Chapter 25
Camila
Lord knew Xander couldn’t stay away from me for three days. He showed up last night, but I didn’t dance. I gave the excuse that I wasn’t feeling well. Which wasn’t a complete lie; my body was still coming down from the stress of Luke.
Xander clung to me like glue. Wherever I went, he came.
Maybe I was wrong; he’s not a stalker.
He’s just annoying.
Needless to say, he looked smug at the fact that I wasn’t performing.
And he’s here as usual tonight.
I peek through the curtain to where he sits, taking up the centre of the room, in front of the stage.
Again. Already looking at the screen, waiting for me to emerge, his forearm muscles working as he brings a whisky glass to his lips.
His face says it all. He’s hoping I don’t come out and flaunt my body to everyone.
Tonight I made sure to wear my green lace bra.
I paired it with black fishnet tights and a short, black, leather skirt.
It barely does a good job of covering my bum.
I tried to tell myself that it’s not for a certain someone that’s been clinging to me like a lost puppy for almost a month, but that would be a lie.
I’m absolutely wearing this outfit to toy with Xander. I’m still pissed off about his comment the other week during the storm.
“You don’t belong here.”
And tonight, I decided that I’m going to show him that he can’t just control where I work and what I do. He doesn’t get a say over my life. I’ve had enough of people controlling me, and I’m not about to let some asshole with a power complex do it again.
Though, I know he’s right. It does send a thrill through me that he wants to keep me away from prying eyes, but it doesn’t change the fact that he said it, and it made me bring my guard up about it.
I’m just going to toy with him tonight.
If he wants me, it’s going to be on my terms. Not his.
“Vix, you’re on in 60 seconds,” the tech calls from his stool. I shoot him a quick thumbs up and peel off my silk robe, revealing my outfit.
I walk up the wooden steps and stand behind the screen, ready to dance again.
All The Time by Jeremiah streams through the speakers, and the crowd grows silent. The curtain opens, revealing Xander. Our eyes lock, and shivers run up my arm, my lips curling into a smirk. A buzz of anticipation runs through me.
For the first time, I’m not losing myself to the sound of the crowd and the music, settling into the role of Vixen.
This time, it’s me and Xander, and the music guides my body.
He’s cast in shadows, but somehow those bright blue eyes are visible through it.
And they’re burning right into me, as if he can brand himself onto me, claim me.
He leans back in his chair and discards his empty whisky glass to the side table as I start to make my walk up to the pole.
Slowly.
Every step I make is deliberate.
This is going to be as painful for him as it was for me hearing him attempt to control my life.
He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt tonight, which is unusual for him. It hugs him perfectly; every single bump of his abdominal muscles peaks through. Tattoos swirl all down his arms, hands, and neck.
My eyes trail down to his jeans, where the outline of a gun pokes through. My breath catches for a moment. He truly looks formidable.
His hand comes to rest on the gun inside his pocket, and I know what that means. It’s a warning, but not to me. It’s a warning for every pair of eyes on me here tonight.
But his threats aren’t going to stop me from what I’m about to do.
These next four minutes are going to be hell for him.
He and I both know he isn’t going to open fire inside his own premises.
I reach the pole, eyes still on Xander. He assesses me, trailing his eyes everywhere at once.
His long fingers tap on the gun.
Once. Twice.
I smile at him, grabbing the pole with both hands, and slide down into a horizontal split, bringing my barely concealed centre to his eyes. It’s a tiny thong, which only he can see. Everyone else in the room sits farther back, not daring to sit anywhere in his vicinity.
Heat rushes straight to my core as he sits up, presses his elbows to his knees, and brings himself closer to me. Those glacier eyes trace a path to my centre, and his tongue comes out, wetting his lips. His entire body is tense, that t-shirt almost ripping at the seams.
He knows what this is.
I whip my head around, my hair brushing against my back as I slowly circle it back towards him.
I lean forward, bringing my torso to the floor, closing my legs together, and rolling onto my back.
I drag myself back up into a sitting position and spin so I’m on all fours.
Swiftly snaking my chest to the floor, I use all the strength in my arms to hold myself up as my legs swing up into a handstand.
I arch backwards and clench my legs around the pole, coming up into a fireman spin.
My eyes lock onto his once more as I stand. I trace my hands from my breasts down to my core at the same time as lowering myself into a wide squat. Xander’s eyes darken.
I have a feeling my little show might not last much longer if I keep this up.
But I’m not here to bend to anyone’s wishes or follow anyone's rules.
The tattooed hands on his knees flex, gripping his legs, the skin on his knuckles turning white.
I drop to my knees, spinning to face away from him, and bring my head down to the floor. The back of my skirt flicks up and lands on top of my back as I snap my hips up, giving him a perfect view of my ass, and I wish I could see his face right now.
Splitting my knees further apart, I start moving my hips down towards the floor, then back up, making my ass bounce.
A sudden image of a topless Xander laid across the lounge bar top beneath me flashes in my mind.
The vision trails downwards, past the defined lines of the V in his abs, where he’s also naked.
His hands grip my bare waist, fingers digging into the skin there as he guides me down onto him.
I pull myself back into the present, and my movements slow as a phantom sensation of being filled by him overwhelms me.
My skin has broken out into a sweat, and my breathing picks up as I desperately try to erase that image of him from my mind. He barely touched me, but my body hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him.
I sit back up onto my knees and spread them as far apart as I can, my centre hitting the floor.
I grind into it, slow and deliberate. That image of him coming to the forefront again, sending heat rushing to my core.
His hand travels up along the middle of my torso.
I throw my head back, running my hands up and down the length of my body.
Over my thighs, guiding them over to my ass and squeezing, then back up to the front.
He takes his time around my breasts, pinching a nipple between his fingers and pulling gently.
I just about manage to conceal a moan as I mimic my thoughts with my hands.
His hand snakes its way up to my neck, gripping it and pulling me down towards his lips.
His hooded eyes trace the contours of my face as his breath fans over my mouth.
‘Good fucking girl’. His whisper-growl echoes in my mind, and I force my thoughts back to the present.
All Luke ever did was insult me while he raped me, so praise is new to me. And hearing it coming out of Xander’s mouth set my body alight.
My heart rate has accelerated to impossible speeds now, and I’m sure there’s a sheen of sweat covering my entire body.
I weave my hands through my hair, looking over my shoulder at Xander. His whole frame is tense, looking like an immovable statue. His dark eyes never leave mine as his jaw clenches so hard it looks like he might just crush his teeth.
His chest rises and falls rapidly, matching my own. But his is working for an entirely different reason. Xander is vibrating with anger. His eyes blaze with a raging fire while he palms his gun. Closing and releasing his fist around it. Probably plotting a mass murder of the entire floor.
Then several deafening bangs fill the room. The music stops.
Before I know it, I’m tackled to the floor by a hard body. The familiar manly scent fills my nostrils, and a large hand cradles my head, preventing it from making contact with the stage.
“Stay down. Do not move, Angel.” Xander’s voice is steady and firm in my ear. His obvious erection presses into my thigh, but my dirty thoughts are long gone, replaced by a tremble in my muscles.
I nod my head vigorously; a sense of panic fills me as chaos breaks out. Though I can’t see anything but the white of Xander's t-shirt changing colour with the flashing neon lights. Gunshots ring out around us. Glass smashes. Chairs break. Men shout.
Xander shifts. His hand leaves my lower back, and he reaches into his side pocket, pulling out the gun he’s been threatening all night.
Unlike a few minutes ago during my performance, his breath is steady as his arm slightly cocks back with each bullet that fires out of the weapon.
His thumb moves up and down on the back of my head. “You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
My breaths come in shallow beneath the weight of him, but I don’t dare move a muscle.
The last of the gunshots ring out before everything falls silent.
“What in the fuck?” Jacques’s voice booms in the still silence, and Xander’s body tenses at last.
“Get everyone the fuck out of here. Take him down to the basement.” His chest rumbles against mine with his words.
At last, his weight lifts off me, and dim lights fill my vision. There’s a hush of people leaving the club.
I sit up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the new lighting. I take in the scene around me and freeze. People, including staff, are being evacuated out of the building by security with guns, but there are also people… bodies… covered in blood, slumped on the chairs, that aren’t moving.
I swallow past the lump in my throat, my eyes wide with the realisation of what just happened.
Xander’s presence remains beside me. He grabs my chin with his thumb and forefinger and guides my face towards his, his eyes locked on mine.
“You’re okay,” he states. I glance down to where he still holds his gun. He quickly shoves it back in his pocket and guides me upright. “You’re okay,” he repeats, slower.
His eyes wander behind me, nostrils flaring slightly, before scooping me up and carrying me bridal style towards the stairs. All the while, I keep my focus on the hard lines of his face.
He catches my gaze as he takes two stairs at a time. “You're safe.”
I realise at that moment that my whole body is trembling in his arms, so I force my muscles to relax, but it just makes the shaking worse. His jaw ticks as he watches my struggle to calm down. My body is in so much shock that all I can really focus on is him.
Everything is a blur.
He kicks open a door and gently sets me down on the bed. I take in my surroundings and realise it’s the same bedroom from the storm night. Only now, it looks different.
“Stay here. Do not move. I will send Ezra to stand outside the door as soon as possible,” he says, gently stroking a hand down the side of my face.
He hurries over to the bedside table, pulling open the drawer and pulling out another gun. Bringing it over to me, he takes my open palm and places the cold metal in my hand.
“Have you used one of these before?” he asks, eyes locked on mine.
I shake my head.
He preps the gun, unlocking the safety, and places it back in my hand.
“Wrap your finger around here. Don’t press unless you really need to, okay? It’s not locked. It will fire when you pull the trigger.”
I nod absentmindedly.
He strokes his knuckles down my face again. He hesitates for a second, but he pulls his pistol back out and leaves the room with a soft click followed by fast, thumping footsteps. I look around the room; the left-hand side has been cleared, and the carpet has been replaced by another low platform.
My eyes trail up to a pole right in the middle of it. My heart stalls as I take in the soft, green lighting. Xander Warren is full of surprises, and I can’t say I hate it.