Ignite (The Disciples Book 4)

by Cassandra Robbins

  “What’s your name?”

  “Candy.” She puffs out air, her hand going to check her tight bun.

  “Candy? You’re a terrible liar.” I toss the pen and lean back in the chair.

  “Excuse me?” She sounds aggravated, which makes me grin.

  “Before you were Cookie. Now you’re Candy? How about we start with your real name.”

  “What’s your real name?” she fires right back yet frowns as if she’s only now realized she’s mouthing off to the one person she needs.

  “Mitchell,” I state. Her eyes bolt to mine. “But no one calls me that besides my sister.”

  “I thought we were supposed to have stage names.” She bites her bottom lip.

  “You can. But, I want to know your real name. You asked me mine, and I told you.” I cock my head at her, interested in what she’s gonna do.

  “So, if I tell you the truth, I get the job?”

  “No.” I sit up, done with her. She wants to play games? Negotiate? Not gonna happen.

  “Thanks for taking an interest in the Pussycat, but we are definitely going in a different direction.” Her expression makes her look like I just kicked her dog. Christ, why did Edge have to do this to me? He’s way better at dealing with the girls.

  “Can I at least have two minutes of your time? I don’t think that’s too much to ask.” She gazes down at the desk, which I have in perfect order. I have a certain way I like things to look and run, so the first thing I did was rearrange Derrick’s desk.

  “Darlin’—”

  “Don’t call me that,” she says, her voice tight, and my lips twitch at her fucking gall. Standing, I walk around the edge of the desk so I can lean on it.

  “Sorry. First impressions aren’t my strong suit.” It’s as if people have told her that so many times she simply blurts it out without thinking.

  For a moment I remain silent, then level my gaze at her. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m assuming you’re in a gang called the Disciples.” Her hands gesture to my cut.

  The room crackles with sexual energy. “It’s a motorcycle club.” My tone must alert her that she fucked up because she looks down at her ballet slippers, which are worn at the tips.

  “God.” She looks at the ceiling and back at me. “I’m messing this all up. I came in here to ask for another chance to convince you I have what it takes.”

  I push off the desk and move in front of her. “You don’t. Thanks for coming. I—”

  “Antoinette.”

  She throws her hands up. “That’s my real name… but I would prefer Candy.”

  “Again, Cookie, you don’t have what it takes. I don’t want to be a dick, but someone needs to tell you the truth. You have no tits. Your body looks like it needs ten pounds of pasta. And you don’t want to take off your clothes. Which is a necessity here. We’re full nude.” I say all this waiting for her to start crying or screaming and leave. But she stands firm.

  She faces me, her chest heaving. A pink flush spreads up to her neck. But her head is high, her shoulders are back, and her eyes are clear. I blink at her. Who is this woman?

  “I deserve a chance to prove to you that I will not only be a huge asset, I’ll be your best stripper. No tits and all.” She spits out the last part.

  Fierce comes to mind. She’s like a fierce, mythical princess. God damn that Ripper and this particular blend of Plain Jane. It has to be the weed that’s making me respond this way. That’s the only reason I would move closer to her. She’s dangerous. Her unique vanilla-citrus scent seems to be my weakness, like kryptonite was to Superman.

  Christ.

  “You seriously think you can handle scumbags who want to touch you, scream at you, jerk off to you? Because that’s what happens.”

  Her eyes narrow. “One hundred percent.”

  I cock my head, and our eyes lock. She’s determined; I’ll give her that. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Cookie.”

  “Candy.”

  I pull the chair out from the corner and sit. “Make me feel like I’m the only man in the world. You do that, the job is yours.” Stretching my arms behind my head, I wait for her to make her next move. Absently, I think this is the first time in years someone has me not quite sure what to expect.

  “Do you have music?”

  “No.”

  “Should we go back to the stage? I think music helps.”

  “Now or never.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “I need music.”

  My mouth twitches because this waifish princess is the only person in my world who argues with me, and I’ve only known her for an hour or so.

  “Fine.” I lean forward grabbing my phone. “Do you have anything in particular besides Flashdance?”

  “‘Love on the Brain’ by Rihanna,” she blurts. I raise an eyebrow and stay quiet since her cheeks are already pink.

  The soulful sound of the music starts. “Let’s see you what you got, Cookie.”

  She’s so graceful. Her body sways, like this is what she was made for. In a flash, she spins, spreads her legs, and rotates her hips, her perfect, toned ass in my face.

  “Jesus,” I hiss. This was a mistake and needs to stop now.

  She bends down to grab her ankles and stands on her toes. Her exquisite face glows as she looks at me through her spread legs and says, “Candy.”

  I don’t know if it’s the fucking beauty mark taunting me or if it’s because she’s on her toes, but my cock is hard. Hard like I have to adjust myself. Hard like I’m back in middle school and the hot cheerleader is letting me finger her in the boys’ bathroom hard.

  She whips around and both of her hands rest on her ass as she grinds and rotates her hips to the music. Then she spins, pirouettes, whatever. I barely breathe as I realize I’m fucked.

  This woman was made to be worshipped. She’s got it. And by it I mean a presence, a sexuality that becomes unleashed when she dances. She’s mesmerizing, like a sorceress casting spells. The music pauses as she stops and kicks my legs apart to stand in the middle of them. Her hands slide over her flat muscled stomach teasing me as she slowly removes her shirt.

  And I’m done.

  I reach up to her waist to gently move her back. But as soon as I touch her, my mind is gone. My hard cock has decided to rule. Her skin is soft yet tight thanks to her firm dancer’s body.

  “Fuck.” I bring her close. Her small, firm breasts stand proud with fucking rosy, hard nipples. Instead of pulling away, she rocks her hips. Her right nipple is right there, begging me to suck. I dig my hands into her hips, causing her to stop as I bring her to me. My tongue slowly licks her hard bud.

  “You’re not allowed to let anyone touch you,” I growl, taking in her dazed eyes.

  “Then let go,” she groans, lacing her hands in my hair as she moves her fucking hips to the music again.

  “I’ve seen enough.” My thumb rubs her other nipple, but if I don’t stop now, I’ll never stop. She weighs nothing as I lift her up to stand, but she’s stronger than I anticipate and spins so her ass sits right on my erection. She hesitates and that’s when I should push her away.

  I should.

  Instead I wrap my hands around her stomach, pulling her tight to my chest. She arches her back so that she can grind on me. Her lips go into my neck. Her harsh breathing makes my cock leak.

  “Jesus Christ.” I inhale through my nose. I’m trying to be professional, but I’m getting ready to break the rules and toss her on the desk.

  I want her. I definitely want this one. My hands trail up her torso to cup her breasts and she freezes. Pinching her nipples, I’m like a starved man, which is absurd since I came a few hours ago.

  “Wait,” she moans.

  “Take off your dance shorts,” I grunt as I leave her tits and roughly guide her hips on my aching cock. “Take them off, baby. I’m gonna fuck you.”

  “Oh my God.” She hops up with so much force she almost falls f
orward. She catches herself and spins to face me, eyes wild, as if she’s only now figured out what’s happening.

  “I… I can’t. I mean, I don’t… do that.” Her violet eyes pool with tears as if she’s having some sort of internal battle. But it’s enough to snap my brain back to working.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I snarl. This has never happened, ever.

  “Nothing,” she yells. The song ends and all that remains is our heavy breathing and the realization she might be out of her mind.

  Perfect.

  I clear my voice and reach for my cigarettes as I rub my throbbing cock. Lighting up, I turn to her. She stands there, her hands covering her breasts.

  “Get dressed,” I say, my voice tight.

  She bends and grabs her top, slipping it on, her eyes darting from my face to the bulge in my pants. “I assume I got the job?” Her voice cracks.

  I start laughing. It figures my cock would want the crazy one. “Talk to Crystal.” I grab my phone and keys, needing to get away from her and the club. Fresh air and a bottle of Wild Turkey will block out this fucking day.

  I start my bike and text Jessamine to meet me at the clubhouse. I need her Southern drawl and red lips to relax me.

  ANTOINETTE

  Mitchell slams the door so hard I sink into the chair—it’s still warm from him. “What have I done?”

  I sit for a moment, trying to pull it together. That was a disaster. Did I almost…?

  “Oh God,” I groan and cover my face. The makeup I put on earlier is probably a mess and rubbing my face has got to be making it worse. Who cares. I almost… with the hot owner.

  Breathing heavily, I bolt up and pace around the room. My eyes catch movement on one of the monitors. It’s him. I watch him like a stalker watches their obsession. He stops for a moment, texts someone, and leaves. Power should be his middle name. He commands everything, including me, I guess. What happened?

  My mind goes over the last ten minutes and I want to die of embarrassment. I’m a professional dancer, and this is a job that can save me. Why would I beg him, seduce him with my moves, then freak when he responds?

  “Because you’re a virgin and clearly a socially stunted person,” I mumble. Sighing, I look up at the ceiling. That was… I don’t even know what that was. All I know is I wanted him. No, I needed him to touch me. It was like my very life depended on it.

  I reach to adjust my G-string. It’s soaked. “Oh God.” I’m so wet that it’s leaked onto my dance shorts. Thank goodness they’re black. “Pull it together, Antoinette. He’s the owner of the club.” Great, I’m talking to myself and my hands are shaking. I rub them up and down my shorts then reach up to check my hair, trying to calm myself.

  I should walk out these doors and never come back. Mitchell must think I’m insane. Do I care? Not really. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. Plus, I’m broke and had a moment of weakness. I know for a fact that I have nothing to worry about. It’s not like I’ll be attracted to any other man. Trust me, I’m shocked I responded to Mitchell.

  I’m still a virgin. Haven’t found anyone I’ve liked enough to let them do it. And I’m going to stay a virgin since that guy is off limits seeing as he’s about to become my boss. I’m not here for a relationship. I’m here to make rent, pay bills, and eat food.

  He said ask Crystal, and Crystal said yes. I take another breath; I can do this. Opening the door, I head toward the stairs to get my bag and confirm this with her.

  She’s smoking and laughing with some girls I was auditioning with. I square my shoulders as I approach.

  “Crystal?”

  She turns, and her eyes narrow. My cheeks flood with heat. I’m being ridiculous. She can’t possibly know what happened.

  “Hi.” I smile, but it’s forced. My lip twitches. “So, Mitchell said yes.”

  Technically, it’s not a lie. He said to ask Crystal and she said yes. Again, all the girls stop talking and look at each other.

  Crystal arches a red brow. “Is that so? Well, if Mitchell said yes, then yes it is.” She inhales and blows smoke up at the ceiling.

  Something is up with this woman, but again, it’s not like I have to be best friends with her. I nod, pretending like I don’t notice the other girls whispering and laughing. It’s always like this with me. I never fit in.

  “Cookie.” I jump at Crystal’s shrill voice. God, she scared me. She rolls her eyes but continues. “This is Cat, but we’re calling her Frenchie, Roxy, and Sapphire.” She points at each girl. Then she turns to me. “So glad you changed your name to Cookie because at first I was worried about having two Sapphires.”

  She smiles and I almost tell her she still has red lipstick on her teeth, but she’s not nice. In fact, she’s a bit of a bitch.

  “Now go fill out your application and I want all correct information. If you have to lie, then this is not the place for you.”

  “O-kay.” My eyes scan the other girls. They all kind of look the same. There’s a definite theme here. All of them have fake boobs and long hair that looks like they all use too much hair dye. The one named Cat at least smiles at me. The others act like I’m not worthy.

  “Here.” She hands me a new application. “And be here tomorrow at three p.m. Don’t be late. If you’re late, I will fire you. Also, I do not put up with drugs or sleeping with customers.” She keeps talking, but I’m the only one who seems to be listening.

  At last, she stops and I go to grab my bag. “And Cookie?”

  I straighten and turn. “Yes, well, actually I was thinking I’d be Candy…” My voice drifts as she frowns.

  “Figure out your name. Also, Mitchell is not usually around. But he’s here for the next couple of weeks. So, let me be frank. No fucking the owner. It makes you look like a whore and it’s not good for morale.” She looks down at her long fake nails that are so pointy I’m sure she uses them as a weapon.

  “I’m not fuc—sleeping with him,” I whisper as I look at the other girls.

  She stares at me. “Good. See you tomorrow. And Candy?” I take a breath and hope she’ll be easier to deal with the longer I get to know her.

  “Yes?”

  “Show up a couple hours early and I’ll give you some pointers on how to use the pole.” That surprises me. See? Maybe she’s not a bitch after all.

  “Thank you.” I turn and rush downstairs. Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes and let it sink in that I did it.

  I freakin’ did it.

  For the first time, I have a little hope. Maybe I’ll be able to buy some food for my refrigerator and have money to do laundry. I don’t ask for much—only enough to get by. Opening my eyes, I admire the huge stage as I reach down to unzip my dance bag and pull on some sweatpants.

  The décor is super elegant and classy. All the tables are heavy dark wood and the couches are red and soft looking.

  I’m excited, and it has zero to do with my boss. The breast he licked tingles. That flutter of adrenaline spikes in my stomach, causing my face to heat up and my core to get slick. This is wrong, so very wrong. He won’t even be around in two weeks. All I need to do is make the money and open a savings account. I’ll never be this poor again.

  I roll my neck and notice the large crystal chandelier. It has tons of lights pointed at it. I bet it makes the stage glitter like rainbows. I’m almost tempted to leap up on it and try out one of the poles.

  I’m going to blow him away. Make him go crazy with want for me. I make a vow right now that the hot, tattooed owner won’t know what hit him when he sees me rock this stage.

  I visualize his eyes as they narrow on me, and I walk toward him while removing my top—no, I rip it off for him, only him. He reaches for me and I leap into his arms, kind of like Dirty Dancing but better, hotter…

  My phone rings. “Jesus.” I jump and frantically dig for it before Bella hangs up since she’s the only one who calls me. Figures it’s in the bottom of the bag stuck in one of my tennis shoes. I need to go through and clean i
t out. Maybe one day soon I’ll have enough money to get a new one and fill it with new stuff.

  “Hello.” I sit down in a booth. “Hello?”

  “It’s about time, biotch,” Bella yells as she cuts in and out. I sigh as I lean to untie my poor worn pointe shoes. They’re barely holding up. I need new ones. I guess I’ll add that to the endless list of things I need. Tossing them into my bag, I slip on my tennis shoes.

  “Bella, hold on. I can barely hear you.” Standing up, I grab my bag and make sure all my stuff is not on the floor as I head toward the door.

  Thank God I have good news to tell her. If not, I might have let it go to voice mail. The humiliation about my lack of progress has become like an elephant in the room with Bella and me.

  “Holy shit,” she screams through the phone. “I swear to God I’ve been calling you for days. Why didn’t you call me back?”

  “I’m so sorry.” Squinting, I adjust to the bright sun after leaving the darkness of the club. “Don’t kill me… but shit is going on and I didn’t want to bum you out.”

  Silence greets me. I look around at my options for getting home. Besides a couple of Harley Davidsons, there’s not much in the parking lot.

  I guess I have to take the bus. I start to run across the street to catch it. See, this is when I wish I had extra cash and could Uber home.

  “Bella?” I look both ways as I wave my arms at the driver to wait. I’ve found waving and jumping in front of bus drivers tends to make them stop. He opens the door and I smile as I dart in and sit.

  “I’m still here.”

  Thankfully the bus is almost empty and the few who are here are wearing earbuds and staring out the window.

  “So, here’s the deal. Heather decided out of the blue to move in with her loser boyfriend.” I lower my voice as I heave my dance bag onto the empty seat next to me.

  “She told me a couple of days ago. Wait—that’s not true. I happened to come home early and found her and a creepy guy moving her shit out. That’s why I was avoiding your calls because I know money is tight. But I think I might have saved us and we don’t have to get another roomie.”