The Sinner's Club [18+] Complete

chapter five.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter aligns with Chapter 5, 6 and Chapter 7 of Book i.

Six Years Later

THERE IS POWER to be found in being desired.

I don't think I fully understood that when I started working here at Sin City.

"You're booked from seven til half past midnight. I've put a break in for you at nine-thirty. They've all paid in advance," Cynthia is telling me as we walk across the main floor of the club together.

"Thank you," I say, sending her a small smile. Cynthia is brilliant at coordinating these things, and I'm forever grateful for her steadfast reliability.

"If you want to work tomorrow night, you'll be booked out then too. As always," she adds, but I shake my head, treasuring my nights off.

The past few years, things have changed here. I've changed, and it's reflected in my client bookings. There is a waiting list to have a private dance with me so long that it'll take a full year to work down. The money has increased exponentially, enough so that I no longer worry over every bill that arrives in my letterbox.

At first, I couldn't pinpoint what the change was, or why I suddenly became so popular. But I think I know now exactly what it is...

Behind Cynthia and I, the front door to the club opens, and Maksim and Viktor stride inside.

The beat of my heart trips over itself, even as I keep my expression carefully blank. They've been in Russia for the past two months doing...something. I've no idea what.

Viktor's gaze slides over to me and scans me from head to toe slowly.

It is a calculating stare, as though checking that I am alive and unharmed. When we are alone in the private room and I'm dancing for him, his stare changes and turns molten, brimming with thinly veiled desire. But right now, it is simply a clinical appraisal.

The Russians continue past us without a word, disappearing down the hallway to no doubt confer with Nathaniel.

I press my hand to my stomach, breathing steadily.

The reason for my sudden popularity—as far as I myself can determine—is that now, when I am dancing for a client, I close my eyes and I imagine that it is Viktor watching me.

I imagine that it's his eyes tracking my every move, his hungry stare eating me alive as I strip. And when I do that, the now-familiar arousal bubbles to the surface, making me uninhibited and utterly shameless. Before, I was just pretending to enjoy it all, putting on a perhaps not particularly convincing facade. But now, it's real. Or...real enough, anyway.

And that is what so many clients hunger for: the authenticity of desire. So many others offer them a forgery of pleasure, a counterfeit version of it. I offer it undiluted, pure and real.