Page 84 of A Dark Duet

“I’ll be right back. Let me see what I can do,” Jake says, getting up and walking toward a tall, built man in a suit that must be the manager.

She passes by our table and when I glance up at her, my heart breaks into a million pieces. She looks at me with emptiness and hate. A darkness mixed with no emotion and a dose of pain. Kyle and Nick try to smile at her to ease the tension, but she doesn’t smile.

She just says, “I heard about your fight. Congratulations on your win.” Her head tilts in the asshole’s direction. After a few tense seconds, she says, “If you will excuse me, someone’s waiting for me.”

Before she leaves, I circle my hand around her wrist, halting her. She pulls it from my grasp like she was burned. “Don’t touch me,” she seethes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I need to talk to you.”

Her eyes narrow to slits. “I have nothing to say to you. I have no interest in hearing anything you have to say. If you want, I can have the manager of the club find someone to entertain you tonight so you can celebrate your win. He can also include your friends. Would you like one, two, or three girls in the room?”

My jaw clenches in annoyance. “Whatever I can have with you is what I want.”

She quirks a brow. “There is only one person on my list, and he doesn’t share.”

The mention of a man in her VIP list that she must be fucking has me seeing red. Jealousy rearing its ugly head because I know it’s that asshole Ethan Carter.

Giving her a challenging smirk, I say, “Then I guess he will have to make an exception.”

Her eyes flash in a dark challenge.

Jake returns and his eyes widen when he spots Brie. “Hi,” he says to her nervously.

“Hello, Jake,” she says as the man that must be the manager walks up to her.

She looks at the man that must be the manager and then at me, knowing I was already ahead of myself. I’m wearing a black hoodie and I pull my sleeve up and show him a glimpse of my tattoo and his eyes widen. He recognizes it like I knew he would because, like I said, we know who really runs this type of club.

“Coco, Jaden ‘The Destroyer’ Cyprus has respectfully requested a room for a private dance.”

“No problem, Marcus. Please let Ethan know I will see him tomorrow.” My face contorts in rage at her mentioning the man by his first name.

“Let’s go, Champ,” she says.

She doesn’t address me by my first name, and my stomach sinks. Fuck. Rising from my seat, I follow her as she sashays toward a long dark hallway with blood red carpet and dark-brown wood molding. This area doesn’t smell of stale cigars but like a designer boutique with expensive perfume and champagne.

She opens a discreet room that leads into a comfortable area with a velvet sofa and a minimalistic table. To the left, there is a private dance pole. There is also a chaise big enough to lie down on and my eyes are taking in the room that is also equipped with a panic button. I inwardly sigh with relief that she could at least call for help if she was ever back here and someone was trying to hurt her. She motions for me to sit on the couch and a knock is heard from the door. She walks over to open it and a woman walks in with a tray, placing it on the small table to the side of the couch and quickly leaves.

“Would you care for a drink before we start?”

“No. I want to talk.”

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say unless it’s regarding the rules. If you are not interested in the lap dance. I can fetch someone else, or I can quietly leave.”

The muscle in my jaw tics faster. The blood in my veins boiling, but if I’m to keep her here and not back out there, I’ll take in the pleasure of having her on top of me.

“What are the rules?” I ask.

“Your pants have to be left on, but you can take off your shirt. You can touch me if I allow it.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

I smirk. “Allow me to touch you. You were very jumpy earlier when I grabbed your wrist, and I don’t want to break the rules. Since this is a different setting. I want to make sure you are comfortable with me touching you,” I say, looking around the room at what it has to offer.

Her breathing increases as she contemplates her next answer. Her expression is blank as she stands before me, looking down while I sit looking up at her.

Her light eyes turn dark and its not with lust or desire. It’s with the same coldness I saw earlier when she was on stage.

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