Page 2 of Kiss of Death
Everyone and everything faded away while he watched her work that damn pole like it was an extension of her. He wished it was him she was wrapping her legs around, grinding her hips against. She was seductive in a subtle way—where you didn’t know what’s happening until after she sank her teeth into your flesh and drained you of your blood.
Otto knew he should look away, but he couldn’t stop himself—he was enthralled by the way she moved. She held him captive in her rhythm, and he wondered if he was the only one who could hear it.
He had no clue why this particular woman was pulling such a visceral reaction out of him. He was no stranger to seeing pretty women. He practically lived at Tres where flashes of tits and ass weren’t out of the norm for him. Yet, something about the woman on stage, her long hair the color of smoke, was making him stand still and take notice. She was making love up there, and it made Otto want to shut the doors of Tres Bellas permanently so he was the only one who ever had the privilege of seeing her move like that.
She turned around again, their eyes locking this time, and a small smirk teased her lips. Otto sucked in a sharp breath, and his heartbeat drummed to the beat of the song that blared through the speakers of the club. She never took her eyes off of him as she continued her dance. They were locked in this silent foreplay of the senses.
She hadn’t touched him—she couldn’t.
But every sway of her hips, every lick of her lips, every time her legs wrapped around that damn pole, he felt her on him. Her body was intertwined with his, driving him mad with a desire to consume her after she took from him everything she needed.
All too soon the song ended. She came to a stop in front of the pole and the air around them grew hotter. They continued to stare at each other—breathing heavily, like they’d just spent hours devouring one another, but Otto felt no relaxation. His body was strung tight, like a bow, waiting for the vixen on stage to release him from the torment she still held him in.
Otto became halfway aware that they weren’t the only two people in the room right now. He felt Smoke on his left and his sister on his right, and he cursed under his breath when Smoke smacked his shoulder. The asshole’s deep chuckle made him grit his teeth, and it turned into a growl of possession when he heard Smoke talk.
“Now that’s a nice piece of ass.” Otto could hear the slimy smile in Smoke’s tone, and he balled his hands into tight fists to keep from punching Smoke in his neck. “I got dibs, O,” Smoke whispered in his ear. “She looks like a good time.”
Mine.
The word was a roar inside his skull. It was a primitive and an idiotic response—one that he never had before. But everything inside of him wanted to beat Smoke till he was bloody, so he wouldn’t think to look at the woman on stage ever again.
“You know the rules, asshole.” His voice was harsh. He heard the threat in his tone and going by the widening of the woman’s eyes, she heard it too.
“As entertaining as this is,” Gia murmured beside him, “meet one of the new hires, Otto.” Her tone was laced with amusement and Otto ignored her until he realized what his sister told him.
New hire.
Otto pulled his eyes away from the woman and looked back at his sister confused. “New hire?” he mumbled. His brain was still scrambled after watching the show that was just put on for him. He tried to remember if he okayed hiring anyone recently. Thanks to Bruno’s inability to run a business, Tres had only been able to survive because of the cut it was making in the sex trafficking trade. They were barely staying afloat with the bills and paying their employees, and whoever was running with Bruno had taken a percentage out of the club as well. When Sofia took over, they were in a hole that was only cushioned because Sofia still had money ties in Columbia.
Otto turned to face his sister so his words wouldn’t carry past his sister’s ears.“We can cover this?”
Gia gave him a slight nod. “You gave me the okay a few nights ago.” Otto shook his head, remembering the conversation now. Three of their girls had quit on them right before Sofia’s take over. Otto figured a few new dancers wouldn’t hurt their budget too badly and hopefully they’d be good enough to bring in more clientele. Otto hadn’t counted on them being this good though.
Gia turned her attention to the woman on stage. “Besides, if she keeps moving like that, we’re not going to have a problem packing the place out, especially on Thursday nights.”
Ahh, Thursday nights at the club had been gentlemen’s night. It geared less toward the club vibe and more toward a lounge with pole and stage dancers as well as strippers and any private parties they wanted in one of the back rooms.
“You killed it up there, Ivy.” His sister seemed impressed with her. Otto was too, probably more so.
Ivy.
Otto let her name float around in his head. She looked nothing like the comic book character, but he had a feeling she was every bit as poisonous for him as the nickname claimed to be. That should have been enough to deter him and his cock from wanting her, but the poor bastard twitched at the thought of dying in between those mile-long legs of hers.
His gaze traveled along her body, fully taking her in now that she wasn’t making him wish he was the pole she just had her hands and body all over. She seemed short, even with the heels on. Her legs were strong, and she had ink on her ribs and a half a sleeve on her right forearm. Her hair was long, and now that the lights were back on, he could see he was right in his assessment. Her hair was grey, making it look like smoke, which seemed fitting for the fire she just set across the stage.
Otto stepped closer, holding out his hand for her. She didn’t hesitate and took his hand as he helped her step off the stage and onto the main floor they were all standing on. As soon she was on the same footing as him, she had to crane her neck up to look directly at him—she barely cleared his shoulder.
“Otto.” He gripped her hand in a firm handshake and she nodded.
“Is that short for something?” Her voice was rich, reminding him of honey, and he wanted to know if she tasted just as sweet.
“It’s short for Othello, but no one calls me that. Otto or O is fine.”
He still held her hand—it was probably borderline creepy at this point—but she didn’t pull away. In fact, she seemed just as wrapped up in him as he was in her. Her grip on his hand remained steady and her dark eyes held his. They were both locked in a silent tug of war. They seemed all too aware of the physical hold they had on one another, and they both silently dared the other to do something about it.
“This is my brother.” He could hear Gia’s smirk as she continued to speak. “He’s co-owner.” Gia chuckled beside him, and he knew he wasn’t going to hear the end of this.
Otto wasn’t behaving like himself. He was indifferent to new people—women, men, threats. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he just knew people had a way of not being themselves in the beginning. There was always something else lurking—good or bad—in the background. You just needed to be patient enough for the truth to come out. He learned that from his ex, which was more of a reason for him to pump the breaks on the sinful thoughts he was having of Ivy. She would show her true colors eventually, and good or bad he didn’t have time to worry about being burned by her because within seconds he had a feeling he had the potential to fall in deep with her or want to kill her.
