Page 14 of Whispers in the Dark
My eyes lock onto hers…
My knees connect to the ground…
Her arms wrap around me…
My heart thunders beneath my chest…
A high-pitched whistle pulls me from my thoughts as I watch her walk to the end of the stage, slightly stumbling in a pair of sparkly heels that look too high for any sane person to walk in. My eyes drift up and over her long tan legs to the gold bikini bottom barely covering her ass, to her full breasts practically spilling out of her gold matching top.
I have to be dreaming. That’s all. This is probably just some fucked-up nightmare I can’t wake up from.
I shake my head vigorously and close my eyes, but after I open them and find her still in the same spot, immense dread washes over me.
She swallows nervously as she reaches the pole, her hand shaking as she curls her slender fingers around it. She tries to smile, but as she gazes around at everyone, her smile falters, and her eyes glisten with unshed tears as she squints. And her glasses, which should be on the bridge of her nose, are, instead, being used to hold back her waist-length dark brown strands of hair.
Why the fuck isn’t she wearing her glasses?
“Goddamn! Shake that sweet ass for us.” A man stands at the very end of the stage, his hands on the edge as he leans closer to yell, “Let me see that pussy, gorgeous. I’ll pay top dollar for a private ride.” He holds out a wad of bills, throwing them at her feet like she’s some whore.
Red.
All I fucking see is red.
“What do you want to do?”
Leo’s words drown out as I stride across the floor, shoving men out of my way. An upbeat song blares through the speakers, a song she’s probably expected to strip to. To bare every inch of her flawless body to these fuckers.
My heart races as my eyes remain fixed on her.
“Take it off!” men begin to chant in a demanding chorus. Whistles and hollers echo around me as I watch Alina remove her hand from the pole, allowing it to fall to her side. She looks around nervously before suddenly closing her eyes and raising her hands to the knot behind her back.
I think I’m about to have a fucking heart attack.
I push one of the assholes to the floor, making room for myself as I place my hands on the stage, gripping the edge, and haul myself up.
My feet land with a heavy thud as I stand to my full height, towering over Alina. Her eyes pop open, and panic swirls throughout her brown irises.
Brown eyes that a man could get lost in and never want to be found.
“M-Mauro,” she stutters, dropping her hands and encircling her arms around herself. She takes a step back, tripping in the process. I catch her before she can fall, wrapping my arm around her waist, my fingers sliding over her smooth skin. As I pull her against me, her eyes lock with mine, her cheeks heating up with most likely embarrassment.
But maybe something more…
“Hey, asshole! Get out of the way so we can see the show!”
The words send a bucket of ice water over my head, instantly transporting me back to reality.
A security guard, probably half my size, strides down the stage toward us. I yank my gun from the back of my pants and aim it straight at him. He freezes, throwing his hands into the air as he slowly backs away.
Glancing to my side, I watch as men try to peek around me to view her. They’re trying to see everything they have no right to ever fucking see. They’re envisioning her in their minds doing fucked-up things.
And I can’t allow it.
Why? Simple.
Because none of these assholes are worthy to see, touch, or even breathe the same fucking air as her.
Without a second thought, I shove my gun into my waistband and throw her over my shoulder, placing my hand over her ass to shield her from prying eyes.
