Page 21 of Dance of Defiance
When I felt the heat of his body and the throb of his?—
I grimace.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Yeah, there’s no way I can talk to anyone about this. Not even Evie.
Instead, I exhale deeply and try to change my mind’s focus. I glance over at the end table beside the chair and grin as my brows raise.
My my my, Evelina Nikitin…
I snort as I pick up the paperback with the black and white shot of a shirtless hunk on the cover. He's giving a look that either means he wants to fuck you, or else is holding in a fart. Can’t quite tell.
But the book promises “out of control spice”, “CNC dark romance at its finest”—whatever the fuck that means—and has a sticker proudly proclaiming “Best of Booktok” on it.
I grin, trying to come up with the best possible way to let it slip to my sister that I’ve just discovered her taste in romance books, when her phone near the book lights up, catching my attention.
It’s unlocked and open to website that I don’t recognize…or is it an app? The screen blinks again, followed by a soft chime.
I know I shouldn’t. It’s none of my business. But, I mean, prying into your kid sister’s private life iskindaa big brother’s job, right?
For a second, when I pick up the phone, I’m not sure what I’m looking at. The page says “Club Venom” at the top, with a logo of a coiled red viper. Beneath that, two little icons are illuminated, with text next to them.
Member Status: Signed In.
Profile: Active.
I start to scroll down, and my jaw goes tight as a wire.
What the…
For a second, I thought this might be some new dance club or something. But as my eyes scan the page, I realize Club Venom isn’t a bar.
…It's a fuckingsex club.
One that caters in particular to “darker, more taboo kinks” and then lists shit like “BDSM, power-play, impact play, sensory deprivation, bondage, D/s,” and more.
What the fuck are primal play and CNC?
The screen dings again with that little soft chime. My gaze jumps to the top corner of the screen, where there’s now a blinking speech bubble icon and the words “new DM.”
This isreallywhere I should put down the fucking phone, forget everything I saw, and go drink until I can pretend this never happened.
I don’t.
Instead, I click on the DM icon, and a message thread pops up between “HeartofDarkness” and “PrincessBabyxoxo”.
My blood turns to ice as I start to read.
HeartofDarkness
I’m free tonight.
PrincessBabyxoxo
OK. I can be too.
HeartofDarkness
