He knew he would only be causing an all-out war, one that would ultimately hurt his family in the end. And that thought only reminded him more of how powerless he had become withhis uncle’s return. It was as if a weight was weighing him down, and he couldn’t rise up. It was infuriating.
“She’s beautiful,” Eric said, his eyes dancing with desire as Honey danced around the pole.
“Damn, right, she is,” Sophoklis agreed with a hungry look in his eyes as if he imagined taking Honey to one of the backrooms right now, to have his way with her.
“She’s mine,” Antonis stated, causing everyone to glance at him before their eyes quickly reverted to the performance as if they could not keep their eyes off her for a second. Antonis looked proud, like he had a trophy that no one else could claim, and Nikos wanted to wipe that grin off of his face and tell him that Honey wasn’t his.
She wasn’t a woman to be possessed, but a woman to be loved, and Nikos wanted to give his all to her. He wanted her to be more than a trophy for him to show off to a group of men, who didn’t deserve to be in her presence, let alone breathe her air. He wanted Honey to be his equal.
Nikos took another shot, ready to excuse himself because he didn’t think he could be here any longer. His neck was hot and flush with anger, and he felt like he wouldn’t have control of his fists any longer if he heard one more comment about Honey from any of these men again, but just as he was ready to stand, he noticed Honey’s eyes graze over the crowd.
Since he started working for his uncle, he could only count on one hand how many of Honey’s performances he missed, that was how much he enjoyed seeing her dance. Even the times she thought he hadn’t been there, he had been up on the second floor, watching her performing from his uncle’s office, eyes watching her every move as if he needed to see Honey’s performances to live.
Honey never looked into the crowd, not unless she was looking for James or Roland to get out an unruly customer. It was what gave her that untouchable appearance, as if there were glass around the stage preventing them from engaging with her as if they were all peeping into a hole to watch her, and no matter how much they wanted to make eye contact with her, just by chance even, they couldn’t.
But tonight was different.
Honey’s warm brown eyes grazed over the crowd gently before they landed on him. Nikos felt his breath hitch as her eyes lit up for a brief second when their eyes connected. And from that moment on, it was like no one else was in the room.
It felt like someone had muffled his ears, and the only thing he could see was Honey as she slid into a split, her eyes on him alone as she leaned over teasingly. He didn’t even hear the men’s applause nor see the money rain; all he could see were those damn eyes of hers that almost looked golden now, glinting at him and seducing him. She hiked her hips up and popped her ass, the flaps of her skirt slapping against her skin, and still, her eyes never left his.
All his feelings of powerlessness and inadequacy as a man faded into the background because whether Honey performed on stage or not, she was still his, and she was showing that to him now. That was something no other man could claim. They could look. They could fantasize until they rubbed themselves raw, but only those eyes were for him.
Honey continued, losing her bra along the way as she climbed up the pole before doing an inward spin, elongating her legs in flutters that reminded him of wings flapping before she twirled and dropped down into a split that sent the crowd into hoots and hollers.
“God, what I would give to have her in one of those rooms,” Sophoklis said, but it only sounded like a buzzing noise in Nikos’s ear as he sat there, hard, aching, and wanting.
Honey picked up her bra with grandiose applause following in her wake as she left the stage while Roland came up and collected Honey’s money.
“You have some of the finest women that New York has to offer,” Theo said as he laid a stack on the table, along with most of the men at the table, and Nikos was sure that Honey would leave with more money than she had ever made in a month while working here from the men at this table alone.
“One of the best performances I’ve ever seen,” Sophoklis said, and as the men continued to chat, Nikos let their words turn into background noise as he got up without a word and went through the double doors that led to the back. He saw Honey coming out of the side door that connected to the stage, and she was heading for the dressing room as she tied her bra back on.
Nikos snatched her arm, stopping her from entering the dressing room, and Honey’s eyes widened.
“Nikos, what are you doing here—”
“Shh,” Nikos said as he tugged her along, further to the back, and took them inside the room at the end of the hall. It once used to be a break room for the girls, but after the door had broken, Georgios had never gotten around to getting it fixed, and none of the girls used it any longer, not wanting to get locked in the room. It was also one of the few rooms in the club that didn’t have a camera inside.
“Nik—”
He crushed the rest of her words to his lips as he kissed her deeply. Honey whimpered and those sounds spurred him on as they fell back into the wall.
“Nikos—we can’t—” Honey tried to get out in between their kisses, but Nikos grabbed her hand and pressed it over his hardness. Her eyes widened as if she were shocked that it was there, but Nikos didn’t know how she could be so clueless when she had spent her entire performance seducing him.
“You did this,” he reminded her because he hadn’t grown this hard on his own. All of this was because of her. All of this was because of how much he wanted her. “You have to take responsibility, Ms. Wells.”
“How do you want me to take responsibility?” she asked, her eyes seductive and her tone sly as she rubbed his length through his slacks, soft and slow. His eyes nearly rolled back as Honey worked his fly down before slipping her hand beneath his slacks and grabbing him, rubbing from the base all the way down the shaft before she teased the head, swiping along the precum that had leaked from their kiss.
“Fuck,” Nikos said before crushing his lips against hers again and slipping his hand beneath the flap of her skirt, sliding her panties to the side and slipping his fingers through her wet folds. God, he loved it when she was this wet, drenching his fingers in her desire for him. It felt like home every time, and as if he were a horny teenager, he greedily pumped his fingers inside of her.
“So good,” Honey murmured between their kisses. The room was filled with heat, sweat forming on their skin as they remained huddled together, jerking and pumping, kissing and sucking.
“I wish you were inside of me right now, Nikos,” Honey whispered against his lips. Nikos plunged deeper, wishing hisfingers were his dick, wishing he could give Honey exactly what she deserved from spurring him on and rubbing his cock like no other; her soft skin rubbing with precision and care as if getting him off was doing the same for her as him getting her off was doing to him.
“God, Honey, tha eísai o thánatós mou. Tha eísai i katastrofí mou,” he groaned out in his native tongue.
“God, Honey, you’re going to be the death of me. You’re going to be my ruin.”
