-string or Skye’s tits rubbing between the pole. Those girls are a hoot, and the crowd adores them.

Being bisexual definitely has its pros and cons, right now, cons. All I want to do is find a woman with soft curves and a killer smile to sink my teeth into. I’m an addict, and sex is one of those things that helps me deal with the clusterfuck that is my life, not to mention it feels fucking great, too.

Groaning, I know it’s the frustration from earlier rearing its ugly head, but I can’t for the life of me swallow this shit down and rid the vermin that plagues my mind daily.

Averting my wandering eyes to the back of the room, I saunter over and find Starr applying her makeup like it’s war paint. Her pretty green eyes are rimmed in black, her lips red, the small piercing peeking out from the corner of her mouth.

She’s my favorite out of the girls; her childhood was a pretty fucked one, and even though she grinds on poles for a living, she has the biggest fucking heart known to man.

Her eyes find mine, and she smirks. “Hey, Miss Thang, aren’t you looking mighty fine.”

“I could say the same about you,” I sass, flicking my hair over my shoulder.

She’s wearing an emerald green and black corset, similar to mine, and it hugs her curvy frame beautifully. Her tits spill out the top, but not enough to look slutty, more suggestive than provocative. Her faded, emerald-colored hair frames her face and hangs low down her back. She really is beautiful.

Like the other girls, she will be on stage with me toward the end of the night, circling me when I make myself known to the peasants in the club. Gah. The thought makes my stomach revolt, and Starr doesn’t miss the notion. Her hand pauses mid-brush, and she pins me with a stare that could bring grown men to their knees. To anyone else, it’d be sultry, but I see the concern flicker in her bright green eyes.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine? You know what they say about people who say they’refine?They say,deep down, they are anything but. Spill.”

She’s right, of course, but I won’t give her the sordid details of the debasement and depravity that steals my virtue daily or the need and desire that wedges itself so far under my flesh that I feel it choking me from the inside out. No, I won’t tell her about any of that.

“Just thinking about dancing in front of those freaks tonight is all.”Lies.

“You’re not nervous, so what is it?”

I’m quiet for a minute, seemingly thinking about what I should divulge or not. After a few more tense seconds, I decide on a little white lie.

“I just need a drink. It’s been a fucking day, and I’m tired.”

Starr raises an eyebrow, her hand on her waist, and I know she doesn’t buy it, but I also know she won’t push me. She’s tapping her foot, and I smirk, but it’s wiped off my face when memories resurface from my recent romp.