Page 2 of Damaged Prince
Really? I know we’re in a strip club, but the dancers are human.
A small spark of jealousy and anger sparks with how they’re talking about Elijah. Because that's my man. And the idea of anyone talking about and objectifying him like that, let alone my aunt, makes me fiercely protective.
“Sylvia!” Mom hisses, slapping her sister on her arm as she takes a seat next to Mom. “That is not a man. He is a boy. Aboy who has to be close to Laney’s age for goodness' sake. He’s someone's son. I will not be watching that poor boy up there.”
Oh, Mom, little do you know just how right you are. He is someone's son... your stepson.
It’s a really weird time to feel this, but a burst of pride hits me over her response. I’m happy that my mom has no interest in watching Elijah up there. It’s best for all of us, really, if she doesn’t.
Mom raises her hands, covering her eyes, and I can’t help but snort in amusement.
“Oh, Melissa,” Auntie Sylvia sighs. “Have a little fun.” She hoots and cheers, throwing some dollar bills up on the stage. “Take it off!”
My eyes snap over to Elijah, who’s running his hand down his chest, making the women go wild.
I narrow my eyes at the man on stage.
Do not do it. Do not take it off! Keep it on. Keep all of it on!
Even if what he has on isn’t doing much to hide what he’s packing. And trust me, that man is packing.
“Show us your package!” Auntie Eden shouts. My head swings over in her direction, and I gape at her in horror. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to bring my aunts here? They’re just as bad as the rest of the women in this place.
“Oh god,” Winter whimpers as she sits down next to me. “I can’t watch this.”
Despite what she says, she continues to stare at Elijah, this horrified look in her eyes.
Leaning over, I whisper in her ear. “This is why you didn’t want to come here, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” she squeaks out.
“You knew!” I hiss. Of course, she knew. They’re best friends. Out of all the people in the world, I’m pretty sure this girl knows everything about Elijah. “You knew he worked here?” I’massuming he works here, because why else would he be up there dancing?
“I’m sorry.” She turns to me, eyes full of dread. “I didn’t mean to lie. I didn’t want to. Trust me. But it wasn’t my place to say anything. I was hoping he’d tell you when he was ready. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say he didn’t?”
“Good guess,” I deadpan.
“I’m so sorry, Laney.” Her gaze goes back to the stage as her eyes widen in horror. “Oh god, he’s about to take it off. He’s about to show his dick to your mom and aunts.”
My gut turns as my attention snaps over to see she’s right. The look on Elijah’s face is showing a happy, playful, and sexy smile, but I can see in his eyes as he flicks his attention over to where we’re sitting that he’s nervous as fuck right now. I don’t blame him.
“Why doesn’t he just leave the stage?” I ask Winter, watching as he slips his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, teasing the crowd like he’s about to pull them off. They scream, shouting at him to take it all off.
“I don’t know. I would. I’d be running far, far away.” She groans. “I don’t want to see my best friend’s dick, Laney.” She grabs my shoulders, shaking me. “I’ll never look at him the same!”
I’m not sure if I should laugh or cry. The look of hysteria on her face is almost comical.
Trying my best to think of something on the spot, I turn to my mom. I don’t think I can get all three of them to leave without drawing more attention to the situation, but I know I can save poor Elijah from some embarrassment.
“Mom, can you take Winter out for some air? She’s not feeling very good,” I shout over the music.
Mom looks over at Winter and must see something on her face because hers softens. She nods her head. “Of course.” Shegets up and takes Winter’s hand. “Come on, love. You look like you're going to be sick.”
“You have no idea.” Winter takes her hand eagerly, mouthing ‘thank you’ to me before letting my mom lead her out of the club.
I turn my attention back just in time to watch as Elijah drops his underwear.
Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration; he doesn’t drop them, but he does pull them down over his ass, showing the toned, round muscle to the room and seizing all the air in my lungs.
