Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
The locker room at Euphoria feels eerily quiet tonight.
No chatter, no laughter, no thudding bass vibrating through the walls from the main floor. Just me, alone in front of the mirror, slicking on a coat of lip gloss.
Everything about this moment feels surreal.
He rented the whole fucking club.
I press my lips together to even out the gloss and shake my head, still trying to wrap my mind around it. Koen rented the entire place for me. To give me one last night as a stripper.
Considerate. That word clings to him perfectly. Always thoughtful, always knowing exactly what I need before I even ask. I don’t know how to handle that kind of attentiveness, but God, I love it.
My gaze drifts down to my reflection. I’m in a black G-string and pasties, no glitter dusted across my skin, no candy-pink wig, no rhinestones sparkling under the lights.
Just me.
For the first time, I’m stepping onto that stage as Novalee, not Glitter. I don’t need the armor tonight. I don’t need to shine in anyone else’s place.
I can shine in my own.
I stare at the mirror, and Rosalee’s face stares back at me. But this time, it’s mine. It’s me. I see myself.
Myself happy.
Myself whole.
My throat tightens, but instead of tears, a smile spreads across my face as I tilt my chin up to the ceiling. “Thank you for lending me Glitter, Rosie,” I whisper. “But I’m giving her back now. I don’t need her anymore.”
The words are a release, a final step toward something I thought I’d never have again.
Peace.
I rise from the bench, smoothing my hands down my thighs as I walk toward the door. My heart races, not from nerves, but from the anticipation of giving them everything I’ve saved for this moment.
The second I step out onto the stage, music starts up, and the overhead lights shine down, hot against my bare skin.
And there they are.
Koen, Ace, Sylus, and Nicholas are sprawled across the couches in front of the stage, eyes already locked on me. Heat and hunger burn in their gazes, but there’s reverence too. Like I’m something to be worshiped.
Glancing to the back, I spot Ezra and Levi at the bar, glasses in hand. Levi catches my eye and raises his champagne glass with a grin.
I grip the pole and slide my hand up until it’s steady in my palm. The familiar cool metal grounds me. This is my last dance. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, feeling the music surge through my veins. Time to make it my best.
The beat drops, and I move.
I spin, the air rushing around me as I swing out gracefully, legs taut, muscles flexing. My feet in the way-too-high stilettos hit the stage floor with a satisfying thud, and I arch my back into the next movement.
A loud whoop breaks through the music—Sylus.
That’s right, watch me.
I climb the pole, reaching the top in one smooth pull, then arch and let my body slide down in one fluid glide. The friction heats my skin as I twist and land in a perfect split.
“Fuck,” Koen growls out, loud enough that I hear it over the music.
Chuckling, I tilt my head as I catch sight of him. Mouth parted, looking hungry as hell.
Flicking my gaze toward the bar again, I softly laugh when I see Ezra tugging Levi toward one of the private rooms.
I love that for them. It’s great to see them taking what they want.
I push up from the floor and move into my final spin, arching my back as I grip the pole for the last time. The music swells, and I finish with a flourish, flipping my hair back as I land on both feet, my arms raised above my head.
The last notes of the song fade, but the heat in the room lingers. My pulse hums as I lower my arms and step off the stage, walking straight toward them.
My men.
Nicholas is sitting on the edge of the couch, hands resting on his thighs. His fingers twitch the closer I get like he doesn’t know whether to reach for me or keep them pinned where they are. His lips part, his breathing shallow, as if he’s forgotten how to exhale.
God, look at him.
He’s already wrecked, and I haven’t even touched him yet.
I stop right in front of him, and his eyes flick up to meet mine. He looks like he’s ready to come undone simply from watching me.
“Hi, sweetheart,” I murmur, sliding a hand along his jaw. His breath stutters at the contact, his head tilting into my palm like he’s starved for it.
“Sweetness…”
Straddling his lap slowly, I savor the way his body goes still beneath me. My fingertips trail down his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath his shirt. “Let me take care of you.”
I start to move, making my hips roll against his lap in a slow, rhythmic grind, drawing out a strangled moan from deep in his throat. His hands keep twitching like he’s seconds from grabbing my waist, but he doesn’t. He holds still exactly as a good boy should.
“So good for me.” I drag my fingers up the sides of his neck, threading them through his dark hair. Nicholas’s eyes snap open, glazed and glassy as they meet mine. “You like it when I tell you that, don’t you?” I ask, grinding down harder against him. His hips jerk up involuntarily.
“Yes.”
“Look at you,” I purr, letting my lips brush over his cheek, his jaw, before I press a kiss right beneath his ear. “You’re perfect.”
“Novalee…” His breath catches in his throat.
My fingers slide down his arm, brushing over the band of his smartwatch. I feel the slight ridge of it beneath my fingertips, and a familiar thrill courses through me.
Showtime.
My lips find his, and he opens for me immediately. I let him drown in it, in me, and as his focus sharpens on the kiss, I slip the watch free from his wrist with a twist of my fingers.
Leaning back, I hold the watch behind his head and palm it. Nicholas lets out another whimper, chasing the kiss.
“Such a good boy.” I glance to my right and catch Koen’s eyes, watching us with a heat that makes my skin prickle. The anticipation builds, a pressure in my chest. Soon.
Pressing one last lingering kiss to Nicholas’s lips, I savor the way he leans into it and then slide off his lap, letting my fingers trail down his chest before I step away.
I turn to Sylus, and he’s already shifting forward on the couch like he can’t wait another second for his turn. “Come here.” He reaches for me like an eager puppy, his hands already brushing my waist.
Laughing, I let him pull me to him, his arms wrapping tightly around me, lifting me off the floor and settling me into place with a low growl of satisfaction.
“Missed this,” he mutters, his breath warm against my chest.
I slowly grind against him, feeling his muscles flex under me. His response is immediate—a soft, reverent moan as his lips find the curve of my neck before he sucks, making my breath hitch.
“Sylus.” His teeth nip at the same spot, sending a shiver down my spine and causing goose bumps to spread across my skin.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs between kisses, then he licks over the spot he nipped, soothing it, then sucks harder, making me arch against him.
“This is a lap dance. I should be dancing.” My fingers curl into his hair as he drags his lips up the side of my neck.
Sylus is so focused on tasting me that he doesn’t notice when I slide my hand down the length of his arm and steal his smartwatch right off it, holding it in my hand with Nicholas’s. He only groans as I shift in his lap, my hips rolling in a slow, teasing circle.
“Yeah, forget the dance,” he breathes out, his mouth brushing against my ear.
My free hand slides down to his chest, tracing the hard planes of muscle through his shirt. I press my breasts against him while I tilt his face up. “Kiss me.”
Sylus’s lips part against mine, and his tongue flicks over my bottom lip before diving deeper, kissing me like he’s trying to steal the very air from my lungs.
The world narrows to the press of his body beneath me, the heat of his touch, the way he groans into my mouth like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted.
I pull back, catching my breath, our noses brushing as I whisper for only him to hear, “Thank you, hubby.”
When I finally stand, Sylus lets out a low, frustrated sound, his hands falling reluctantly away from my waist.
Glancing down at him, the corner of my mouth quirks up. He’s a mess, hair askew, lips swollen, gray eyes glassy, but I step away, my legs still tingling from how tightly he held me. His head tips back against the couch, and while I’m still watching Sylus, I can already feel the heat of Koen’s gaze.
When I finally turn to face him, my breath catches. Koen sits there, legs spread wide, arms draped casually over the back of the couch, waiting for me to come to him. His watch glints on his wrist, tempting, but I already know this isn’t going to be like the others.
There’s a knowing smirk on his lips, the kind that makes me squirm. That smirk tells me he’s been watching the whole time. He’s seen what I’ve done, seen me slip Nicholas’s watch, Sylus’s too.
I climb onto his lap, straddling him, and his hands come up, settling at my waist. Not tight, not demanding, just enough to remind me how strong they are.
“Hi,” I murmur, running the fingers of my free hand up his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath my touch.
His smirk softens a fraction. “Hi.”
The warmth in that one word makes my heart flip, but I don’t have time to dwell on it. Koen tilts his head, his gaze flicking down the length of me with slow, deliberate approval, then back up to meet my eyes.
“Go on,” he murmurs. “Show me what you’ve got.”
The challenge in his voice makes heat curl low in my belly. I start to move sensually, grinding down against him in a way that makes both of us suck in a breath. His hips press up, but his hands stay right where they are, steadying me as I roll my body.
Koen doesn’t break eye contact, not once.
His gaze pins me in place, and my pulse hammers in my chest as his lips curl into another lazy, knowing smile.
“Getting nervous?”