Christmas Captive - Isabella Starling Page 0,8
the many notifications on her phone. She didn’t even glance up, probably texting a friend to complain what a pervert Grayson Kline turned out to be. Not that I cared. She was better off with someone else, and at least we wouldn’t end the night with her having a hopeless crush on me. I never encouraged those. They irritated me to no end.
Once again, the music changed, and this time the patrons started chanting along with the melody. I could make out one word—Kitty. Was she the next dancer? With my gaze fixed on the stage, I waited for this girl, obviously the most popular one, to come out. She had the prime slot for dancing, and the bastards in the room were eager to stuff their money down her thong. I hoped she’d be a worthy distraction. Otherwise, I’d end up very cross with Kai for sending me to this hole.
The girl walked out, a vision in pink. Everything was rosy, from her lingerie to the stockings and heels, and the cat mask that covered her face. It was made of sequins, covering the upper half of her face, with kitten ears on top, in pastel pink.
She was enchanting from the start, with her dark brown hair and the way her body swayed to the music. She looked like a timid little kitten—exactly the look her outfit demanded of her. I was engrossed in her performance, watching her move effortlessly. A natural dancer. You didn’t see a lot of those in joints like Le Cabaret.
“Are you going to stare at her all night?” Addison piped up from behind me.
“More than likely, yes.” I took a sip of champagne, never taking my eyes off the dancer.
“Well, then it seems like you don’t need me. I might as well leave.”
Prissy little bitch. “Be my guest, Addison. But be careful, those bouncers don’t look like they’ll be particularly nice to any woman, let alone a rich bitch who turns her nose up at them.”
She huffed and puffed behind me, knowing I was right. She’d have to wait for me to escort her home, and she didn’t like it one bit. I wasn’t done yet, though. My eyes were glued to the stage. I was determined to watch the kitten’s impressive performance to the very end, Addison be damned.
While my date was glued to her phone, I watched Kitty on the stage. She was a wonder. She was the kind of woman you’d move mountains for. My hands formed fists as I thought of having that sinful little body in them. I wanted to claim her. Hurt her. Own her.
She danced with ease, smooth moves making her ethereal, like an angel descended on earth. I could have fallen in love with the woman purely from the way she moved. But I stopped myself before that could happen. I’d practiced controlling myself for a long time, and I needed to know more about the mystery woman before I allowed my feelings to take over.
During her performance, Kitty saw me in the VIP booth. I wasn’t certain how much she could see—we were sitting a little way off, and the lights were dimmed. But she zeroed in on me, and for the rest of her show, I felt like she was dancing only for me. My cock was painfully hard in my slacks, straining against the fabric of my trousers, eager to be inside her.
Kitty’s dance took all of twenty minutes, and they went by in a blur. She was done too soon, retreating backstage and blowing kisses to her adoring audience.
I needed more.
I stood up, Addison scrambling to her feet behind me and murmuring, “Finally.”
I smirked at her, saying, “Are you always this absent on your dates? I pity the next guy if you’re going to spend the night glued to your phone.”
Her expression darkened and she shrugged nonchalantly. “Seemed like you were distracted, so I caught up on some texts.” Her eyes flashed with anger as she motioned toward the stage. “You’re obviously more interested in that… stripper, than you ever were in me.”
“You’re right,” I told her decidedly. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
She followed me out of the Le Cabaret, to the front of the street where my limo was waiting. I opened the door for her, and she got in, still hopeful that something would happen between us as she gave me a suggestive look up the slit of her glittery designer dress.
“Have a safe trip home,” I told her, tapping the