Page 19 of Forbidden Hearts

Friends don’t steal from friends.

I don’t really care to question their friendship. I don’t know their personal history, but obviously Jacob doesn’t see Alonzo as a friend. He’s going to backstab him for money. And I don’t care. I need the money to take care of Mom and escape this town, and never set foot at The Den again.

Still, it’s messed up for Jacob to offer me up like a piece of meat. Alonzo is attractive and easy on the eye, but what if he wasn’t? What if he was another old, smelly reaper?

“You offered me up like a pimp?”

Jacob chuckles. “Please. Pimps get paid. I’m just doing both of us a favor.”

“Uh-huh,” I mutter.

“Don’t be difficult, Alex. Just give him a nice dance. Drive him a little crazy, and we’ll both be rolling in cash soon. Since I told him my office is off limits, you’ll have to give him the dance in here.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “If I hadn’t fucked you already, I would’ve envied the man.”

A knot tightens in my throat.

It’s hard to breathe every time I remember I’ve slept with Jacob. I’m ready to leave town as soon as I find Alonzo’s money. I don’t want to stay in this town another second, not when Jacob and his men know everything that happens here.

With the money, I can transfer to another university. It’ll be a drag—and a little complicated—to transfer during my senior year, but I don’t want to deal with Jacob anymore. He’ll still know where I live even if I stop working for him.

I want to get the hell out of here with my mom.

“I promised him a dance,” Jacob says as he heads for the door. “But if you fancy showing him a good time, that’s on you.”

The door closes behind him, and I drop my arms to my sides. A few minutes later, Alonzo walks in and my heart drops. I cover myself again.

Alonzo stands by the door, looking at me dead in the eyes, then drops his gaze to the rest of my body. His hungry eyes burn against my skin. It’s not an unpleasant feeling.

When he finally moves, he grabs a chair by the back wall and slides it to the center of the room, next to the lockers. He sits onit with his legs spread open, maintaining eye contact as he does all this.

I don’t know why Jacob thought it was a good idea for Alonzo to see me dancing at the club, but what if it makes our ulterior motives too obvious? What if Alonzo suspects that Jacob and I are up to something nefarious? I mean, shit, what are the odds that his flirty student works at the same biker club where he conducts clandestine business in?

Or maybe he’s just a clueless pervert who wants a dance, like every other reaper in the club.

Whatever the reason is, I have to dance for him. And I have to find that money. Not for Jacob,fuckJacob, but for Mom and me. This dance is the first step to a better life.

I drop my arms to my sides, allowing him to look at my breasts. This bikini top does wonders for my chest. It lifts them up and pushes them slightly together. Maybe that’s why it’s the fan favorite and not so much the flag theme.

My face burns hot when Alonzo’s eyes fall to my chest. Sure, I’ve been dancing at the club for months now, but I’ve never given a private dance before. This feels more like something a stripper would do, and I’m not a stripper. I don’t have the confidence for it. Dancing in tiny bikinis is the extent of what I do, and that in itself makes me feel naked sometimes.

Being alone and up close with Alonzo in a small, dimly lit room feels very different from being on stage. When I’m on stage, the overhead lights sometimes hit my eyes at the right angle and momentarily blind me to the sea of men looking up at me. For those few seconds, I can pretend I’m someplace else.

But standing a few feet away from where Alonzo sits feels much more intimate than being on the stage. His piercing brown eyes make me feel like he can see through my bikini, sending a tingling sensation down my chest that settles around my nipples.

He’ll have to see you naked at one point,I remind myself, not entirely bemoaning the fact.

I close the gap between us and circle around his chair, momentarily getting a break from his heavy stare. But I know I can’t hide behind him for too long without being weird. I count to five in my head before circling back in front of him.

I give him my back, pacing to the door and swinging my hips from side to side. Men love that. When I turn to face him, his eyes are no longer on mine. Instead, they trace my curves, and for a moment, a warm feeling pools between my legs, causing me to blush again. Luckily, the lights are dim, so I doubt he can see my face reddening.

Shit, am I really enjoying this? Why is my body reacting this way?

I know the answer. Alonzo is handsome. At the end of the day, I’m dancing to an attractive man who wants my full attention. It’s a huge ego boost.

Stretching my arms in the air, I twist my hips to show him my backside again. Excited electricity travels to my extremities, lingering between my thighs. Even with my back to him, I can feel his burning stare on my body. It burnshot.

There’s no denying it. It’s exciting having a dangerous and stupidly handsome man crave my body.

For a brief moment, I forget the real reason I’m dancing for him. When the realization hits me, I begin to wonder if there’s something wrong with me. Is there a part of me that I have yet to uncover? A part that craves dangerous excitement?

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