Page 161 of Fallen Omega

“You need to pay your keep, to pay for your protection. You won’t sing? Then you’ll strip.”

“No.” She heads to the door.

I’m on my feet fast and I slam it shut, keeping my hand on it. “The answer’s yes.”

“I’m not stripping,” she says, looking up as unwanted desire sparks in her eyes.

I feel it too. Cock hardening and the nasty thoughts coming in fast. Fuck.

“Good. Because I’m telling you to sing.”

“And strip.”

“No, I’m not actually asking you to fucking strip, Angel.” I stop. “Not much.”

“Let me out.”

I grab her hand and open the door, dragging her up the stairs and into the club. Darcy’s doing inventory and two deltas are cleaning.

“Everyone out,” I snarl.

The two deltas scram, but Darcy just looks at me.

“You too.”

She crosses her arms. “Leave the kid alone.”

“Liz is fine. Aren’t you, Angel?” I give her hand a squeeze.

She takes a beat, then says, “Yes.”

“Now, go, Darcy. I need the space.” I turn my back on her, knowing she’ll go and motion to the stage. “Get the fuck up there and sing.”

“N-No.” Lizette trembles but she stands her ground. “I need music. And what’s this about stripping, even a little?”

“G-rated.” I pick up the tablet and go to the karaoke music site. “Do you know Queen of Pain?”

“No.”

I hand her the device. “Get up there, press play, and sing along. And G-rated is taking off some pieces. Maybe down to silk, boy-cut shorts and a balconette. You’d be covered. Nothing showing. I don’t want men ogling you.”

“Just you?”

She’s gotten some balls since I fucked her face. “No,” I drawl, going around the bar to get a drink. She looks at the bottle so I pour her one. “I’m fair. Reaper and Knight can ogle you, too.”

“Gee, thanks.”

I ignore the fucking sarcasm. Instead, I cross the floor and hand her a drink. “Courage from a bottle.”

She downs it, and grimaces.

I nod to the stage. “Go. And you can keep your clothes on. This is your chance to make money, prove you can be the hidden gem, the star attraction.”

Settling back at one of the tables, I set my drink down as she presses play. There’s a microphone that isn’t used, but more for show. This time it’s on and I’ve got it and the tablet tapped into the sound system.

She starts to sing, really sing, and her voice is utterly perfect, each note. But as she gets into it, her voice changes, loosens, becomes a soaring thing that’s alive. Even without moving, she’s mesmerizing. The music takes her, and soon she’s moving, her hips swaying, and I’m lost in her.

When the song ends, I can’t breathe.

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