by Liza James
The entire experience is flowing through me in ways I hadn’t expected. I love the feeling of this, the freedom of letting your body flow with the beat of the music. The idea that people are watching you, loving you, becoming addicted to you—that’s powerful. Suddenly, as I stand up here, dancing with K and watching as Ruby’s hand drops to her stomach, I realize how much power I truly hold in this moment.
I’m in control. I’m the one making decisions and affecting other people with my own actions. I’m not the recipient of everyone else’s demands.
Hell no, I’m fucking free.
My hands reach up and lift around K’s neck, dragging her closer against my back, arching my ass so that I’m grinding into her hips. Her hands fall lower on my waist, slipping under the hem of my sweater so that she’s brushing against my hot skin. I keep my eyes on Ruby, watching her every movement as her hand falls even lower, skimming across the waistband of her shorts as if she’s tempting me right back.
I can’t help it, I fucking love it. This exchange we’re giving each other. It’s dark and spiteful but we’re both feeding off of the same energy, we’re both thriving and living in the same wavelength.
I tear my eyes away from her for a split second, just as K’s hand grips the base of my jaw and she turns my head back towards her. It happens so quickly that I don’t have time to stop it, but just before I register what’s happening, K’s voice whispers against my lips. “This will really fuck her off.” Suddenly, her mouth is against mine and we’re kissing but it’s only for the briefest of moments when suddenly I’m yanked away from K in hold that feels so tight it burns against my lower arm.
“What the fuck! You always kiss the fucking try-outs?” Everything shifts back into focus as Ruby’s voice blasts out in front of me. She’s the only with her fingers wrapped tightly around my arm and she stands between both K and I. K looks absolutely amused, with the smuggest smirk pulling at her lips while her eyes dance back to me.
“I kiss whoever the fuck I want, whenever the fuck I want.” An anthem, really. That’s what this sounds like. And I kind of fucking love it.
Ruby’s livid, her breathing is erratic as she tries to calm herself. An angry red tinge to her skin blooms across her neck and shoulders. It’s shitty of me, but I actually love that too. The fact that I was able to get this sort of rise out of her, that maybe she still cares enough to be friends.
“I need to talk to you,” I say quietly, interrupting their intense argument. I pull back on my arm, trying to gain her attention when her head drops back to look at me. She closes her eyes briefly, before turning her gaze back to K who is casually crossing her arms around her chest and staring right back.
“Not this one,” Ruby bites out as her shoulders stiffen and she watches until a wide smile breaks out across K’s lips. She steps forward, leaning over so that her face is only inches away from Ruby’s as she lifts a hand and lightly pats her on the cheek. Her eyes fall back to me and she finally speaks, “You’re welcome bitch.”
K walks past us, just as the man shouts for the next round of ladies to jump on the stage. Ruby pulls me towards the back, until we’re just about to break through a layer of black curtains when the man yells out from behind us. “You, new girl, if you want a job, let me know. You’ve got a spot here.”
I pause and look back, my eyes clashing with his as he lifts his chin in acknowledgement. I don’t answer right away because part of me is thrilled to hear that, while another part of me still reacts in apprehension. “She doesn’t want a goddamn job here, Sal. For fuck sake,” Ruby shouts out and a bolt of frustration rushes through me.
She doesn’t get to tell me what to do in this instance, not after I’ve been riding this fucking high of power and control. Hell no, I’m in a good fucking space right now, so I do the only thing that feels natural in the moment.
“Yes, I do. When do I start?” I shout back, and I practically feel the tension between us turn into something brittle and sharp. It’s edgy—painful—and it stings to know Ruby doesn’t want me here that badly.
“No, she fucking doesn’t,” Ruby pulls on my arm but I yank my hand back too quickly, distancing myself from her while my eyes narrow on her demand. I don’t know how she’s keeping it together right now, she’s so clearly angry and I’m both afraid and thrilled by the energy radiating off of her figure.
“Yes, I fucking do,” I grind out each individual word as I turn back to Sal, awaiting his response.
“Monday. You show up for practices every single day, you can be on the stage the following weekend. Ruby will train you.” He waves us off just as Ruby reaches for me again and drags me through the curtains. She doesn’t say a word as she harshly pulls me along the dark hallway. Flickering lights flash above us, casting fluorescent shadows across our hands, across her back. Her form is enveloped in a dark energy that I can feel seeping between us. I can’t place a finger on it, but there’s something so much darker than what I anticipated.
Back here, the façade is broken. The vulnerability, the anger and resentment, the fear and desperation are all warring for leadership. The stage embodies freedom while the back of the club personifies subjugation.
“Where the Hell are you taking me?” I ask loudly, just as she rounds the corner into a long obscure room. Several vanities are lined up along one wall, mirror after mirror. Some are cracked, some have flickering lights, but it’s a messy space of frenzied energy.
“This is where you want to fucking work? Are you kidding me?” Ruby asks sharply, shoving me roughly against the wall opposite of the vanities. She kicks the door to my left shut, locking it so that we’re enveloped in darkness aside from the dim lights on each individual dancer’s space.
I stare into her eyes, noticing how they’ve darkened into an oasis of pain and frustration. I can see it, practically feel it coursing between us. Fuck, I want to touch her. My hands ache to feel her body, experience her skin against my own. I want to clash with her Demons, her darkness and let it corrupt me.
“I want to be free,” I say quietly and suddenly all I can hear are the ragged breaths she’s trying to gain control over. “I want to be my own person. Experience my own life. I want live something outside of where I was raised, what I was taught to believe was right.”
Her eyes jump between my own as if she’s looking for my answers. “Not here, you don’t want to do that here. I promise,” she replies but her voice has dropped lower and she shifts so that she’s placing both of her hands on either side of my head against the wall.
“Yes, I do. You can teach me. I can fucking do this, Ruby.”
She drops her head, shaking it in frustration as she closes her hand in a fist and smashes it against the hard wall behind me. I gasp, immediately reaching up and taking her hand in my own as I flip it over to examine her knuckles. Her skin is broken in several places, a wash of blood coats her flesh and my heart sinks at her obvious anger. “Why? Why don’t you want me here?”
“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare put that shit on me. You’re the one who walked away last week, chose to believe those fucking liars over me.” She pushes away from me, pulling her hand free of mine as she puts distance between us. I feel it, the icy barrier that’s quickly building in this place, separating herself and her feelings from me.
“I don’t know what I believe,” I say quickly, trying to dissolve this escalating conversation before I lose her completely.
She laughs, but it’s bitter and harsh as she lifts her hands and rests them on top of her head. I shouldn’t notice but my eyes fall, coasting across her chest, her waist, her strong body as she paces in front of me. She’s fucking sexy, a flawless embodiment of everything that will ruin me.
“Liar.” Her voice is an icicle, hard and cold as it leaves her lips. “You’re a fucking liar. Look at me and tell me you think I’m into your piece of shit boyfriend.” Hastily, she rushes forward, her hand darts out and her fingers wrap tightly around my throat. She forces my head up so that I
’m staring into her eyes. They’re black as night, an abyss I could easily get lost in. Fuck, I want to lose myself in those eyes.
I’m silent, because I don’t know what to say. She’s right though, I know she doesn’t like Hawk like that. I can feel it because whatever we have going on is so much more powerful, so much more toxic than she could ever share with him—ever share with anyone.
“Tell me, Vibe Girl. Who do I really want to fuck?”
She’s watching me and everything inside of me is literally on fire. My blood, my skin, my mind. All of it is imploding on this indescribable frequency of power that’s flowing between us.
I don’t fucking want her here.
No way. It’s too dangerous with Dom. He’ll see her, he’ll want her, and if he ever thinks she’s important to me in the slightest—he’ll destroy her just to ruin me.
I can’t have that, and I can’t fucking have her here.
“I’m not here to talk about that,” she whispers quietly. Her soft voice rolls through my body as if it’s the oxygen I haven’t been able to breathe for the last seven days. I’ve been starving without her touch, suffocating without her words.
But she would avoid this, whatever it is between us. Of course, she fucking would and I’m getting sick and tired of it.
“Yeah, of course not. Why the fuck are you here then?” I release my hold around her neck and step back.
“My past, I have to tell you something. I think there’s a chance you could be in danger,” she speaks quickly, her entire demeanor is shifting into something of survival. It catches me off guard honestly, to see her somewhat afraid of something.
I remember the night she slept walk through the house, almost shooting Hawk and Bethie before I woke her. I knew it had something to do with her past, but she hadn’t told me anything about it that night.
“Okay,” I start, keeping my eyes trained on her as I wait for her to continue.
“I grew up in something called The Nation. It—It’s a cult. Fuck, I don’t want to go into details. I ran away nine years ago, I haven’t had any contact with them or my family since. But I went to shoot at my studio today and there was a note. They found me and they mentioned you.” Her voice takes on a different quality. It trembles as she reveals her truth, her body practically vibrates, and her eyes widen while she speaks. She’s afraid, literally terrified and I can sense it as she presses her back even flatter against the wall, as if she’s trying to pull away even farther.
“The Nation,” I repeat her words, trying to process exactly what she’s saying. “A cult. You grew up in a cult? Like in a field in the middle of nowhere, long dresses and no electricity kind of a cult?” Honestly, I’m not sure what she actually means by a cult. I know they exist, that there are countless with different belief systems and characteristics. But I’ve never heard of one being around here or experienced anything in relation to one.
“Yes and no, I wish it was something mundane like that,” she says, and her eyes fall shut as she drops her head back against the wall. “More like, drug induced experiences, spiritual ascension, murder and a lot of other really fucked up things.”
I’m silent.
I’m struggling to make sense of what she’s saying. Struggling to actually believe it honestly. “I’m sorry, what do you mean by all of that shit?”
“I’m not lying, if that’s what you’re getting at. I woke up in the middle of the night with a gun for fuck’s sake. I’m not making this up.” Her body tenses and her voice takes a defensive turn. She steps forward, coming closer to me, challenging me with her own defiance and frustration.
“Yeah? You sure about that? Maybe this is some fucked up story your sweet boyfriend and best friend brain-washed you with. It’s clear you’re a crazy bitch.” I’m pushing her because I’m fucking pissed, and I really don’t want her working at this club. I do believe her actually, but she doesn’t get to know that. Not yet. I need her to fucking fight back until she’s so angry she’s running out of here on her own. “Wouldn’t surprise me, honestly. You fall for his pathetic lies so you can ride his cock for a mediocre orgasm. It’s sad, really. The manipulative control you give those two over you. Ran away from a cult just to let someone else make every decision for you? I feel fucking sorry for you, never strong enough to be your own goddamn person.”
I see it, the tears welling in her eyes as she listens to me. I’m not lying though, I’m only speaking the truth. She did run away from a cult and now let’s Hawk and Bethie control every decision she makes. But the truth doesn’t make it any less painful, it also doesn’t make it any less true.
“Oh wait, I’m sorry. Did I hurt your feelings? You want me to give you another orgasm and make you feel better? Because I love secrets, and you know I’m your filthiest one,” I bite the last words out just as she launches forward. Her hand swings out in front of her, crashing towards my face as it slams against my cheek.
The bitch fucking slapped me, and every ounce of tension and rage is boiling over as I dart forward and grip her hands in mine. I yank her towards me as she yells out, flipping her around and slamming my hand over her mouth.
“Shut the fuck up,” I grind out in her ear as I press her against the counter of my vanity. She’s watching us in the reflection, and a spark of arousal licks through my blood at the sight of us, at the anger and energy the electrifies the air. “Hit me again and I’ll show you just how hard I can hit back, Vibe Girl.”
She pushes back, trying to break free of the hold I have, but I lean even further into her. I’m trapping her between myself and the counter, feeling her chest rise and fall underneath my arm as she tries to calm herself. We’re both heated and angry, but suddenly I’m even more turned on by this power, this fucking fight.
I drop my lips to her ear, letting my other hand slip under the hem of her sweater until I’m sliding up and over the thin fabric of her bra. I brush my thumb across her nipple, she’s already hard, clearly turned on by the toxic energy as well. “You’re going to screw around with my friend in front of me, a friend I’ve fucked countless times. A friend who has given me some of the best orgasms of my life, someone who I’ve felt cum around my fingers, on my fucking tongue, and then you’re going to try and work at my own fucking club?” I pinch her nipple and pull until she whimpers and moans under my touch. I want her to submit to me while I force the control out of her fingers. I drop my hand from her mouth so that she can reply, but I hold her jaw still so that she’s forced to watch me touch her in the mirror ahead of us. I lift her sweater up and over her chest, exposing her black lace bra and perfectly round tits.
“I wanted to warn you, you don’t understand the power they have. What they could do, I just wanted you to be fucking aware.” Her voice is breathless and shaky as she speaks. I appreciate the warning, I really do. But I’m too fucking angry with everything that’s happened to give her any sort of thank you.
“And?” I push farther, knowing there’s something else under the surface. She didn’t show up here to warn me and walk away again.
“And—” I yank down the front of her bra, watching those pretty pink nipples come into view in front of me. Fuck, they’re perfect. Hard and rosy against her creamy skin. I roll one between my fingers, pulling and gripping until her head falls back against my shoulder and she melts into my hold. “And I wanted us to be friends. I—I’m not ready to walk away.”
Fucking hell.
I can’t stop it, I slap her fucking tit. Hard, and she yelps in pain as her eyes snap open and she tries to pull free. So, I slap her again and watch as that milky skin washes in red, the blood rushing to the surface just as I pull on her nipple again. She’s extra sensitive with the risen blood, and honestly I want this to hurt for her even mentioning a fucking friendship.
“Fuck your fucking friendship,” I say as I bite her neck hard and suck. I hold her throat tightly with one hand while I release her breast and reach for the back of her leggings. I yank them down while I kiss her neck, reli
shing in having the taste of her fucking skin once again. I’ve missed this, but I’m fucking pissed that she would even consider reducing what we have to a pathetic friendship. I bend her forward so that her legs spread a little wider, she isn’t wearing panties—fucking tease. Hell, just the sight of her ass has me wet for her.
I slip my free hand between her legs, feeling just how soaked she actually is. She’s so turned on, by the pain, the control, the dominance. Slipping two fingers inside of her, she gasps and moans as she pushes back against my hand. I fuck her roughly, slamming inside of her while I add a third finger. “I’m not your goddamn friend, Aura. Say it.”
“No.” She has the audacity to refuse me, to actually fucking fight this and I laugh, because she’s in a for a rude awakening. I pull out of her pussy and slap my hand across her ass as she jerks in my hold.
“Say it, Vibe Girl.”
“No.”
I slap her again, harder this time and the sting cracks across my own palm as a clear red handprint paints her flesh. She yelps out and then whimpers as I slip my fingers through her pussy again, she’s practically dripping in arousal. I slide over her clit, coating her flesh in her own cum before slipping back inside of her again. I roll my hips against her ass, my own pussy throbbing with fucking desire and need as much as she is. But I ignore my own pleasure, because I’m here to teach her a goddamn lesson.
“You going to keep fighting me on this? You seriously think I want to be fucking friends with you?” I ask while I thrust inside of her, my voice low and husky while I speak against her cheek. Her skin is flushed, and I can’t get enough of it, watching her pant and listening to her moan while I work her over.
“I want us to be friends, and I want to be here at the club. You can’t change that,” she replies through another moan while I move inside her tight pussy.