Page 9 of Raine
Flashbacks from last night rob my mind, and I cough. Lust and a touch of embarrassment claw at my chest as I remember the compromising positions I’d found myself in.
“You know what? Forget it, girl. You know where to find me if and when you need me. Go sort yourself out; you’re breaking out in a sweat, Raine,” she quips, and I glower.
And although she’s right again, I don’t have it in me to argue or defend myself. So I do just that: I head to my private room, unlock the draw beside the bed I use when I stay here and pull out my Satisfyer Pro 2.
This thing will have me climaxing in minutes, and after Arrow dicked me down not even ten minutes ago, hopefully my mind will be clear enough to face the evening without any magic powder. Moving to the bed, I lay down and open my legs, flicking my g-string to the side so I can start playing. Within a minute, I’m whimpering as my body jackhammers on the bed from my climax. Here’s hoping that’ll steer me away from the cocaine not even two meters away from me.
Half an hour later, I’m sitting down on the chair at my mirror, checking over my makeup. Sweat drips from my temple, my body heats up, and my fingers shake a little when I bring the glass of vodka to my lips and sip. I fucking love drugs, but the comedown is a bitch. A constant reminder of the powder that made me feel alive but is now making me feel like death warmed up, one I wish I could exorcise from my flesh at this very moment.
After tending to my girls and checking if they’re ready for the evening, I leave them and find myself in our private section, where I fucked Arrow only hours ago. Glancing down through the bulletproof window that shows the entire club, I watch the masked patrons mingling, most of them looking as if they’re flirting. As if that could conceal the vileness and wickedness that encompasses their bodies with those masks. It’s actually quite pathetic when I think of it.
Leaning over the balcony banister, the thick glass helps alleviate some of the noise as I take another sip of my vodka, scowling down at their laughing forms. One woman sidles up to an older guy, her head tips back, chuckling, then she play slaps him on the arm and takes a sip of what looks like a cosmopolitan. Never really liked those drinks. Too fucking girly and sweet for someone like me.
Another sip, and I freeze. A shift in the air has my body breaking out in goosebumps, the energy is charged but I keep my features schooled, my face void of emotions while I stare down at the boring crowd.
“Is there something I can help you with, Acheron?”
He chuckles, and the deep timbre settles in my belly, warming my insides while the alarm blares loudly in my skull.
I hear the click of his shoes as he closes the distance. It’s dull with the music screaming downstairs, but his steps are slow and calculated, sounding almost malevolent, or perhaps that’s only in my mind.
His scent envelops me; the heady cherry gum he chews, smoke, and whiskey wafts around me as he leans on the banister next to me. From the corner of my eye, I peruse him, noticing the suit jacket he’d worn earlier in the evening is long gone, and now all he wears is a deep maroon dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves showcasing his inked forearms. My eyes flick back down to the club.
“Are you mute now?” I retort, seeing he didn’t answer my earlier question, while I try to distract myself from his nearness.
He chuckles again, and there’s a dangerous vibe pulsating from him, one that sings perilously loud to my own shadow self, which is both intoxicating and nerve-racking. There has always been a pull between us, some magnetism, but we are more like rivals than two people who want to hate fuck the shit out of each other.
Something has changed between us, and I’m blaming the night at the Charmed Brothers. Fucking assholes and their potent drugs. That’s it. It was just the drugs. If I were Pinocchio, my nose would be the size of a fucking tree with the lies I’ve been spouting lately.
“You’re extremely tense tonight. Are you ragging?”
My head snaps to the side, fury boiling inside of me.
How dare he!
But when my eyes meet his insanely bright pair, the color of the bluest ocean, my voice stalls and my breath stutters. It’s not as if I haven’t noticed or been affected by Acheron’s hotness, but right now there is something glimmering in his eyes, and it’s making me feel…something.
“Kitty got your tongue, Raine?” He drawls, leaning in a little, and his hot breath kick starts the sassiness that resides deep inside of me.
“Not yet, but maybe later.”
His smirk drops and his eyes darken, but before I can dissect any more, I turn around and walk toward the door. In thirty minutes, I need to be on stage shaking my ass, and I don’t need Acheron as a distraction right now.
But just as I open the door to leave, I feel his intent before he voices it.
“You can run, Raine, but you can’t hide. Those demons you have shoved in the closet — that wardrobe that’s overstuffed — yeah, well, that bitch is at capacity. You know what happens when something gets too full? It lets go; it explodes into pieces. Believe me, I know.”
A shiver races over my body. He’s in my head now, and thanks to him and his vigilance regarding my fucked-up life, I just might need to find my white magician, that beautiful magic powder that’ll numb me for another night.
Chapter5
Raine
Racing down the stairs, I head toward the section where my girls are and my private room. One thing is on my mind, and I know exactly what I need in order to move this night in the right direction. Acheron’s words still ring loudly in my mind, and I fucking hate him for outing me. How has he managed to see my struggle through that over-inflated ego of his?
Whatever. I just need to…forget.
After tapping the code in, I barge through the secret door and then head downstairs to the dancer’s section. I move fast and with intention lacing my steps; my mind and body are consumed with what I’m about to do.
