by Liza James
I race out of the studio and towards a trash can that rests in the corner of the hallway. I drop the items inside, refusing to look at them again, refusing to acknowledge their existence in that veiled space. I quickly rush back and lock up, pulling out my phone and sending a quick text to a friend that sometimes assists for me. She reschedules my sessions or steps in on behalf of my company, so I tell her that something has come up and if she can shoot or contact the clients, it would be appreciated.
Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I race down the stairwell and outside, trying to gain some sort of insight as to where I am in comparison to Pandora’s Box. I shouldn't be entirely too far away, but it'll take a bit to walk there. I don't mind though, I hope the fresh air will help clear my mind while I try to figure out how to break all of this to her.
I need to see her. I have to know she's okay, that she isn't already taken by The Nation.
After I figure out the quickest route to the club, I race forward, running through the busy streets while forcing my legs to move faster and faster. I try to steady my breaths, but the adrenaline coursing through my body has me working on overdrive. An all-consuming need to simply be near her overwhelms me and I use it as fuel. To push me harder, push farther, until I'm finally running up to the front of the club and ripping the doors open in broad daylight.
“That’s it! That’s it! Keep it going ladies. You know exactly what they want to see, but what do they want to feel when they watch you?” a man’s thick voice shouts over the loud music that blasts through the club. It’s upbeat, but there is a low tone of sensuality that resonates through the seductive baseline.
It’s dark in here, more so than I expected in broad daylight. It feels just as it did the night I came here with Hawk and Bethie. Only now, this portion of the club is filled with only the dancers and employees. All of the girls are dressed far more casually, in short athletic bottoms and sports tops. There seems to be a line of women towards the right side of the stage, each of them stretching or chatting nervously with the next in line.
Confusion washes through me as I scan the room for Ruby, hoping to find her off to the side so I can steal her away to chat quickly before I leave. I can’t make this long, I can’t stretch this out in order to be around her for an extended period of time. I need to make sure she’s safe and aware of what could be happening, but then I need to leave and get a hold of Hawk.
I step deeper into the club, keeping my feet light in hopes that I don’t draw attention to myself.
“I’ll tell you what they want to feel. They want to look at you and imagine their hands on your body. They want to know what it would be like to be with you. They become entranced with your movements, with your connection to the crowd, and the way you can tempt even the strongest of wills.” He speaks passionately at first, but his tone shifts into something darker, something less about desire and more about lust. “They want to fuck you. And you need to portray yourselves as if they’re doing just that while you dance.”
I pause for moment, listening to his words and the way he shares two sides of emotions that center around the dancers. It’s an art, this form of entertainment and while I know there are dark and dangerous things that happen here, there’s also something so magnetic about the energy in this place.
I’m drawn here, as if I want to be a part of the electric vibe pulsing through the music and reaching into my body. It dances through my own blood and entices me to step closer, dive a little deeper into the oasis of temptation.
Maybe it’s because of how I was raised, the sheer attraction I have to this. Maybe it’s because the evil toxicity of a place like this was shoved so fully down my throat that I want to embrace it entirely.
It’s a strange sense of enlightenment being here. After years and years of listening to sermons and prophetic speeches of what is light and darkness, I had drowned in a false sense of identity. I was made to believe that I enjoyed certain things, I was taught that I wanted to be hurt, to be cleansed through the sexual relations I had with Malin.
It’s sick, I know it is. And the guilt of what I thought I needed continues to weigh so heavily on my heart that I try to avoid it at all costs. Especially now that Malin has made contact again. Fuck, the idea that he could possibly ever put his hands on me in the future makes me absolutely sick with nausea.
And it also pushes me further into this place, into something they would consider vile and wrong. I want to create my own identity outside of my fucking past and being here somehow gifts me a newer sense of liberation.
A newer appreciation of control over my own actions.
“That’s it Ruby, you know eye contact is everything. Show them what they would get if they ever had a chance with you,” he coaxes, and his voice drops into something a little more lustful. It immediately has me darting my gaze to the stage as my eyes land on my mystery dancer. My Vibe Girl.
Ruby with someone else. Dancing on the stage with someone I don’t recognize.
But I wouldn’t recognize them, fuck I’ve only been here one other time and only saw two other dancers outside of her that I could potentially distinguish from the others.
My heart thumps in my chest, slowly at first but steps up in speed as my eyes become glued to the two of them. The other girl has red hair, long and silky that flows down past her ass while her hands drift across Ruby’s back and move lower. They’re staring at each other while the music pounds around them, their bodies moving in sync as they dance against each other.
Forget the fucking pole, these two are putting on a show for everyone around them with their hands and lips and bodies. Ruby grips the redhead’s hair in one hand, wrapping it several times around her fist as she pulls her head backwards. They keep moving, grinding against each other while Ruby’s tongue slips out and trails a long, sensual path from her collar bone all the way up to her ear.
It’s hot. I won’t lie. I’m finding myself in that spot again, the one which is becoming a quickly familiar reminder how this actually turns me on. Something I’ve never been attracted to in the past is weaving its way through my mind and beating through my blood until it pools between my legs in arousal.
But there’s something else as well, something that edges just a little stronger than my own lust.
Jealousy.
And it fucking stings to watch Ruby with someone else while I’m standing right here. To see her tasting someone else’s skin, watching her hands grip and pull someone else’s body against her own.
“Fuck me. Damn Ruby, are you going to fuck me like that when we’re done here?” another female voice breaks out from the seated dancers towards the front of the stage. She’s has a rougher edge to her tone. It’s light, but there is something sharp, something that tells me people don’t fuck with her.
The dancers sitting in front are closer to me than I realized, because I’ve drifted further than I intended. I didn’t even notice how my feet were moving without my knowledge, bringing me towards my own demise, my own personal addiction.
My head snaps to the side as I observe the dancer who called out in response to Ruby and her partner. But the man’s voice is quick to address her comment and distract me, “Quiet, K. You’re going up next, so you better be prepared to set the new standard.”
She looks back to him, her honey blonde hair falling just below her shoulders as she laughs a sarcastic sound. She doesn’t look like she gives a fuck, honestly, or as if she’s ready for the challenge. But her eyes fall to me briefly, and narrow for a moment before she turns back to the stage.
“Nah, you wouldn’t do that, right Ruby? I’d be the one fucking you anyway.” She laughs again, this time throwing her head back in genuine humor and Ruby is quick to halt her movements as her gaze falls to K.
“Say that again when my hands around your throat and you’re begging me to let you come, bitch,” Ruby replies in a voice that sends shivers down my spine, forcing me to close my eyes for a moment while I imagine her words in my own ear, her fi
ngers wrapped around my own throat.
Fuck, and now I’m uncomfortably jealous of this dancer I don’t know but have no doubts has been with Ruby.
“Wait, you get to choke her? Why the fuck are you always trying to top me then, K?” Another new voice, another new dancer, peeking her head up from the side of the room while everyone breaks out in laughter.
“All right, all right. Chill the fuck out, I promise there’s plenty of me for everyone. And besides babe, I do shit with you that I would never do with Ruby.” She stands up, stretching her legs as she moves down the row of seats. Stopping in front of the other dancer who joined the conversation, K turns towards her and lets her hand slowly trail up and around the front of the girl’s jaw, gripping tightly as she twists her head to the side and speaks in her ear. But she’s loud enough for all of us to hear, and her eyes stayed glued on me the entire time. “You know that thing I do with my tongue and the knife?”
“Jesus, fuck,” the girl replies breathlessly as she shoves K away, laughing all the while as she turns and walks towards the stage. Ruby clearly finds all of this funny and climbs off the front of the platform while the redhead exits towards the other girls that watch from the sidelines.
“All right, put on Haunt You by Social House. And I want the new girl in the back,” she commands the room as she jumps on the stage, reaching for a small black metal chair that sits towards the edge. Gripping it, she drags it forward, letting the screeching sound of the legs reverberate through the room. A sick and twisted smile pulls at her lips though, and just as she whips the chair around so it’s facing the back, she sits down and points to the back of the club, zeroing in on the person she wants to join her on stage.
My skin tingles, praying that someone else has snuck into the club behind me and I simply missed them. So, I whip my head around, immediately stepping back to allow that person to come forward.
Shit, fuck. Fucking shit.
“You,” the man calls out to me. His eyes widening just slightly, almost in disbelief as he scoffs and nods his head to the stage. “She’s talking to you. Now go on up, you showed up for try-outs, it’s time to show us what you’ve got.”
“What? No. No, absolutely not. I’m not here—”
“Aura?” Ruby’s voice breaks out through the room, interrupting my scramble of words as I immediately fall silent and look to her. She looks pissed, honestly. She’s standing up, her shoulders back and her chin tilted upwards. God, she’s gorgeous. Her skimpy black spandex rides way too high to even be considered shorts, and she wears a white sports top that’s cropped just below her tits.
White. Fucking white.
She’s been working out and her skin glistens in the heat of her dance. Her hair is tied up into a big dark, messy bun and strands have fallen into wisps around her face. She’s fucking strong and muscular, in a way that screams dominance and sex and power and I can’t help but be fucking attracted to it.
I swear her nipples are hard, I can see them through the thin fabric of her top, and I’m trying not to stare but I could swear she has her nipples pierced. How the hell is this the first time I’m realizing that?
“Eyes up here, Vibe Girl,” Ruby snaps out. Vibe Girl. She’s still using my nick name, only this time I know she isn’t saying it out of affection and intrigue. There’s a nasty bite to her tone that sends shivers of fear riding up my spine. I shouldn’t have done this. “What the hell are you doing here? Get the fuck out.”
My heart sinks, even though I know it’s my fault. What am I doing here?
“No way, don’t scare her off just yet. I’m not done playing. Come on up, kitty. Let me show you why Ruby isn’t worth it,” K’s voice falls into a deeper tenor. It’s coasting over my skin and through my ears in a way that enchants me, tempts me to do just as she says. And with the way Ruby is watching our exchange? I almost want to do it in order to spite her.
“I’m not trying out,” I say tentatively, completely surprising myself that I’m even considering doing this. I’ve never done anything even remotely close to this. But fuck, I’m tempted, and I want Ruby to feel the way I felt when I was watching her with someone else.
It’s ridiculous, I know. But I feel it all the same.
“Don’t try out, that’s fine. I just need someone to stand up here and look pretty while I fuck them.” She tilts her head to the side, the corner of her lips snap up in a dangerous smirk that makes me even more nervous. Even more thrilled.
This is so wrong, and somehow that makes it even more right.
“I swear to god, K. You’re dancing around a thin fucking line right now,” Ruby’s voice grinds out as she takes a seat directly in front of the center of the stage. I slowly walk forward and jump up on the stage. The man running this entire thing laughs to himself, allowing it for now and shaking his hands in dismissal.
K stands up from the chair and moves to the side as she twists it around, motioning for me to take a seat. She laughs at Ruby’s remark, but doesn’t offer any other response, no. Now her attention is focused solely on me and my blood heats up as I watch her come to stand directly in front of me.
I’m wearing leggings today, my favorite black Lulu’s and another slouchy knitted red sweatshirt that hangs loosely off both of my shoulders. It’s comfortable to shoot in, and I assumed I’d have an entire day of photographing families before my plans were quickly altered. But suddenly, I wish I had worn something thinner because just as the music starts playing, everything around me warms and the lights dim even lower.
My head is throbbing with anticipation and hesitation. I’m intrigued and overwhelmed by the desire I have to make Ruby jealous, to see any reaction to what I’m doing in hopes that maybe—fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I’m not done being around her yet. Maybe I don’t want to let go of her completely. Maybe we can somehow be friends?
K begins dancing, her arms lifting up and over her head as she comes closer to me. That smile falls from her lips and her eyes darken into a deeper shade, something that resembles a predator rather than a dancer. She shifts around me, moving slowly and sensually as her hands fall to my shoulders. Her fingers trail long, slow paths across my neck, my collar bone, every step she takes around me, her hands follow suit. Exploring, enticing, consuming.
She comes back in front of me as the music picks up, this time stepping forward and literally climbing on top of me. Her legs straddle my waist as her body rolls against my own, her hands grip the back of the chair at first, but her head dips down and her lips move against my ear as she speaks. “You want Ruby to notice you? This is how you do it.”
“I don’t want her to notice me,” I lie, just as I drop my own hands to rest on her hips. My fingers grip into her skin, feeling her body move and dance in my space. Fuck, it’s erotic watching her do this. My eyes drop lower, falling on her chest, on her tits as they brush against mine while she moves.
“Fucking liar,” she whispers, and her body comes even closer, completely flush with mine while she grinds against me. “I’ve fucked her.”
My hold tightens, straining against her flesh in both jealousy and the spark of adrenaline that bursts through me. My eyes fly back up to hers and she tilts her head to the side while she watches me react.
“You have?” I have to ask, because I love torturing myself and I have to fucking hear it.
She smiles, but everything else around her darkens and suddenly I’m even more curious and fucking jealous to know what happened between them. “Hell yes,” she whispers as she leans back and takes my hands in hers, guiding them up her stomach as she leans further away from me. I feel her, stroke her heated skin under my fingers as she directs my hands to where she wants them on her body.
“Tell me,” I say, a little too loudly than I intend but I can’t help it. I’m lost in this moment, of feeling this dancer against my body while she talks about being with the woman I actually want to experience. God, it’s so fucking wrong, and I’m practically trembling with jealousy, but I can’t stop the
heady demand as it falls from my lips.
“God, she’s fucking good. I’ll give her that.” She leans forward, dragging my hands up until I’m touching her chest, feeling her tits through her thin black crop top while she grinds against my soaked pussy. She releases her hold on me, but I don’t let go. Fuck I want to touch her, I’m getting off on the idea of being with Ruby while I’m fucking around with someone else. “She fucks you like she doesn’t care about anyone else, like all she wants is for you to submit to her. She likes being in control.” She leans forward, wrapping her fingers around the back of my neck as my head falls and my eyes slip shut. “She likes making you beg for it.”
Jesus, holy shit. I’m so fucking gone, so lost in this and the feel of K while we grind against each other. My legs fall wider, my pussy throbbing with the need to be filled, to be fucked.
“Look at her,” K’s voice breaks through my lustful haze and I slowly open my eyes. “Watch her while I fuck with you.”
Her lips drop to my neck, shifting to the side so I can look over her shoulder. Ruby is sitting directly in front of me, her arms spread wide over the back of her chair while one leg is kicked up on the seat and the other dangles towards the ground.
My eyes lock with Ruby’s and it’s as if I’m paralyzed there, to that very moment. Desire and need consume me, I’m forcing full inhales of breath while my heart rate spikes, and my hips roll forward.
I can see Ruby’s chest as it quickly falls and rises, her own breaths picking up speed while her lips flatten into a line across her face. But her eyes are on fire, blazing through my skin, searing my flesh and poisoning my blood in everything that is her.
“Yeah, that’s it. Dance with me, show her what the fuck she’s missing.” K slowly stands up and pulls me with her she turns me around so that I’m facing Ruby. K stands at my back and we move together, her hands on my hips as she guides my movements, silently instructing me with her touch so that I glide in the ways that she does.