His lip twitched. “What am I going to do with you, mouse?”
“I have a few ideas,” I muttered as my eyes hooded and I pressed my lips to his, loving the way his tongue dipped in to stroke mine.
And then he was gone. Nas, rolling her eyes, pulled me away and called out, “Geez. Break it up. We’ve got shit to do. You can eye-fuck each other from across the floor, capisce?”
I took my place at the bar. The deejay Sasha had hired played soft RnB throughout the club until things got started. Sasha made his way into the bar, smirking to himself, and came straight for me. He looked excited when he stated, “The line is already three blocks down.” He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Three fucking blocks down.” He pointed a finger at me, smiling as he inclined his head, and then walked away.
I wasn’t sure what that meant.
Sasha was weird.
Half an hour later, and we all took our places, the door opened, and the club began to fill. Once we reached capacity, the door closed once more, and Nas, Anika, and I were run off our feet with flyers for free drinks on entry. We no longer served people at tables or booths. If you wanted a drink, you needed to come to us.
The lights dimmed. The deejay turned down the music, and then he spoke, “Good evening, ladies and gentleman, and welcome to the grand opening of Bleeding Hearts Burlesque.”
The crowd cheered, and I was surprised at the amount of women in the crowd. The deejay waited for the cheer to die down before he went on, “We hope you enjoy what we have to offer. Our girls are dying to meet you.”
The spotlights beamed front and center, and we waited with bated breath.
The deejay’s voice deepened huskily as he announced, “Ladies and gents, I give you…” He paused for effect. The curtains began to open. “…The Diamond Dozen!”
The twelve girls on stage looked like dolls sitting on wooden chairs. Each dressed in a different color of the same costume, the same costume the bar girls were wearing. The bass boomed as The Weeknd’s “The Hills” came to life. It was a slow, sexy song that allowed the girls to show off their moves. It was a song about a torrid affair a woman was having with an addict. The girls moved in sync, working with the chair, gyrating against them, and wolf whistles came from all over.
I saw women watch them, mesmerized, and men gaze adoringly at our girls. When Birdie hired the three new girls only days ago, I wondered if they would be ready in time, but I was proven wrong, and gladly at that.
As the song ended, the girls fell to the floor, faces cast, eyes open, like dolls that had been hypnotized into living by the music and falling as it ended.
The spotlight’s shut off and the curtains closed.
Then…silence.
My breath caught in my throat.
Oh no. Crap, no. They hated it!
My cheeks flushed a moment before the crowd went wild, standing and cheering at the top of their lungs. Whistles and eager roars went out through the air around us, and my heart boomed in my chest. I could safely say that was the scariest moment in my life.
Nas pulled me into her, squealing in my ear and rocking me side-to-side. A chuckle caught in my throat, and then I laughed hard, clutching at her. Then something happened, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes.
My throat tight, I blinked them away.
Everything was going to be okay now. I felt it deep inside me.
Bleeding Hearts would live to a ripe old age.
As people left, others took their places. The club remained at full capacity all night long, and some time after eleven, I received guests. As soon as I saw them, I made my way around the bar, rushing over to my brother and hugging him around the middle before placing a kiss to Uncle Laredo’s cheek. “You came!”
Laredo smiled, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me to his side. “I couldn’t miss my niece’s big night.”
I reached for Alessio’s hand and squeezed. “I’m so glad you’re here.”