Trouble with the Fake Boyfriend (Rock Bottom #3) - Holly Renee Page 0,69
those doors were as well. They had expectations. They had specific tastes, and Tainted catered to those tastes.
But bachelor parties?
They were another beast.
Men at bachelor parties were rowdy. Alcohol flowed, inhibitions were low, and the men were fueled by the idea of only being with one woman for the rest of their lives.
I took a deep breath as I made my way to room one. Several men sat in the private room facing the stage where I would dance. Their eyes searched the black curtains waiting for me to appear as the lights in the room began to dim. Seduction was in the air, and I was the temptress.
The strong beat of the music shook the stage below my feet as I got settled behind the curtain. My hands gripped the intricate black mask as I situated it over my eyes. Mark thought I wore it to give myself a more mysterious appeal, but I needed that mask. It was the only way I could build the courage to go up on stage. It kept me hidden. It kept me safe.
On the outside, I looked like a sexy, confident woman, but on the inside, I was dying a little bit every time I went out on stage. But I could hide it. I had to.
The song built and when I heard my cue to enter the stage, I took a deep breath, filling my lungs, and blew out all my nerves. I wasn’t Olivia Mae Conner anymore. I was Liv, and I ruled this stage.
My black high heels shined in the spotlight as I walked out onto the small black platform. The men catcalled as soon as they saw me, but I attempted to block them out. I focused on the beat of “Shameless” by The Weeknd, my song, and I let the lyrics sink into me.
My right hand met the pole at the center of the stage and the cold metal caused chill bumps to break out across my skin. Circling the pole slowly, I looked out into the room.
Most of the men wore sharp suits that were perfectly pressed and exquisitely fit. Long cigars hung from their mouths and glasses full of their choice of poison sat in their hands.
I made my way back around the front of the pole, and I quickly dropped down, my back against the cold metal, my thighs spread open, my body on display. I heard a few sharp inhales of breath, and I knew that I was doing my job. Hunger stared back at me in the eyes of the men that surrounded me.
I rolled my hips as I began to stand, but my footing faltered when I looked into the pair of green eyes that were staring at me from the center of the room. Undeniable lust looked back at me.
I blinked, my long eyelashes hitting my mask, and continued to dance. Standing, I bent at the hips and ran my hand down my leg. My hips rolled to the beat of the music, and my heart pounded at a much faster pace. He looked familiar to me, too familiar, but I couldn’t get a good enough look from where I danced. But as I glanced back out into the crowd, I couldn’t move my eyes away from him.
He looked dangerous. He reminded me of a bad habit. He was something I knew I shouldn’t want, but I felt myself gravitating toward him regardless.
There was barely an inch of his skin that wasn’t covered in tattoos. I couldn’t make out what they were in the dark lighting, but I could see his tattooed hand wrapped around a crystal glass with each knuckle marked with ebony ink.
His gaze bore into me. He watched every swivel of my hips. He tracked my every move like a hunter ready to strike its prey.
My body knew the music and moved without me putting in much thought. My hips rolled, my hands caressed, and the men in front of me ate it up as if I was their last meal.
But I needed to get closer to him.
The need to know where I knew him from was overpowering. I stepped off the stage but didn’t immediately make my way over to him. Instead, I took my time, giving each man in the room a closer look as I made my way to him. But I watched him. I searched the shadows that clouded his face for some resemblance of who he was.