Walking into the club was like falling down a rabbit hole and landing between the black and silver damask walls of some kind of extravagant circus. And though I could tell that it was so farfrom that, I couldn’t help but notice how it harbored some of its playful characteristics.
My eyes locked on the tall ceiling. It wasn’t pitched, yet it was painted to give you the illusion that it was. The deep shades of cherry red and silver stripes were highlighted perfectly by the black strings of bulbed lights, offering a heightened, sensual glow that lingered brightly above our heads.
“Well, fuck. I wasn’t expecting this,” Ty says, spinning around, his mouth agape like the rest of us.
The same shade of cherry covers tufted suede couches and curved sectionals with silver claw feet and scattered heart-shaped ottomans. Low black glossy tables accompany the array of antique furniture.
I flick my eyes toward the long white bar, the front panels lit up by the same red fluorescents that lined the entry stairs, showcasing the barbed cherry logo etched into each panel perfectly.
It’s something else. It’s mesmerizing, fucking perfect,like her.
“Look who it is.” Some guy pulls my attention away from the carved cherries. He’s tall, muscles bursting out of his fancy fucking shirt. The curls on his head are like mine, only much darker. He is drying what looks like a crystal decanter with a towel, smile wide when he jerks his head toward Tyler. “Big, bad Tyler,” he starts to say, and I can barely hear him around the music and voices of the vibrant, buzzing room. He places down what’s in his hands and pushes both palms into the chrome countertop, his eyes moving along the line of us slowly. He stops at me and gives me a once-over before he shoves around the counter and claps hands with Tyler, then he pulls Cameryn in for a quick hug.
He points to the front of the stage. “Take a seat in the front. She saved it for you. I’ll bring some drinks over.”
“Thanks, man,” Ty replies, then we’re threading ourselves through the sea of people and scattered furniture.
I decide I don’t really like the guy, and it’s probably just because he’s spent more time with Cherry than I have.
I’m a jealous cunt, what can I say.
Voices of speculation whisper past our ears like they always do as we move together.
“That’s Chasing the Storm.”
“Harmony Davis.”
“I have to try to get a picture with them.”
It’s the same old bullshit, and it’s not that I don’t like getting noticed. I do love it, as it feeds my already too-big ego, but tonight is a little different.
Tonight holds the possibility of a reconciliation I never thought I’d get.
We spread ourselves out among the suede couches right at the front of the stage, and I tilt my head back when I notice the glinting mirror directly above. It lines the ceiling, catching the sparkle from the speckles of glitter painted into the midnight black stage. The guy with the dark curls—I think Tyler says his name was Caleb—brings us trays of drinks, and when we have sunk almost half, the entire room cuts into velvety darkness. “Do you really want to hurt me” by Nessa Barrett filters through the room with intention.
I lean forward, placing my elbows on my knees and pushing both of my thumbs to my bottom lip. Smoke infiltrates the stage, giving the illusion of a low, chilling fog, and I find myself sucking back a deep breath when my heart thrums a little faster. Chase nudges me with his knee, and when I peer to my side, I catch him grinning over the expensive glass of whiskey at his mouth.
“You’re so fucked.” He mouths the same words he said to me the night at Wes’s bar, and I chuckle lightly under my breath.
Tell me about it.
Cameryn’s voice has me cutting my eager gaze back to the stage when she yells, “Yes, Cherry!”
The whole room is an explosion of whistles and claps. As my eyes land at the center, all I see isher,crawling in the warm spotlight…toward me.
Her blue eyes are hard and focused. Full red lips part slightly, matching the cherry-red pointe shoes tied tightly around her ankles. She curls the tip of her tongue over her pearly whites seductively, sliding it over them slowly.
A mesh bodysuit ladders up her legs but doesn't finish at her waist. Instead it crawls over her arms and just above her tits, forming over a black bra like an off-the-shoulder top would. Her nipples are covered by what looks like a buckled belt strapped around her small breasts, and she has a pair of laced-up leather hot pants suctioned to her curves.
I can’t fucking breathe.
The large silver hoops in her ears glimmer when she flicks her cherry locks out of her face and continues to crawl to me with determination. Her spine arches, ass in the air, and her toned shoulders roll back with each movement. I stay right where I am as Chase whistles excitedly beside me.
Cherry’s face is a breath away from mine now, and I can smell her, the decadent notes of vanilla and sweet cherries infiltrating all of my senses. I feel fucking dizzy. I decide in this moment that she is the only fucking high I want…need.
I sink my top teeth into my bottom lip when her minty breath dances across my mouth. She licks her lips, then runs the tip of her nose over mine, and my entire body turns rigid at the tease.
She doesn’t say anything, her glacial eyes burning into mine, and I feel the blood in my veins quickly turn to ice. When she throws her head back,away from me,her hair feathers into my eyes with the movement. The extension of her throat has methinking about the way it extended for me as she seated herself right over my cock the first time.
