My jaw clenches tight, every muscle tensed and ready to snap.
She owns that stage, owns every fucking man in this room. Including me, much as I hate to admit it.
My cock is rock hard. I shift again in my seat, trying to adjust myself discreetly. Fucking traitor.
Memories of that night keep flooding back unbidden—her wild eyes, blood-spattered skin, the way she moved like a fucking valkyrie, cutting through those bastards’ dicks like they were nothing.
That was raw power, primal and untamed.
My thoughts get interrupted by the most pig-like shriek I’ve ever heard. I side-eye the fat fuck, disgusted.
“Fuck yeah, baby!” the pig cheers, slamming his empty glass on the table. He’s downing drinks like they’re fucking water, histie hanging loose around his sweaty neck. “Now this is what I call a goddamn fine ass show!”
He’s practically drooling, his eyes bugging out of his skull as he leers at the girls. It’s taking every ounce of my self-control not to slam his fucking face into the table, watch his teeth skitter across the sticky floor like fucking chiclets.
But Ineedthis asshole. Need his connections, his influence. So, I sit there, my jaw clenched so tight I’m surprised my fucking teeth don’t crack, and watch as he waves a wad of cash at the girls, trying to entice them over.
The tiny one—the one with the perky tits and the ass that won’t quit—she’s on him in a second. Crawling across the stage on all fours, her back arched like a fucking cat in heat. The pig is practically panting, shoving bills into her G-string with his fat, greasy fingers.
But my eyes, they’re locked on Wren. She’s dancing like she’s in her own fucking world, like there’s no one else in this shithole club but her. Her body moves like liquid sex, all curves and sin, and fuck me if I can look away.
The piggy fucker is getting bold now, tapping his lap, his legs splayed wide. The tiny girl, she straddles him, grinding down on his fucking micro-dick. He’s bucking up into her, his hands hovering over her ass, not quite touching. Fucking pathetic.
He throws more cash, and the other girl, the one with the fake tits and the dead eyes, joins in. It’s like a fucking live porno, the two of them all over him, moaning and writhing like they’re getting paid to.
Which, fuck, they are.
I’m about to hurl my fucking guts up. The sight, the sounds, it’s too much. I need air; need to get the fuck out of here before I do something stupid.
I stand abruptly, fishing a cigarette out of my jacket pocket with hands that aren’t quite steady.
“Gotta take a piss,” I mutter, not even looking at the pig. “Don’t fucking wait up.”
“Yeah, baby, yeah… Ride my dick,” the pig moans, not even listening.
Suka,I can’t unsee this shit.
My jaw clenches so hard I taste blood. Eyes burning, I suck in a ragged breath that tastes like puke. Every muscle in my body’s coiled tight, ready to snap.
Think I may need to hurl my guts out.
Fuck me, I’d rather watch mybabushkatake a dump than endure another second of this circus.
I need to bail before I do something I’ll regret—like pulverize the pig’s face,or worse, march up there and haul Wren out over my shoulder like a caveman.
6
Wren
The DJ switches tracks. “Pour Some Sugar On Me” blasts through the speakers. Fucking cliché, but whatever. I let the beat sink into my bones as I approach the pole.
I feel some asshole’s eyes burning into me, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking his way. Instead, I wrap my hand around the cool metal and start to move.
My body takes over, muscle memory kicking in. I swing around the pole, letting my legs stretch out. The room spins around me, a blur of dim lights and leering faces. I hook my ankle around the pole, using it to slow my spin.
As I come to a stop, I arch my back, sliding down the pole until I’m in a crouch. The sequins on my bikini catch the light, throwing sparkles across the room. I roll my hips, slow and deliberate, feeling the eyes on me but not really seeing anyone.
I hear these fuckers getting all riled up, howling like dogs in heat. But it’s all the same bullshit noise to me. I know exactly why I’m here, and it ain’t to stroke their egos or their dicks.
