Chapter 2: LIQUID COURAGE

SAGE

I approached him like the fox I had learned to be, letting my hips sway with the music that vibrated through the club.

He sat in the corner of the VIP section like a king on a throne, sprawled back against the black leather with one arm draped over the seat.

His gaze was still fixed on me. But unlike the excitement I was used to when customers saw me, his eyes were cold. Completely, utterly cold.

Not the usual hunger I saw in men's eyes. Not lust, excitement or even mild interest.

Just... nothing.

Great.

I gestured toward one of the red rooms, the private booths with their velvet curtains in a inviting-gesture.

He didn't even follow my fingers.

From across the floor, I caught Marcus's eye. He gave me a look that silently instructed me to make this work at all cost, before disappearing into his office.

Perfect. So now I had to convince this ice sculpture of a man to accept something I didn't even want to give.

I studied him as I closed the distance between us. Mid-to-late twenties, pale olive skin, dark hair that looked like he had run his hands through it one too many times.

Expensive suit, tailored and it probably cost more than my rent for three years or about.

But it was his eyes that made my skin prickle.

Like he could see right through the mask straight to the desperate girl underneath.

Trouble. This man was pure trouble.

But you need that debt cleared, Sage. I reminded myself.

I reached him, leaning down slightly so he could see the curve of my body in the red lace.

"Private dance?" My voice came out husky. "Just you and me?"

"No."

My jaw tightened, but I kept the fake princess smile in place.

"Come on. You look like you could use some... relaxation."

"I'm fine where I am."

Stubborn bastard.

Fine. If he wanted to play difficult, I could work with that.

I slipped off my coat, letting it pool at my feet, and before he could protest, I straddled him right there in the VIP section.

His whole body went rigid.

"What the hell are you—"

"Shh." I pressed a finger to his lips, feeling the warmth of his breath against my skin. "Just relax."

He grunted, his hands gripping the armrests like he was physically restraining himself from throwing me off.

Then his gaze shifted over my shoulder.

I followed his line of sight to a blonde man with warm brown eyes sitting a few seats away, grinning like an idiot. The man gave an enthusiastic thumbs up and mouthed something to him. Since I was an outcast, I hadn't really built up my hearing, so it was pretty much like a human's.

"So are we..."

He stood up without warning, with me still in his lap.

Oh.

My hands flew to his shoulders for balance as he rose effortlessly, holding my weight like I was nothing. Like I weighed absolutely nothing.

This man was strong. Very strong.

His hands were on my waist as he set me down on my feet like I was a child's painted porcelain doll.

"Lead the way," he grumbled.

I cleared my throat and dusted invisible dirt off my dress.

Every instinct I had was screaming at me to not do it.

Something about this man wasn't sitting right.

But fifteen thousand dollars was fifteen thousand dollars.

And Granny needed her medication.

So I pushed through the velvet curtain into the dimly lit private room and gave my ginger wig a light shake for volume.

××××

He stepped in behind me, closing off the curtains, and suddenly, the room felt smaller than usual.

"What music do you like, sir?"

I swayed my hips and walked towards the neon-lit music box that sat at the corner.

He made a low grunt and simply slacked back on the sofa.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes." The smile on my face was still so stiff, and still so fake. "Yes. It does."

Couldn't these men just be direct? It was annoying enough that I had to do this, I didn't deserve to be stressed out on top of it.

He shrugged. "Whatever you usually play."

Fine by me.

I selected something sensual and sultry, a slow track with a deep, hypnotic beat.

When I turned back around, he was watching me with those unreadable eyes, widening his legs by just a fraction.

Charming.

"You don't have to look so miserable," I said, moving toward him with a grin on my face. "I promise I won't bite."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

I stopped in front of him, close enough that my knees almost touched his. The room was lit in red and purple light, and I was sure that it made the red gloss on my lip all the more irresistible. Up close, he was even more imposing.

And heavens, he smelled good.

I could almost taste the mild-coffee and wild roots in his scent.

I couldn't stop myself from taking a whiff of him. This action seemed to take him aback.

Focus, Sage.

I reached for the bottle of whiskey on the side table and poured two fingers into a crystal glass.

"Liquid courage," I murmured, taking a sip. The burn slid a trail down my throat, warming me from the inside out.

Then, holding his gaze, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

He stiffened.

For a second, I thought he might actually shove me away. But then his lips parted slightly, and I let the whiskey flow from my mouth to his.

He swallowed reflexively, his hands tightening on the armrests again. But something had changed in his expression. Something that hadn't been there when we walked in.

There you are.

I pulled back slowly, licking my bottom lip as I grinded my hips on his thighs. His gaze tracked the movement, and I saw his throat work as he swallowed again.

"Relax," I whispered, placing my hands on his shoulders. "This is supposed to be fun."

"Fun," he repeated, like the word was foreign to him.

He was either a buzz-kill or an over serious oaf. Maybe both.

But wouldn't it be fun to see how far this could go?

I straddled him again, this time settling more deliberately into his lap. My thighs bracketed his hips and my body pressed against his chest. I could feel the tension radiating off him in waves every time I moved.

"Do you feel that?" I whispered against his ear, trapping the tip between my teeth. Then I bit down, just enough to graze flesh, but not enough to draw blood. Yet.

His breath had quickened. And when I rolled my hips in time with the music, I felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against me through his expensive slacks.

His body was responding, even if his mind was fighting it.

A small thrill shot through me.

I leaned in close, my lips brushing the shell of his ear again.

"See? Not so bad, is it?"

His hands moved, leaving the armrests to hover near my waist.

"You can touch me," I whispered. "That is what you're paying for."

I pulled back just enough to look at him, and what I saw made me cup his chin.

His eyes had changed.

The steel-grey was lighter now, almost... silver. Glowing faintly in the dim light.

What the hell?

That same strange heat from earlier sparked to life in my chest, spreading through my limbs like wildfire, I felt goosebumps again and there was this pull, this magnetic, inexplicable pull toward him that made no sense.

His hands finally made contact, gripping my waist with barely restrained strength.

And the moment his skin touched mine, everything inside me felt like it was lit by desire.

His jaw clenched. "You need to stop."

"Stop?" I was taking apart my clothes, my body refusing to obey logic. The friction between us was intoxicating.

"Why?"

"Because," he groaned. "if you don't... I might not be able to exercise restraint."

A shiver ran down my spine.

I should've been terrified.

I should've gotten off his lap and stuck to what I came in here for.

But instead, I leaned in closer, my lips hovering just above his.

"Then don't."