“Aw,” he teased. “So you would mourn me?”
“Of course, silly. I’ve mourned lesser things.” I gave him a crooked smile. “Like my last container of chocolate Oreo ice cream. They stopped making it one day. It was a dark time.”
He clutched his chest. “How ever did you survive?”
I snorted. “Hit a local Cold Stone and got me a ‘love it’ sized chocolate ice cream with Oreos mashed in and pretended it was the real deal. But,” I said dramatically, “back to what I think you can help me with.”
He narrowed his eyes. “If this ends in violence or emotional devastation, I want it on record that I wanted no part in it.”
I grinned. “No, no. Nothing that tragic. I need you to choreograph a sexy little number for me.”
“A dance,” he clarified, skeptical.
“Yes, a dance.”
“A sexy dance.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You know how to make things sound weird.”
He crossed his arms. “Will it involve…ribbon removal?”
I let the pause drag for dramatic effect, tapping my chin with a finger. “Mmm. No comment.”
“Game on. Maybe your Kings can hire me to teach their girls. I hear they have a whole operation going on downtown.”
“Oh, have you, now? But low-key, that is brilliant. You should absolutely do that. In fact, I will speak to them on your behalf, of course.”
“Why thank you, mademoiselle.”
We spent two hours working on a routine that I knew within five minutes was going to knock my Kings’ socks off—and their pants too. When my phone buzzed on the dock, lighting up with Ivan’s name, it broke the dancing spell we were under.
I picked it up, thumb hovering. “Looks like I’m being summoned.”
“Don’t forget to put in that word for me. Because I’m taking the job here. Clarity always comes when I dance with you. Another reason I hate that you’re leaving. I have one last part of my contract I have to fulfill, but on the off chance you come back, I’ll be here.”
With a kiss on the top of my head, he gathered his things and flew out the door, a thousand times lighter than when he entered.
“What are you doing, little love?” Ivan asked.
I turned my attention to him and let go of the reality of my life. Pretending hurt less, and I wanted to soak in some more good memories that would stay with me long after I was gone.
“Just got done dancing with Pasha.”
The two of us chatted for a bit while I went back to my room. My eyes kept darting to the suitcase Marcus had dropped off. I was dying to open it, and once I did, I squealed in excitement. It was everything I imagined it would be. My fingers traced the cheeky panties on top, a new addition. There was a card on top with a note.
Thought these would make the unwrapping all the more sensual. —Marcus.
After shooting him a text thanking him, I showered and then locked my door to try a few pieces on. Music played from a playlist on my phone, and I danced around my room. I could finish packing later. Delicately, I placed the pieces of the outfit against my body. It wasn’t lingerie in the sense of panties and a bra, more like simple straps that wrapped around my body.
The top ones crossed over my full bare breasts, wrapping around my nipples. They crossed in the back and then wound down around my waist and clipped right over the swell of my ass. The bottom straps attached at the waist and hugged my thighs. Once everything was in place, I stood back and looked at myself in the mirror.
I closed my eyes and thought again about my new fantasy. Of course, it was contingent on me securing Sebastian’s help, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t hesitate. I envisioned sneaking into the club after hours, when no one was there, making it look like a break-in. When the alarm triggered, it would alert my Kings, who would come rushing down. When they came in, I would be ready for them.
Music would start, and I’d sing for them as I danced solely for their pleasure. I would put on a full show for them. Dancing on stage at their club, wearing only this strappy ensemble and cat ears. One thing would lead to another, and the four of us would end up in one of the rooms together. Cuffs, spreader bars, blindfolds, and more would come out, along with a few of the toys I’d asked Marcus to pick up.
CHRISTOPHER KING
The gates swung shut behind the unmarked black car. It stopped only a few feet away from the front entrance. Peering down from the second-floor balcony, I fixated on the scene. From my elevated vantage point, I was able to capture every detail. I dialed Alek and listened as it rang on the other end.
