Chapter Thirty
Raven .
There was a sordid feeling, ominous almost, when I slipped into the black and gold leotard and it molded to my body like a second skin.
I can see now how it shimmers like snakeskin under the bright lights as I stand before the two judges and the other girls trying out who are watching my audition.
As the sultry music begins to play, I force all thoughts of Jonas, Maverick, and Damon out of my mind and focus solely on making my body move, to rock my hips side to side, only to turn, dip low, arch my back, and follow my routine, careful, not to let my wings hit the floor.
I’m the only one that decided to try out in full get up.
I am a moth. Dainty. Dangerous. Possibly venomous. Scratch that. I am the dark poison woven into a silky exterior.
I’m not sure if there are poles in the cages or if they’re just cages, but I decided to go for this as well.
I’ll need to be able to dance with or without one so, with that being said, I reach for the pole on a whim and grab up high, only to bring my leg up and around, spinning, letting my hair fall, my mask wants to slip free but I don’t let it. I just maneuver my body differently.
I know I don’t have the most beautiful one, I have bigger thighs, and rounder hips, and my tummy isn’t incredibly flat.
With the way Damon and Jonas feed me, I’m the healthiest I’ve ever been and yet…
there’s always that niggling insecurity in the back of my mind th at I won’t be able to do this because of that.
When the music stops, and I land with splits on the hardwood studio floors, a few of the girls waiting to try out or that have already done so, get up and leave.
I’m not Raven today. I’m Chloe .
And I’ll be Chloe for as long as it takes.
“Step forward.” With the lights still shining on my face, and the dark mesh in the eyes of my mask, I’m not exactly sure which of the duo I’m auditioning for says it but I do so.
The woman sitting in front of me to my right gets up and walks toward me.
She rounds me, like a jungle cat circling its prey.
She wears all black, from her stilettos to her tights to her pencil skirt and turtleneck, including the frames that sit on her small face, and her dark hair is up in a tight bun.
The only splash of color on her are her matte red lips.
“You aren’t usually what we look for in a dancer…” She begins.
“Her curves are more natural than Marissa’s and she’s a favorite.” The other one says. She wears exactly what this one is except her blonde hair is down and she’s older.
“Could you waitress?” She asks me.
But Chloe signs that she can’t talk.
The woman’s dark eyes widen and she nods without judgement. “I see.”
The other, older woman stands and does the same perusal of my body so now they’re both circling me like vultures, picking me apart. The first one twists her lips to the side and leans toward the blonde, whispering.
The blonde snaps her gaze to mine. “Leave your name and number with Daisy at the front desk. I’m assuming we’re to reach out via text?”
I nod. Leaving the studio and back to the empty dressing room, I quickly change, shoving my costume, mask and boots into my gym bag, going up the first floor to find Daisy who’s lounging around the bar, talking to a bartender that’s drying glasses behind the bar and putting them where they belong.
“Chloe?” She asks. Her green eyes are a sharp contrast against her bronze skin.
I nod .
“Perfect. Layla and Sasha wanted me to give you a tour. They’d like you to begin working Saturday night.
” She rounds the bar, wearing a white shirt tucked into a pencil skirt and the best part of her outfit are the suspenders.
Her chestnut locks are styled in a 1950s pin-up manner as we take the first floor.
Where there are booths and tables and medium lighting.
“Inferno is about expanding horizons. Growing . This first floor is the busiest during the day. A lot of bankers and finance guys have lunch and dinner here, networking type things.”
We take the stairs to the second floor. Where it’s the same as downstairs but dim lighting, and booths.
The tables here have no chairs but there are barstools by the bars.
“This floor is more for schmoozing. After dinner a lot of our clients end up here after work, needing to take the edge off or mingle with more highbrow clients.”
Third floor. Where it’s set up like it is the first two floors but now there are cages.
“This is where you’ll be dancing primarily.
” She points to the cages that someone behind the scenes lowers.
It’s large, and the bars are sturdy. “We have a no touching policy. Unless they decide to purchase your company for the evening. Your cage has a monitor that will list the things you’re comfortable with from nothing but company to heavy petting to oral to sex to group sex.
If you are purchased for the evening, you’ll be taken to the fourth floor where it is VIP access only.
It’s a minimum of two thousand dollars and one hour with your client or until we close for the evening. ”
We go up. The fourth floor does have poles, along with velvet sofas, ottomans and even though it’s empty, save the bartenders and barbacks gearing up for the evening, it still smells of sex and sins.
“If things progress and you’d like to go up to the fifth floor with your client, you’ll be leaving with no less than five grand in your pocket. It is wired to you immediately after signing an NDA. Come, let me show you the fifth floor.”
Up we go.
The fifth floor is a long hallway with four rooms on either side.
Each room has a small window outside of it so you can peek inside, for voyeurs, I assume.
Each room has four poster beds, a Saint Andrew’s Cross, a plethora of toys, restraints and bondage gear including a mini-fridge and after-care supplies and an en suite with both a shower and a tub .
“There is a guard that stands outside of every room to ensure your list is being followed through and your client is not crossing your boundaries. They are also there in case you say your safe word and your client does not follow protocol.” She says, her smile fading as though it’s happened before.
My list? I hike a brow and she seems to understand.
“Before you sign your NDA, you’re given a limits list. What your hard and soft limits are so your client doesn’t end up doing something that you are not okay with.”
I nod and she laughs again, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t worry. A lot of the time… the men that come here, the older ones mostly, it really is about companionship.
Sometimes they pay you to be a pretty thing on their arm while they conduct business arrangements, and sometimes…
sometimes when they take you to the last floor, they just want to cuddle. ”
I point up.
“Let’s go.”
The sixth floor is totally and completely different from all the ones below. It’s the same as the fifth floor but unlike the whips and chains from the fifth floor, this floor is all about comfort even the music up here is different. It’s like hotel suites.
“If you’re brought up here, it’s a minimum of seven grand.
They can provide aftercare on the fifth floor, but this floor is made exactly for that.
To pamper you. Or for cuddling. There are still guards outside of every door just in case.
” She frowns. “It’s kind of sad, really.
So many men are so touch and attention starved – especially the older ones.
A lot of them are widowers.” She hums softly and then, “I was a dancer before I became a partner. I made a lot of money being someone’s arm candy. ”
And I get it. Inferno is about growing. But it’s so much more than that.
While the first five floors are Dante’s Inferno, this floor is Dante’s Paradise .
I smile at Daisy as the realization dawns on my face. Whether or not she knows it is beyond me. But for me, there’s a fire burning in my belly. I recognize it for what it is – excitement.
______
After shopping and dropping off a few things at Damon’s, I head back to Maverick’s, opening the door to find Jonas waiting for me, a bouquet of dahlias, dark sunflowers, calla lilies and dark red roses on the counter.
The colors clash but they’re beautiful. My heart zings, popping in my chest, as he rounds the countertop and greets me with a deep kiss, one hand on my hip, the other holding the back of my neck.
“Hey baby.” He smiles against my lips and then kisses my forehead. “I couldn’t stay away. I missed you so much. I texted Coach to let him know I’ll be driving out to West Point since it’s only twenty minutes from here. I just had to see you before the game.”
I kiss him in response, my arms going around his shoulders to keep him close because I hate being away from him with every fiber of my being. His hands wrap around my waist and tug me closer and we just stand there for a moment, holding each other, chest against chest, savoring the others presence.
“I have a question to ask you.” He says against my temple and we finally break apart.
He pulls something out of his back pocket and it takes me a moment to realize he’s holding a black mask by the satin string.
It’s old and the face piece looks a little Victorian.
I tilt my head to the side and scrunch my nose in question.
“Will you be my date to the Homecoming Ball?”
I smile so big it hurts. I rub my nose against his and nod, smile still on my face when I go in for a kiss. He licks the seam of my lips and I grant him entry.
“Fuck baby, I don’t have time. When I get home? Will you wait up for me?”