Chapter 12 

"Reine! Shoot me another one of these." Annie held up the empty glass for the bartender before slamming it onto the granite top. Three shots down. And after last night, she was just getting started. Music blared from the hidden speakers around the perimeter of the club. She closed her eyes and began to sway to the beat, losing herself to the smoky rhythm.

"Don't you think you should slow down? You're up next, you know."

Annie opened her eyes and turned to the deep, irritated voice. Davis stood next to her, a scowl taking up most of his face.

"You know Stella hates it when her girls get shit-faced. She doesn't want you to be sloppy up there," he said, nodding toward the stage.

"Don't you worry, Big D. I know what I'm doin'."

Dozens of men cat-called around them and Annie followed their cheers. Mingxia, the most beautiful of all Stella's dancers, in Annie's humble opinion, dominated the audience. Her sultry floor routine had the men begging for more. Reine appeared behind the bar and filled Annie's glass half-full with amber-colored liquid. Davis' scowl deepened. The young bartender shrugged it off and walked away.

Annie brought the glass to her mouth and downed the entire shot in one gulp. The whiskey slid over her tongue and pooled pleasantly in the pit of her stomach. A wide grin spread over her face as her eyes roamed appreciatively over the center of Davis' pants. "So, I guess I know now why they call you Big D ... Big D." Annie giggled then ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "The other night was fun, huh?"

"Anastasia, what the hell're you doin'? You can't go up there as drunk as you are. Stella will fire your ass."

"I'm not drunk."

"The hell you're not. Reine, would you get this girl some water?" he called out to the bartender. "And stop feeding her shots. You should know better."

The girl behind the bar rolled her eyes and tossed pink-streaked blonde hair over a tattooed shoulder. She filled a beer glass with ice water then slid it across the counter.

"Here, drink this." Davis thrust the glass into Annie's hand, the water spilling over the edge. "And you're welcome."

"Gee, thanks." Annie switched the drink to her other hand and wiped her wet wrist across the front of his shirt. "You're such a killjoy, you know that?"

"What the fuck's the matter with you?"

She took a sip of the water and avoided his gaze. "Nothin's the matter with me. What the fuck's the matter with you?"

"Just drink your damn water." Davis growled, then stomped off.

"Guess that means you don't want another blow job," she called after him. Davis waved his hand over his head but didn't turn around.

Annie took another swallow. She hated to admit it, but the water felt good as it moved down her throat. Maybe Davis was right? Maybe she was a little drunk? But after the night she'd had with Hudson, who could blame her? Stella would be pissed if she didn't sober up, and fast. She swallowed down the rest of the water, then leaned over the bar to pour herself another glass.

Settling onto a stool, she watched the rest of Mingxia's show. The dancer was stunning in a uniquely exotic way. Waist-length, black hair and a long, svelte body. And the audience ate up her slow, sensuous gyrations. The music was hypnotic and Annie felt her breathing kick up as she studied Mingxia's movements. The girl was on fire, and she knew it. Annie understood the feeling. Nothing felt as good as controlling men from the stage. Every time Annie danced, it felt like they were all at her mercy. Every last one of them. And it felt damn good.

Her eyes moved over the crowd. Every customer sat forward in their seats, mouths agape, eyes nearly popping out their heads. How many of them were married? How many of them had small children waiting for their daddy's to tuck them into bed? Shame and disgust filled her. But only for a moment. Annie took another drink then set the glass on the bar.

She supposed it wasn't her problem. No reason to get upset over something she couldn't fix. For whatever reason, these men came to the club to get away from their lives. Far be it from her to begrudge them a moment of escape. Escape from their jobs. Escape from the families. Escape from their problems. They'd earned it, hadn't they? It was simply her place to help them forget for awhile. And help them forget, she certainly did.

Annie slid off the stool and made her way backstage. Once behind the curtain, she stepped out of her loose-fitted dress, revealing a black thong and break-away top underneath. Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, she applied another layer of concealer around her eyes. The dark circles faded away underneath the foundation, hiding the fact she hadn't gotten much sleep.

"You're up, bitch."

Annie met Mingxia's almond-shaped brown eyes in the mirror. They watched each other warily for one long moment. Every time she crossed paths with the porcelain-skinned dancer, her thoughts drifted to romantic images of flat-bottomed boats sailing on the Yangtze River and charming parks filled with plum blossoms. But the moment the girl opened her mouth, her thick Brooklyn accent sifted out and the illusion disappeared.

"What're ya starin' at me for?" Mingxia asked, jarring her thoughts. She grabbed a pack of cigarettes from a nearby table and slid out a small joint, balancing it between pink, heart-shaped lips. "Get out there and work that fine ass of yours."

Annie turned toward the thick navy curtain that separated them from the stage. A deep base thumped, vibrating the floor beneath her feet. She slipped on black stilettos and walked up the steps, looking back only once before the DJ called her name.

Like always, a sheet of smoke blanketed the crowd and the bright lights shining down drown out the sea of hungry faces staring back. This was her moment. This is where she felt most alive. Power. Finally being in control. Taking charge. Taking back everything that had been stolen from her.

Annie closed her eyes and let the music take over. She grasped the pole between both hands and let her body spin around. Head dropping, back arched ... farther ... farther ... until she watched the ceiling circle above. The crowd egged her on with their roars of obvious approval, dollars bills hitting the floor from all directions.

Her head flipped up, black hair fanning overhead. Once her vision adjusted to the lights, she eyed the audience before her. Davis stood near the bar, thick lips spread tight across a somber face. Watching, waiting to see just how drunk she really was. Alcohol still simmered inside of her, but the stage had always been a much bigger high. More satisfying than any shot of whiskey or line of coke. She slithered around in slow motion, caressing the steel like a long-lost lover. With legs spread wide, Annie gyrated her hips, pulling away the sheer mid-drift that covered her full breasts. The audience went wild, screaming and calling out her name as if they were seeing a naked woman for the first time after a long drought of nothing.

From the corner of her eye, she watched an exceptionally well-dressed man make his way up front, settling into a seat near center stage. With an easy confidence, he leaned back in his chair, his heavy-lidded stare never once leaving her body. The man held a drink in his hands, two square ice cubes bobbing up and down in the dark liquid. Very slowly, almost teasingly, he swirled the beverage in his glass. Bringing the rim to his lips, he took his time letting the alcohol roll across his tongue.

Something about the man set him apart from the others in the club. From the tailored dress pants to the fashionable coif of dark-blonde hair. The top few buttons of his white dress shirt hung open, revealing a toned chest and a small silver cross dangling on a delicate chain, glinting against the brights lights of the stage. When their eyes locked, the crowd melted away. Annie danced only for him. His private dancer. He watched her intently, as if he felt the same way, his sapphire gaze filled with more that just curious interest. Somehow his eyes seemed familiar. As if it wasn't the first time they'd fastened on to one another.

Silent intensity rolled off of him in waves as his gaze continued to bore into hers. Could this be the guy who'd been asking about her? Annie had a sneaking suspicion he was. She slid her back down the steel pole then dropped to the floor, inching closer like a cat ready to pounce. Her tongue moved over glistening lips.

One long leg crossed over the stage and then two, until both feet firmly planted on the floor. Their eyes held as she sashayed toward him, ignoring the desperate pleas of the men she passed by. Standing in front of him, Annie turned her back and straddled his lap between her legs, lowering herself to a sitting position. She moved her head in a slow circle, forward ... then back ... letting her long, raven hair, caress over her heated skin.

His fingertips skimmed the outside of her thighs, his touch growing more urgent the higher he reached. A thick, gold band encircled his ring finger. But who cared? He didn't stop until he met the seam of her thong. When his thumbs slid over the silky material, Annie's head rolled back again, this time resting against the top of his shoulder. Her lips parted when a quiet moan escaped from the back of his throat. She sat back into his lap, her bottom gyrating over the thickness growing in his pants. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her naked back, and she pressed herself tighter to him, enjoying the way his body succumbed to hers.

Power. Everything in her life revolved around power. The thrill of controlling another human being. Especially a man. Someone bigger and stronger. Someone with authority. Like the someone who had taken from her when he hadn't had the right.

Annie twisted around until she faced him, their noses so close she could taste the liquor on his breath.  Thrusting her bare breasts forward, the material of his shirt grazed her hardened nipples. A wave of enjoyment moved through her as his breath audibly hitched. Like a moth to a flame, his head bent forward, his lips scorching a heated path from her collarbone to her ear, finally raking his teeth against the tender lobe.

The sound of his heart hammered in his chest. Or was that hers?

Without warning, Annie felt his body stiffen beneath her. His fists clenched against her bare thighs and he stood abruptly from his chair. She fell from his lap and hit the sticky floor with a thud.

Pushing away the hair that had fallen into her face, Annie watched the man stomp away, his figure growing distant with every step. He never once looked back.

Overpowered. Overcome. Overwhelmed. She'd won.

The corner of her mouth pulled up with satisfaction.