Chapter 13

With her pulse still racing, Annie made her way back stage while another dancer took her place at the pole. 

What in the world had happened out there? The well-dressed man—the one who smelled of expensive cologne and who's breath tasted of top-shelf Cognac—had never came back. After the little freebie she'd given him, he must have left the club. She could really rock his world if he'd let her. And he wouldn't be sorry. She'd push away all thoughts of that gold band weighing down his finger, squeezing so tight he probably didn't even remember who he used to be. Make him forget whoever it was at home, waiting for him to return. A sense of longing pulled deep in her stomach. She wanted to feel him inside of her, wanted to consume every last drop of his release. The need made her restless. Perhaps it was the challenge.

He'd be back. That, she was sure of. And she'd be waiting for him when he did. Because what Annie wanted, Annie always received.

A sudden rush of sadness engulfed her. Annie closed her eyes, letting darkness take over. The familiar twist of knots tightened like a vise in her stomach. A memory? She squeezed her eyes tighter, wanting everything to disappear. And just as quickly as it arose, the moment passed.

Collapsing half-naked into a red, canvass chair, she let her black heels slide to the floor and leaned back, propping her bare feet on a table. She pulled a cigarette from the open pack sitting nearby and drug in deeply as she held a lighter to the tip. The sting of nicotine swirled inside of her. Annie tipped her head back and slowly exhaled, letting a thin stream of smoke billow around her.

The grip of tension melted from her shoulders. A little relaxation was exactly what she needed. If she couldn't find a way to relieve some stress, she might explode. With Jacob out of town, Hudson was her responsibility. And that wasn't an easy task when she had other obligations on her plate. Looking after her friend was a full-time job. Thank God that cop had agreed to drive past the apartment during his shift. It wasn't quite the same as babysitting her, but it would have to do. At least if that asshole attacker saw a patrol car lurking around, it might deter him from trying anything stupid.

Annie took another long drag, the swell of her lungs jutting her breasts forward. She wasn't sure if it was the nicotine or the act of deep breathing that made her heart rate slow, but after awhile, a sort of calm took over.

The back door creaked open, letting in a rush of soggy night air.

"Hey, lover."

Annie turned to the voice. "Hey, Molly. How's it goin'?" She took one last pull before squashing the cigarette out in an ashtray. It spilled over with lipstick-stained butts.

Molly threw her shoulder bag on a ratty, leather couch and let out a huff. "I've seen better days. What about you?"

"Same."

The dancer plopped down in a chair across from her. "Have you been out there yet?" she asked, cocking her head toward the thumping music.

Annie nodded but didn't say a word.

"How's the crowd?"

"The usual mix. Some regulars, some new faces." She shrugged. "Didn't pay that much attention."

Molly leaned forward, propping her elbows on the tabletop. "You high?"

Annie let out a long breath. "No. Just had a few shots before Big D put an end to it."

"Yeah, he's got eyes like a hawk." Molly leaned back and brought one knee up to her chest. She hugged it with her arms. "I swear Stella has him spying on us."

Molly Cassidy fit the Garters and Lace profile to a T. Young, thin and beautiful were her obvious attributes, but there were other criteria she met as well. Stella made sure she employed girls who were open-minded, friendly, and uninhibited. Which helped convert the former jazz club into a land of sexual fantasy, where even the naughtiest desires had the chance to come true.

The club had two designated areas for "private parties", one on the upper balcony overlooking the stage and another on the main floor, tucked way in the back. The lower VIP Seating, as Stella preferred to call it, harvested most of the activity. Young bachelors treating themselves to first lap dances, and seasoned veterans whiling away the hours with an assortment of eager women they'd come to know well during their five-time-a-week habit.

The balcony, also known as the Champagne Room, was home to more serious activity. Reserved for customers willing to pay for a little extra attention. The area provided refuge from the noise and crowd, and the price tag guaranteed top-notch service with no interruptions. A great deal of debauchery took place in the upper level—stories that were never meant to see the light of day. Annie would know. She'd frequented the balcony more then her fair share of times. And when she wasn't a participant, she'd access the secret entrance from stairs hidden backstage and watch the private shows through a well-hidden peep hole.

Molly had taught her everything she needed to know about the Champagne Room, and that knowledge had paid off in dividends. Her work upstairs had won her a top spot as one of Stella's most sought-after girls. And right now, the Champagne Room weighed heavy on her mind.

"When do you go on?" she asked Molly, her voice growing husky.

The corner of her friend's mouth slanted upward. "Not for awhile. Why, did you have something in mind?"

Annie caught her lower lip between her teeth. "I'm feeling sort of ... overstimulated."

Molly took her time letting the words sink in, and Annie's nipples hardened beneath her steady gaze. The redhead nodded in approval. "You need me to finish you off, Anastasia?"

Annie's fingertips stroked her naked breasts. She fidgeted in her seat. "Would you?"

Rising from her chair, Molly made her way closer, a slow smirk making its way across her face. "Ask me nicely and I will," she said, her smokey voice releasing a series of shivers up Annie's arms. Her friend's body began to move to the provocative sounds of music playing in the background.

Annie sat up straight and parted her lips. Molly wanted her to beg.

Molly reached for the buttons of her shirt and slowly unbuttoned them. One by one. "Well, are you going to ask me, Anastasia?" Full breasts spilled out, her large pink nipples already erect. "Or are you feeling suddenly shy?"

"Molly," Annie began, still squirming in her chair. Her heart thumped against her chest, nearly matching the base onstage. "Please? Help me?"

A wave of desire moved through her as Molly stepped closer. "I thought you'd never ask." Their eyes melted together. "Did someone out there do this to you?" she whispered. "Get you all hot and bothered?"

Annie nodded.

Sculpted eyebrows arched in amusement. The redhead inched forward until her nipples nearly touched Annie's lips. "Would you like to suck them?"

Again, Annie nodded. More than ready. Her tongue slid out and glided across her upper lip. "Can we go upstairs?"

Molly let out a silvery little laugh. "Feeling modest tonight, are we?" She pursed glossy, red lips together. "Whatever you want, Anastasia. Whatever you want ..."

Once her shift ended, Annie hurried down West 18th Street, her black heels clicking along the uneven pavement. The streets were empty with the exception of occasional passing cars. She tucked her chin into the khaki collar of her lightweight trench coat, the hemline grazing her bare calves with every step. The night felt unusually dark and seemed to only get darker the farther she walked, despite the many lampposts flickering overhead. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and shielded her face from the oncoming traffic.

Annie felt increasingly afraid. Something about this night felt undoubtedly ominous. Maybe because her thoughts lingered on the night before, and how terrified Hudson had been when she'd found her crouched on the floor of her room. Or maybe it was because she'd tried to call her friend three times over the past few hours, but every attempt was met with a busy signal. Annie's pulse raced and her breaths quickened as she made her way closer to home, the perfect invitation for panic to settle in.

Wind from the lake blew between the buildings. Low-hanging branches from the trees dotting the curb clawed against her jacket. Underneath, all she wore was her black lace thong and a loose-fitting sundress that barely skimmed the curve of her cheeks.

For some strange reason Annie felt eyes on her, watching from the shadows as she passed by. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the impression away. As soon as she crossed to the safety of the next block the sensation reappeared, like the eyes had no problem keeping her pace. Always one step ahead. Is this how Hudson had been feeling? Annie shivered, the tiny hairs rising along the back of her neck.

When her building came into view, Annie quickened her steps, anxious to leave the darkened streets behind. She flung open the glass door and tucked herself inside, finally free of the unseen gaze.

Taking the steps two by two, she made her way to the fourth floor in record time. For a moment she stood between the two apartment doors, one across from the other. She could turn left into the comfort of her own home, or turn right and into the thick, somber atmosphere of her friend's. Her inner voice told her to turn right.

Scrambling around in deep pockets, Annie pulled out a set of keys. She flicked through the few that dangled from the ring, metal clinking against metal. When the door opened, more darkness met her. Inching toward the halogen lamp, she flicked on the light, her eyes automatically traveling to the grandfather clock in the corner.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

"There are no secrets that time does not reveal."

4:32. In a couple more hours, the sun would wake up. Another hour or so after that and she would have to start her day.

In the quiet, Annie held her breath. Even her pulse seemed to pause in the eerie stillness of the room. Wearily, her eyes moved toward the closed bedroom door. She pulled her jacket tighter as a chill made its way up her arms. What did she have to be afraid of? Hudson was obviously asleep. But just to be safe, she'd need to make sure.

Her hand found the handle and very slowly, the door creaked open in the dark. Moonlight shown through the window, casting a jagged, silver pattern across the puckered quilt.

Annie let out a sigh.

All was as it should be.