Page 38 of Scattered Glitter

What do I do?

My gaze flicks between the twins. Levi still looks amused while Koen stands with his arms crossed over his chest, tilting his head in a challenge.

I sigh and walk over to the wall, pressing the button to start up the music. The familiar bassline kicks in, filling the room with a slow, pulsing rhythm. Reluctantly, I turn back toward Koen, my body moving as if on autopilot, but this time, it’s of my own accord. I hate the idea of dancing for them, but it’s not the first time I’ve done shit I hate to survive.

I reach for him, aiming to push him back onto the couch like I’ve done a hundred other times with a hundred different men. My hand gets close, but before I can make contact, Koen raises his palm and steps back, freezing me in place. “No.”

Levi takes that as his cue, sinking onto the velvet couch, his grin widening as he watches the tension coil inside me. “Me. Me, me! Take me!” I huff but move toward him, and he chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of this.

Levi’s grin only widens as I straddle him and sink onto his lap, my hips moving to the slow rhythm of the music. Hesmells divine—a zesty blend of citrus and green apple spiced with warm ginger. “Damn, I’ve never had a lap dance.” He snickers, his voice vibrating through his chest, close enough that I can feel it under my hands. “I always wanted to see the Chippendales, but this… this is way better.”

I roll my eyes, though a small smile ghosts across my lips despite myself. I’ve always liked him when I’ve seen him on television, unapologetic, never giving a fuck what anyone else thinks.

It’s a pity he’ll be one of the reasons I end up in jail tonight.

As I move against him, his hands slide to my waist, fingers pressing just enough to make their presence known. It’s almost automatic when I say loudly, “Look, don’t touch.”

The velvet curtain is ripped open, and when I turn to look, I see Carl’s eyes immediately locking on Levi’s hands at my hips.

“Hands off!” he barks, cutting through the music.

Levi immediately lifts his hands into the air in mock surrender. “Sorry!”

Carl’s expression doesn’t soften. “I don’t care if you’re a celebrity. Touch one of the girls again, and I’ll kick your ass so hard out of here, you won’t just be a star anymore… you’ll be seeing them.”

Levi’s grin is back with full force. “Yes,sir.”

His bulge grows unmistakably hard beneath me, and I smile to myself. “Chill, Carl. He’s not interested in what I’m offering, and honestly, I don’t mind him touching me.”

Right. I can’t lie.

“There’s no straight bone in this body, honey,” Levi agrees. Carl narrows his eyes for a moment, then huffs, stepping back and pulling the curtain closed again. The moment he’s gone,Levi bursts out laughing. “Holy shit, that was hot. I’m so into broody and bossy. Is he single?”

“I have no fucking clue,” I say, resuming the dance.

Levi’s hands come to rest casually on my thighs now, his fingers tracing small circles as I sway to the beat, letting my body move even as my mind races.

“So, why’d you alert him if you don’t mind me touching you?” Levi’s voice is light, almost teasing.

“Reflex,” I mutter, focusing on the rhythm beneath my skin, trying to lose myself in it.

If this is my last lap dance before I go to jail, I should make it good, right?

Levi’s fingers glide up to the curve of my waist, a gentle pressure, never pushing too far, not sexual but almost soothing.

“A reflex like the stealing?” Koen asks from where he hovers in my peripheral vision.

I close my eyes, desperate to block them both out, to let the music take over. “Yes.”

Levi chuckles lowly beneath me, his fingers now idly tracing the glitter dusted across my skin. He follows a line from my collarbone to my right shoulder, but then his fingers pause over the burn scar hidden beneath the glitter, and I freeze. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps tracing as if he’s feeling out the story instead of asking for it.

“Why are you stripping?” Koen’s voice pushes into the silence, dragging me back and making me open my eyes.

“It’s the only thing I’m good at.” The words come out flat, but they’re the truth.

“You really believe that?”

“Yes.”

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