My hands touch the stage, and I push off, doing a slow-motion handstand before dropping directly in front of the shit starters. I’m only a few inches away. Close enough to see Alistair’s fangs digging into his bottom lip and the subtle differences between the black of Ciprian’s pupils and the black of his irises.
Rolling onto my back, I use my wings to rake the cash to the sides, thrusting and rolling my hips and tits in time to the beat. An angel, spread out like a sacrifice for a vampire and demon’s dark enjoyment. Even I think it’s hot.
Gone are the cocky grins I spotted from the top of the pole. Alistair’s eyes burn pure red, flitting wildly between my neck, tits, and lips. The frantic indecision over where he wants to look most is cute. Ciprian freezes. He doesn’t blink or breathe as he watches me, his gaze caressing my skin as if he doesn’t want to miss a second of what I’m doing.
I finish in a backbend, panting under the stage lights as the song fades into my longer transition track.Good call.It’s going to take some time to collect all this cash. I rake it up as gracefully as I can, smiling when wisps of Brandy’s green magic shoot out to help me, curling subtly out from behind the curtain leading off stage.
Stack in hand, I wink at the two troublemakers, collect my top, then walk off the stage. After tying the fabric back in place, I deal with the good-natured teasing from the other girls in the dressing room, tuck the cash in my locker, and head to the bar for my post-dance ritual.
Luca hands me a water bottle, the right corner of his mouth curling into a devilish smirk. “I told you,” he says, his gaze dipping briefly to my chest. “The most perfect tits out there. Now, two guys arehappily broke.”
I laugh, my wings fluttering happily behind me. After the stress of finding the kid in the alley, I needed to let loose and regain some control. Dancing isn’t for everyone, but I love the rush, and the outlet it gives me to release all the things life forces me to bottle up.
“I just did that,” I say, a little surprised that I broke one of my guidelines on a whim.
Luca chuckles. “Yeah, you did. They’re going to rub themselves raw for years thinking about that dance.”
“Gross.” I snort, glancing over at Ciprian and Alistair. They’re still sitting side by side. Talking nonstop, they’re completely ignoring Imani’s performance. I frown, about to get pissed off, until I realize they’ve both continued to tip even though they aren’t watching.
“This is strange, right?” I ask Luca, pointing to the unholy pairing. “What’s your take on it?”
Luca shrugs, polishing a glass absentmindedly. “I think it’s going to get messy, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.” He smiles at me, like it’s a foregone conclusion that we’ll deal with it together, and my heart skips a beat. Wandering to the dressing room, I let him get back to work, wondering if he’s right. Not about the mess, but if we can handle it.
Unnaturally sharp teeth graze my skin. Blood pumps hot and fast through my veins, and my heart pounds as arousal hums low in my belly.
I’m dancing on stage, lying on my back, writhing in front of Alistair and Ciprian, but there’s no one else around this time. And they’re making the most of it.
Ciprian kisses my ankle, his pouty lips tracing a tantalizingpath up my leg. Alistair latches onto my neck, his touch wild, rough, and barely short of painful.
Instead of shoving them both off, I spread my legs, giving Ciprian room to crawl between them. He groans into my thigh, then nuzzles the soft skin there almost tenderly. It’s not what I want, so I bury my fingers in his platinum hair. It’s as soft as silk, and I could play with it for hours if I didn’t have a different goal in mind. Determined, I yank on the strands, forcing his head where I want it.
Ciprian grins against the damp fabric of my panties. “Patience, Celine.”
Alistair’s fangs scrape against my neck, the pressure just short of breaking the skin, and I gasp. “Pay attention to me,” he purrs before devouring my mouth.
His lips are distracting—exactly as he intended them to be—but Ciprian isn’t going down without a fight; he’s just going down on me. I grin as determined fingers slide my thong to the side, then a tongue grazes my clit.
“Delicious,” Ciprian says. His lips and tongue form the words against my bare pussy, and it makes me shudder. “You can have this whenever you want. All you have to do is ask.”
I’m getting it right now, so why would I need to ask? Alistair’s lips make me forget, tormenting my neck until I’m practically bucking off the stage, desperate to get closer.
“Are you going to bite me or not?” I demand, like that’s not a reckless, dangerous thing to ask. Alistair is notorious for using his bite to punish, not to please. Do I have that much trust in him?
His fangs pierce the thin skin above my right breast. There’s a sharp sting, which is quickly replaced by an overwhelming number of sensations. It’s as if my entire body is experiencing euphoria at the same time, every nerve ending singing with pleasure.
I scream, my muscles contracting then relaxing as the motherof all orgasms tears through me. My body arches, the mirror image of my dance for them at the club, except wait... Aren’t we at the club? How did I end up in my bed?
Reality slowly penetrates the fog of my brain as the familiar surroundings of my apartment come into focus. I blink groggily as the sun peeks around my curtains. The aftershocks of my orgasm send another tingle through my body, and I stretch, relieved and disappointed to find myself alone in my room.
My body is relaxed. I toss the covers back, glancing at my chest to confirm that it was all a dirty dream and not an actual threesome with two guys I have no business letting into my bed.
I could be mad at my subconscious, but that sounds like a waste of time to me. If dreaming about Alistair and Ciprian can get me off, I’m getting the benefits without any risks. I’ll subscribe to these dreams anytime; just show me where to sign.
Grinning, I glance at the clock and see it’s a little after noon. I’m off today, and so is Luca. We have plans to go check on the orphans and make sure they’re settling in. Harry has it under control, but I don’t want them to feel abandoned by the only adult angel in the Fringes. I also want to ask a few more questions, maybe jog their nonexistent memories of traveling here.
I scratch my arm gently, trying to banish the itch. It doesn’t work. Until I know why someone is dropping angels around my neighborhood, I’m going to be on edge. I covered my tracks, so there’s no way?—
A knock, if you can call it that, interrupts me mid-thought. Two lazy thumps, like the person doing the knocking is only half awake at best.
