𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄

"A private dance."

A private dance is what he stipulated in a charred, masculine tone. I don't think I've heard accurately. He wants a private dance. From me? Of all the women who work at this club. I respond in a veracious manner, "Lo siento, Señor, but I don't do private dances."

His eyes hold a glint of impishness as his goatish hands meander firmly around my waist. Butterflies swarm through my stomach and I curse my ludicrous body for reacting so quicky to this handsome stranger's touch. He leans in closer, susurrating into my ear, "I'll pay you twenty grand, mia amata."

Though stunned by such a great sum of money, my lips form into a sardonic pout as I scoff, "You're going to pay twenty grand for a private dance with a woman whom you've just met. Well, aren't you a desperate little thing?"

My mother had always warned me since a little girl that my mouth would get me in grave trouble someday. I'm presuming that someday is now because his clutch around my waist got tighter to the point where I could feel his fingernails digging crescents into my lissome skin. His mesmerizing eyes darken like obsidian, and he grants me a sinister sneer before threatening minaciously, "You've got a very dangerous tongue, don't you? Well, you better watch that pretty mouth of yours, little vixen, before I put it to better use."

His deep, velvety voice makes a shiver trail down my spine. I have never shut my mouth so fast in my life. Now, if it was another person, I would have simply bitten back, cursed them or beat their ass bloody with my chanclas, however, there is something quite intriguing about this man that I could not put a finger too. Perhaps it is his enigmatically powerful and dominant aurora, or his striking appearance, or maybe that sultry, Italian accent slipping off his tongue.

Noticing my tight-lipped expression, he derides which makes me fume like a demon entrapped in a Stygian cage, "Cat got your tongue, little vixen? What do you say?"

"Cat got your balls, sly fox? Give a lady a minute to collect her thoughts, Dios mio." I retort, my tone laced with downright mordacity, as he chuckled lightly in a deep, baritone timbre.

I contemplate for a quick second. Twenty grand. Twenty fucking grand. No one and I literally mean no one would just offer a stripper twenty grand for a private dance without an ulterior motive. I should re-consider, but you know what. Fuck it. This money would be of great assistance to me, and I should not let such a providential opportunity slip from my hands.

After making a hasty decision that is destined to bite me in the ass in the future, I nod my head in agreement as a simper slowly creeps up his captivating mien. He takes my diminutive hand into his large one and escorts us out of the dark hallway and up a flight of stairs.

The very minute we enter the solitary room, he seals the door behind us. I take a minute to scrutinize my environs. The entirety of the room is irradiated by a red hue and situated in front of the black, leather sofa is a pole. My heart pounds erratically against my chest as I begin re-evaluating my choice.