Page 12 of Silken Chains
That dress on her?
Fuck, it’s like it’s vacuum-sealed onto her, every damn curve popping out and begging for attention. Too tight around her tits and ass, like she’s wearing it just to screw with me.
What the hell is she doing here?
“Victor,” a sultry voice slinks into my ear like oil over water.
Fucking Eleni, always in my VIP area. I swear she’s either got dirt on my guys, or she just knows how to play them right.
She never misses a Friday night, despite how fucking livid her father, Costas Theodorou of the notorious Theodorou Greece mafia clan, would be if he found out she’s dancing in my club. Tonight, she’s decked out in gold, trying her hardest to outshine everything else.
“Missed me?” she purrs. Her cold, entitled hand makes its way to my groin.
No fucking way. Fucking her once was all it took to know she was more in love with her own voice than anything else. And by anything, I mean anything.
“I missed you,” she drawls, her Greek accent thick and intentional.
I pry her hand off, holding back the urge to snap. “Not now, Eleni. Fuck off.”
She pouts, looking all wounded. What a performance. “You’re such an ass, Victor.”
I smirk. “You knew that when you climbed into bed with me.”
But she’s already become background noise because my attention’s riveted on her—the unexpected guest in the tight red dress and her many shots of whiskey.
Laura.
A thrill surges within me.
Chapter 5
Laura
“ONE MORE, please!”
I try to outshout the pulsating bass as I gesture for another whiskey shot to a bartender. She nods and promptly pours the golden liquid into the glass before placing it in front of me.
Swallowing the shot in one go, the burn of the whiskey contrasts sharply with the cold pinch of the dress. As I set the empty glass on the counter, I lock eyes with the too-cool-for-school bartender and gesture for one more.
What the hell was I thinking?
After witnessing my bookstore reduced to ashes today, I should be at home, spoon-deep in Ben & Jerry’s, drowning in tears and comfy blankets.
But here I am. Can’t sit thanks to this dress that’s two sizes too small. Can’t stand because, with every bass thud, I feel another part of me jiggle. Honestly, Ben & Jerry’s was the smarter choice. The frigid air of Club V isn’t doing me any favors, either, making my nipples prickle from the chill and reminding me exactly how exposed my ass cheeks feel in this getup.
Damnit, Serena, where the hell are you?
How in the world did she even talk me into this? Right. The promise of an exclusive VIP entrance and endless free whiskey. “It’s a promotional thing for my book business,” she’d said, batting her eyelashes innocently. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”
Fun. Right. And now she’s nowhere to be found.
“Why’d you even come?” I muse aloud, though I’m not sure if I’m asking myself or the silent bartender.
I fish out my phone from my purse, the screen illuminating a string of missed calls and texts.
Gothic Goddess Ser: Hey babe, I am SOOOOO SORRY! Lucas has a fever, and I can’t make it to Club V. But try to have fun without me! And find a handsome man to flirt with ;) xoxo. Love yah.
Fuck.
