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Victoria’s smirk faltered. But always having to be right about everything, she withdrew her own bills, placing them on top of Ali’s.

Charlotte gripped Ali’s forearm, “Ali you don’t have to⁠—”

A soft decisive kiss cut her off.

Ali leaned in close, voice low and velvety. “I believe I owe you a dance, lover.”

How she said the word lover sent a shiver down her spine.

Ali winked before striding toward one of the dancers. They exchanged a quick conversation, Ali’s hands making a subtle signing motion. The stripper grinned before leading her backstage and out of sight.

“Where is she going?” Victoria asked in utter aggravation.

Natasha wedged herself between Victoria and Charlotte, smirking as she sipped margarita through her straw.

“I hate to tell you this, Aunt Tori, but you’re about to lose this bet.”

Victoria rolled her eyes again, irritation radiating in waves as she folded her arms across her chest.

The sight filled Charlotte with a deep satisfaction. Seeing Victoria like this felt like a victory in itself.

Imani squeezed herself between Natasha and Victoria, forcing Victoria even farther down the long leather seat from Charlotte.

Imani cocked an eyebrow at Natasha. “What do you know?”

Natasha leaned in and whispered against the curve of Imani’s ear.

Brown eyes grew wide as Imani’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”

Natasha nodded, sipping her margarita with a knowing quirk to her brow. Imani burst into raucous laughter just before the lights dimmed. The bass shifted as a new dancer stepped into the spotlight, wearing heels so high her bare tattooed legs stretched on for miles…

Charlotte knew those tattoos. She tilted her head to the side… she knew those legs.

There was a familiar deep green shirt, held closed by a singular button, the length just long enough to skim the curve of her ass. A hand slid through thick red hair, pulling it free from her bun. It cascaded down her back like liquid flame. When she turned, dark eyes peered from thick lashes beneath a perfect smoky eye. Her gaze locked onto Charlotte, teeth grazing over her bottom lip in a slow, devastating drag.

Alina.

Charlotte’s mouth went dry. The orange-and-blue lace garters hinted at what lay beneath the shirt held closed by a single button.

A hand curled around the pole. Her hips swayed, slow and hypnotic, her usual effervescence melted into something molten, deliberate, and wickedly seductive.

In a smooth motion, she flicked the button open. The shirt parted, revealing the bustier beneath. She turned her back to the crowd, body moving in perfect time with the beat of the music. The shirt slid from her shoulders, down her arms, and flung to the side. Lace framed the curve of her ass, the neon light painting her in blues and oranges.

Oh, the lace…

As Ali turned, the neon light above the stage highlighted the design and color. She bit back a groan, noting the way the pattern shifted giving the illusion Ali was partially adorned in blue and orange flame.

Ali climbed the pole, and something hot and sharp shot through Charlotte, possessive, reverent, and maybe a little unhinged.

Her little firecracker.

Desire coiled tight in Charlotte’s belly as she drank in the sight of her. She knew Ali was flexible, knew she could dance but nothing prepared her for this.

Ali inverted, legs carving the air in a perfect split. One leg hooked around the pole, back arching in a sinuous bend, hands gliding down to her ankle, holding the pose with effortless control.

Charlotte couldn’t have looked away if she wanted to… and why would she want to?

As the song came to an end, Ali spun around the pole, lower and lower until her feet touched back down with fluid grace. Her next step struck just as another song began. Eyes fixed on Charlotte with a smoldering gaze as she sauntered down the steps like the stage was hers alone.