It’s one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen, and I hate her for it.
Where is that good girl who shied away from anyone’s advances?
Where is that timid, quiet student with glasses and plain clothes that no one gives a second look to?
Because she’s certainly not here!
In her place is a succubus, drawing men to their knees and making them beg for her attention. This torture continues for five more songs, each one with the intent of leaving her audience hot and bothered, craving her next melodic word. She’s fully dressed, and all she did was sing, yet I feel like I just watched the most intimate sex show on that stage.
When the curtains finally close, everyone jumps to their feet in applause, except for my table.
I’m fuming.
I’m livid.
I’m fucking hard beyond measure.
“Baby.” I hear Stone whimper in Finn’s ear, her hurting tone mirroring my own.
“I got you, brat,” he mumbles hoarsely, before getting out of his seat. “We just have to step out for a minute,” he croaks over to us, his hands gripping Stone’s waist.
“Just fucking go already!” I shout, pissed they have to fuck after watching Scarlett do her thing.
“Sorry, man.” Finn shrugs, having the decency to look embarrassed before Stone pulls him away.
Lincoln just chuckles softly beside me, and it takes everything in me not to slam my fist into my best friend’s face.
“What’s so funny?”
He shakes his head, but the little snicker in his lips says it all.
Fuck it! I’m about to lay it on him when Colt arrives, his hair all disheveled like some girl was holding onto it as he ate her out.
“We should go,” he says with a hard face.
I couldn’t agree more, but somehow, I think his reasoning isn’t the same as mine.
“What happened?” Lincoln asks with concern.
Colt snatches Lincoln’s drink off the table and downs the rest of the gin before slamming the glass back down.
“This place has officially lost its appeal.” He wipes his mouth with his sleeve.
“Just spit it out.”
“My dad’s here.”
“Maybe he’s here for the show.” Lincoln tries to soothe.
“We both know that son of a bitch isn’t here to watch pussy dance.”
“Sing. She didn’t dance. She sang.” I try to defend.
But who am I kidding? Scarlett just wiped the floor with every porno I’ve seen since I was twelve years old.
“Like I fucking care. I need to blow this joint now before I fucking do something we will all regret.”
And that means Colt blowing his fuse and decimating this mansion to the ground.
“Okay, let’s go.”
Lincoln gets up from his seat, tilting his chin to me to follow suit. I slowly trail behind them, but right before I’m about to leave the room, the music starts again. The curtain pulls up, and this time, Scarlett is wearing a long, sleek black dress and black wig, thankfully alone on stage. As she begins to sing the first verse of The Devil Within, an idea pops into my head—one that will not only appease The Society but will also please me greatly.
Gotcha, sweet angel. You’ll be begging for the devil’s mercy soon enough.
“Where are you going?” Lincoln questions, holding onto my arm when he sees me heading back into the show room.
“I thought I’d wait for the second set to finish and congratulate Angel on her performance, of course,” I reply mischievously.
“Is that how you’re going to play this?”
I shrug and reply, “You have a better idea?”
Lincoln runs his fingers over his chin in contemplation but doesn’t say anything to the contrary. He looks over at Colt, knowing he’s seconds away from creating mayhem.
“Stay here.”
“Linc—”
“Just give us five more minutes, Colt. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“No promises.”
Linc lets out an exasperated exhale and tilts his head over to the bar where Ruby is standing.
“Go talk to her, East, but try to be quick about it.”
Since Colt is acting up, Linc won’t leave his side. That’s fine by me. I work better alone, anyway.
I walk up to our hostess, who is keeping an eagle eye on the room. Ruby must be the madam who makes sure everything is in order. Not only with her girls but also with the suited clientele.
“Have you changed your mind about having some company tonight?” she cajoles when she sees me approach.
“Actually, I was thinking of having a few words with your main performer.”
Her brows screw together, quickly showing a protective expression, and she retorts, “That won’t be possible.”
“And why is that?”
She puts her arms over my neck seductively—as a ruse to get my mind off of Scarlett—and rubbing her nose against mine, she coos, “Our Angel is preparing her wings to fly. We can’t interrupt her. And besides, as I recall, you’re a plus-one for the Richfield boys. We only make exceptions for VIP members.”
I grind my teeth but give her my most charming smile yet.
“Then we’ll just have to fix that, now won’t we?”
Chapter 8
Easton
I wait until the very last minute to enter the classroom. I might not have been successful in confronting Scarlett on her nocturnal activities last Saturday night, but that doesn’t mean I won’t interrogate her in the light of day on Monday.
As I expected, Scarlett is sitting all by herself, her nose buried deep in her trusty notebook. I walk up the stairs and take the open seat beside her. When she feels she has company, she lifts her head up, and her dark brown eyes stare into mine in distaste. Her body stiffens, but she goes back to her notes, refusing to acknowledge my presence.
That won’t do.
I slap her book closed and lean into her neck. Her back goes ramrod straight against the chair while her eyes stay focused on the whiteboard in front of the room.
“Go away, Easton. This isn’t even your class.”
She’s right. It’s not. But since last week she didn’t appear to the ones we had together, this week I decided to up my game.
“I liked you better in Saturday night’s outfit,” I whisper in her ear, watching how her ivory skin instantly blushes with my breath on it.
It’s a lie, but I wanted to get a reaction out of her.
Her lips thin as I lean back and make a show of skating my eyes over her once more.
Unlike the other night up at The Brass Guild, she’s back to her usual get-up. Her trademark ponytail is brushed and tied perfectly to the back of her head, giving her a stern, all-business-like aura about her. The oversized sweater perfectly achieves her end goal, hiding away all the luscious curves those assholes salivated over. And the pièce de résistance of her ensemble are the thick, dark-rimmed glasses that conceal her best feature—her deep, rich brown eyes. I can only imagine them going wide when she’s about to cum.