Page 10 of Red My Lips

Either way, I’m almost done for the night. After I finish here and I’m off the clock, I’m getting out of this outfit and letting loose.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, alerting me to a notification. Pulling it out of the back pocket of my jeans, I see it’s a text from Lana.

Lovie: We’re here. Christos got us the Sinner’s Suite. Now get your big beautiful ass out here so the party can start!

I can’t help but laugh. I wasn’t planning on staying out tonight after my shift, but Lana insisted. She demanded I meet up with her and Christos after their dinner so her boy toy could buy us bottles and treat us to the VIP experience. It’s not nearly the first time one of our dates has taken us out to ‘treat’ us—it’s usually a requirement for Lana to even consider letting them take her out in the first place—but I’m never one to say no to a good time on someone else’s dime. Especially if Lana’s going to be there.

I send her a quick text to give me twenty minutes to clock out and change, and I’ll meet her at the table. Clocking out on the computer and saying goodbye to the other bartender, Jordan, I weave my way through the club toward the dressing room.

Stripping out of my work clothes, I wish I could take a shower to wash my work off before I play. But that’s not an option, so I pull out the packet of baby wipes I keep in my locker to scrub myself down before I get dressed.

Gotta stay fresh.

The dress I brought to change into is a slinky gunmetal gray number with thick spaghetti straps, a square neckline that cuts low across my breasts, and a tie that sinches in my cleavage. The corset bodice accentuates the curve of my waist, the short skirt flairs around my full hips and flutters to just below my round ass. The heels I picked for tonight are chunky black knee-high platform boots with a five-inch heel.

I love these boots; they’re fun, sexy as hell, and remind me of the shoes my Bratz dolls had when I was growing up. They also bring me from my five-foot-seven-inch height to a full six feet tall—and I like being tall. I’m a statement that can’t be ignored.

I lean over the vanity and reapply my lipstick in the mirror. The deep maroon color is rich and vampy, drawing the attention my full lips deserve. Swiping the color on my skin fills me with the same power I felt last night, and the exhilaration makes me smile.

Red my lips, Jonas. And rot in hell.

Popping the cap back on with a click, I unzip my makeup bag to toss the tube back in. It clinks against the other tube inside, one that’s a true vibrant red—Carter. They can get cozy in there together. More will be joining them soon enough.

A few swipes of anti-chafe stick to the insides of my thighs, and a spritz of my favorite sultry perfume are the finishing touches before I’m off to meet my best friend.

The Sinner’s Suite is a private table on an elevated platform above the dancefloor with the other VIP Gold tables. My best friend is sitting with a fit man dressed to the nines. Lana stands from the curved red velvet sofa to meet me at the bottom of the stairs.

“There you are! I was about to come find you, you look gorgeous,” she gushes, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the table. “Come get some champagne. We got the good stuff. And you have to meet Christos. He’s dying to meet you.”

“He’s dying to meet me?” I repeat with some added skepticism. From the way Lana has talked about him, the only two things the man is obsessed with are her and himself.

“Duh! I never shut up about you, so it’s only fair that he gets to meet the real love of my life.” Lana looks over her shoulder to flash me a wink and blow me a kiss, making me laugh.

“Alright then,” I say, flipping my hair over my shoulder. “Let’s go meet my competition.”

It’s Lana’s turn to laugh as we approach the table. She leans in closer, lowering her voice as much as she can with the music.

“Trust me, babe, there’s no competition.” Her smile turns dreamy. “Although, he does call me his ‘star’. Astéri.” With that, she turns on her megawatt smile and addresses the man of the hour—greeting him like they’ve been apart for weeks instead of minutes. “Christos! Hi, baby.”

Christos pulls Lana in for a kiss, his arm circling her waist to rest on her round hip. When he pulls back, he turns to focus on me. His thick black hair is styled back from his chiseled face, perfectly suited for his bronze complexion and mediterranean features. He’s tall, meeting my eyeline in my heels, and I can tell that he’s well-built—and from what Lana’s told me, well endowed. There aren’t any labels on his clothes, but there’s no question that they’re designer—he has real money, it’s not just for show.

“This is my other half, Jill,” Lana says brightly.

“Hi,” I say with a smile.

“Jill, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Christos’ whiskey-brown eyes sweep over me from head to toe, and he gives a little nod of appreciation.

He’s obviously obsessed with Lana’s plus-size body, so I’m not too surprised that he finds me attractive in some way too. I have no problem being appreciated by a man, especially as handsome and rich as Christos is.

But if he’s looking for a threesome, that’s not going to happen. I don’t fuck with my best friend—I value our friendship too much to jeopardize it for a messy ménage à trois. Christos is Lana’s boy toy, so letting him buy me a night of drinks and dancing is as far as I’ll ever go.

“Let’s get you some champagne,” Christos announces, gesturing over a bottle girl named Remi to fill a glass for me. As I accept the glass and take a generous sip, Christos continues. “Lana said you just got off work, and I figured you might be hungry, so I had some sushi delivered.”

Some is not the word to describe the amount of sushi arranged on the table in front of me. Between the assortment of sushi rolls, sashimi, nigiri, and temaki, he clearly ordered one of everything on the menu. I lift my eyes from the table to meet Lana’s, and she nods—a delighted sparkle in her pretty hazel eyes.

“I don’t like very many people, Christos. But you’re off to a good start.” I reach for a piece of an unagi roll and eat it in one bite. A proud grin lights up Christos’ face when my eyes roll back in exaggerated appreciation at the flavor.

That is damn good.

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