Neve (Silver Skates #3) - Helen Scott Page 0,58

my mother’s money of course, but it was nowhere near as bottomless as the Astor fortune.

Right before I was about to sit down, he gave my hand a squeeze, freezing me in my tracks. “Would you like to say a few words to your donors tonight?”

I nodded and took the mic. “Silver Springs and I may have started on some rocky footing, but I like to think that I’ve become a member of this community in every way I can. I love this town more than I thought I could love a place and can’t imagine myself living anywhere else, which is why I’m so passionate about keeping the Gazette alive. The town deserves to have a record keeper that is clear and impartial, that celebrates and grieves with them, and I hope the Gazette can continue to be that for you. Every dollar you donate tonight helps us keep the paper going, and for that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.” I handed the mic back to Colden as I listened to the applause coming from the audience. Who knew that inviting a bunch of people to a strip club and giving them an excuse to ogle some mostly naked men would be such a hit?

Colden dropped the mic over the edge of the stage to one of the men that helped me up, then came and stood in front of me. The smile on his face was devilish. It promised a good time and so much more, which I knew from experience would have me panting before the night was through. I just hoped I was out of the spotlight by the time it came to that.

As soon as the music started and his body began moving, I knew I was lost. The crowd might be there, might be watching us, but I didn’t care in the slightest. The only thing I had on my mind was my demon and the way he could roll those hips, and my mouth went dry with desire. Especially as he peeled the jeans and shirt from his body as he danced, leaving him once again in his favorite black, sparkly thong.

He flipped and twirled around me, each time touching me in some way, until my skin was so sensitized that I felt ready to explode from just one look. When his ass was grinding on my lap, I about lost it, and when he did an impressive spin so he could flawlessly pick me up from the chair and lay me gently on the ground, I wanted to snap that black glittery thong from his waist and fuck him right there on stage. Screw the audience.

Colden’s hips ground against my own, and he snaked his way up and down my body, making my chest heave as I watched him. When he hooked my legs around his shoulders and lifted me off the stage so I was dangling down his front, I almost screamed. My tits almost fell out as well, but that was less of a concern to me in that moment. I trusted Colden completely though, so all that slipped past my lips was a little gasp.

The spins and grinding dance moves somehow winded up with me being back on the chair and his thong-clad cock in my face. The only problem was I knew what lay behind the material and the way he used it, which made it almost impossible to stop myself from pulling that fabric away. I managed though. Barely.

He sauntered away from me a moment later and came back carrying a strip of material that he wrapped around my eyes, blocking out the world, so my sense of sight was taken. I felt more than heard him when he said, “Trust me.”

The music shifted, and I heard the audience cheer loudly enough that I was wondering what was going on. When multiple sets of feet began pounding the floor of the stage around me, I was surprised. I had thought it was just going to be me and Colden on stage, so the fact that he was having some of his coworkers join in was unusual.

When I started feeling hands all over my body, I got more than a little weirded out, but there was something about the touches that felt familiar. I wished I could look out into the audience and see Rory and Niklaus’ reaction to this whole thing.

The music shifted again from something with a heavy beat to something sweeter