Chapter 3

The world outside vanished the second I stepped through the obsidian double doors of the club.

  "Fuck me!" I gapsed.

  Heat and bass swallowed me whole. The air shifted thick with perfume, cigar smoke, expensive cologne, and something more primal. Lust. It was in the velvet walls, in the honey-red lights that danced across naked skin, in the quiet moans that melted into music that didn’t just play, it thrummed, low and dangerous, like a heartbeat under the floor.

  I paused just inside the entrance.

  The Midnight Pleasure Club was more cathedral than nightclub. A palace of decadence and sexual perversions. Crystal chandeliers hung low like the breasts of ancient queens, draped in ruby-tinted light. Every corner oozed luxury,silk, leather, and shadows. Tables circled a sunken stage at the center, where stark naked strip dancers writhed in honeyed slow motion under a flood of gold light, the disco light above reflecting on their naked bodies.

 "Mala where am I?" I whispered in her ears

  My black dress clung to my skin, Mala had zipped me into it herself against my will of course, squeezing me until my breasts spilled upward in a teasing swell I felt naked in it, I’d protested, but her only response was, “You look like sin, baby, own it.” 

  As we walked deeper into the lion’s den, I felt each movement of the fabric against my thighs, the press of high heels on plush carpet, the weight of curious eyes trailing over me.

  I was invisible no more.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered.

  Mala laughed beside me, a goddess wrapped in metallic pink. Her braids shimmered like neon snakes.

  “Welcome to the jungle, Ivy, you look breathtaking babygirl, I can feel the eyes of these rich sex depraved bastards all over you”

  I turned in a slow circle, my mouth dry. One stage featured a naked woman straddling a leather saddle, grinding with slow, deliberate grace as masked men tossed bills like prayers. By my left just off the stage i noticed another group of men trying to shove dollars bills into a strippers pu**y, Another corner had two male dancers in lace briefs licking chocolate from a woman’s inner thighs as she sipped champagne and moaned lazily.

  My heart galloped.

  “I can’t—”

  “You can,” Mala said, sliding her hand into mine. “Come on, we start slow.”

  She led me through a throng of sweating bodies toward a marble topped bar glowing red. Behind it, her boyfriend Rafe flashed us a grin. He had this dark-eyed, slow-smiling kind of sexy that made women lean closer without realizing they were doing it. 

  “Mala.” He leaned over to kiss her, briefly.

  Rafe handed me a tall glass of something sparkling and pale gold, I stared at it.

  “I don’t really drink,” I murmured.

  Mala bumped her hip into mine. “You do tonight.”

  I took a tiny sip, it tasted sweet, citrus and sugar with a burn that trailed down my throat like a whisper. I began to cough, whatever was in that cup I was given to drink by Rafe was definitely too strong for me. 

  "I hope I make it out of here alife tonight"

  We found a booth wrapped in crushed velvet, facing the main stage. The music dropped into a slower rhythm. A woman, bare-breasted and blindfolded, was led onto the stage by a man in a sharp navy suit. He didn’t touch her. He just whispered something against her neck and the woman arched, trembling, as if his words alone could command her body.

  I shifted, heat blooming low in my belly.

  Another drink appeared. Then another.

  "Have some more Ivy, loosen up. tonight's is the night you find yourself a fucking stud baby"

  " I'd rather not drink anymore mala, you know I don't drink" 

  I had already started feeling unusual, I wanted to stop drinking but for some reason I kept taking one glass after the other, the booze warmed me, it made me forget my inadequacy, it made me forget the pain and loneliness I felt deep down my soul. The edges of the room started to shimmer, and I started to smile, suddenly the room began to spin, something within me began to loosen up.

  Mala was dancing now. Laughing with a man in suspenders and nothing else. Her hips moved like liquid, her mouth open in a wild grin. She turned to me, breathless.

  “Come on, Ivy! Dance with me!”

  “I can’t dance like that!” I laughed.

  “Yes, you can! You just don’t know it yet!”

  I stayed in the booth for a while longer, legs crossed tightly, sipping the third drink slowly.

  The alcohol melted my nerves like wax. My skin tingled. The red lights caressed me, and the music licked its way down my spine. Every moan, every breathy laugh from the crowd, pulled me deeper.

  For the first time in forever, I didn’t feel invisible, I felt powerful, like I could take on the world.

  Men stared, women too. I could feel their eyes on my skin like heat, a man in grey suite licked his lips his eyes hovering over me.

  I ran a hand down the front of my dress, over the curve of my waist and hips, and it hit me:

  I looked good. No, I looked fuckable.

  My nipples hardened beneath the tight fabric. The bass pulsed through my chest.

  I stood.

  One step.

  Two.

  The dance floor welcomed me like a lover.

  Mala squealed, grabbing my hands.

  “There she is!” she shouted over the music.

  I laughed. Giddy. High on alcohol and attention and something deeper—something I couldn’t name. I moved. Just a little at first. A sway of the hips, a flick of my hair.

  Mala circled me like a predator and grinned.

  “You’ve been hiding all this under sweatpants? Girl, you’re a felony.”

  I laughed again, louder. The music wrapped around us.

  I closed my eyes and danced, twisting my hips like a belly dancer, I completely let go, this is where I am meant to be.

  And somewhere in the shadows, a pair of cold blue eyes took notice of me.