Chapter 30
1998 Words
I peeped through the curtain—and I think my stomach just dropped somewhere on the floor.
Johnny’s cousins. And a bunch more of his relatives.
All of them.
I clutched my jacket tighter around me like it could shield me from what I was about to walk into.
All beautiful men. Sitting like kings on their thrones, drinking, laughing, having the time of their lives. All hyped for the main event.
The ladies.
Where the hell is Johnny?
He has to be here before this starts. I can't find him, and I’m freaking out. He's the reason why I'm in this situation.
Apparently, there were last-minute changes to the bachelor party. It was supposed to be on a yacht—classy, secluded. But no. Now it’s here, in a darn suite turned makeshift nightclub.
And the person behind all this is Tamara. And said there’d be twenty guys tops. But from what I can see, it’s at least double that. Maybe more.
Again, where the actual fudge is Johnny?!
The room is dim. Like the suite transformed into a secret club for rich, powerful men to get their fill of sin.
Tobacco. Liquor. Expensive cologne. All swirling in the air, thick enough to choke me.
I'm going to pass out.
I was still busy scanning the crowd when a flick on my shoulder made me yelp.
My knees knocked, I bent forward like a jump-scare victim, hands clenched and ready to fight whatever demon just touched me—
Only to find a disco ball glaring at me.
Roxy.
“What in the world are you doing, young woman?” he asked, arching a thin brow. His eyes were round, sharp, and zeroed in on me like I’d just peed on his custom rug.
Why does he always look at me like I’ve been caught red-handed stealing his last hair follicle?
“The performance is about to start. You’re Tamara’s girl, right? The one who can’t dance?”
Not just bald. Mean as well.
“I can’t guide you once you're out there. Just so you know, you are getting paid for this. So make it memorable. Hot. And don’t mess it up. Got that?”
“Ye–yeah,” I stammered.
“See that guy in the red shirt in the middle? It’s his last night of freedom. So give him a boner. Grind on him. Make him want to cheat. Make every man in here wish they could take you home. Just like I taught you.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Al—all of them?”
“This isn’t a gangbang, dear. It’s a bachelor party. You can take one or two customers to satisfy, and leave the others to my girls. You’re greedy.”
I was just asking. Why did he have to be so mean about it?
I looked around again. Still no Johnny. Just a bunch of testosterone-packed jerks like him.
“We should make him the happiest man tonight before he gets tied down forever,” Roxy sighed dramatically. “It could’ve been me. But no—I was blessed with balls instead of a hymen.”
“Roxy, I—”
“Take this,” he said, shoving a blue pill and a shot of something strong—tequila, probably—into my hands. “Now!”
“What is this?” I asked, terrified for my life.
“You’ll thank me later,” he grinned, then pushed the shot to my lips.
With no time to argue, I downed both. The tequila burned all the way down like it was scraping my throat raw.
“No more complaining. You’re the first performer. Set the bar. The pros will follow, but the first impression? That’s all on you.”
I winced and peeked back out.
“Where are the ladies?!” someone shouted, followed by whistles and obnoxious cheers. Of course, it was Andrew—Johnny’s most annoying cousin.
“Confidence is key. Own it!” Roxy hissed, then killed the lights and shoved me through the curtain. “Go! Go!”
“Roxy!” I whisper-yelled, but he just waved a warning finger and yanked the curtain shut behind me.
And now I was standing in the on a makeshift stage. Alone.
Then the music started.
Oh no. Not just any music—a sensual, sin-drenched beat that could get someone pregnant just from listening.
“You can do this,” I whispered to myself. “For the money. For a new life.”
It's not like this is worse than committing a murder.
I let the music sink into my bones. Closed my eyes. Breathed in the vibe.
Then I sat in the lone chair centerstage.
Spotlight on me.
The cheers were deafening.
I swear on every woman Johnny ever hooked up with—I will kick his shin if he doesn’t show up right now.
The beat pulsed through me.
I rolled my hips slow, dragging against the chair like it was a man I planned to leap frog on. And I somewhat picture it as Johnny.
My fingers slid from my neck down to my waist, gripping tight—reminding myself that this body is mine. Even if all these suits are already trying to claim it with their eyes.
I swung a leg over and straddled the chair backward, facing away from them.
The room howled.
I bent low, fingers trailing down the backrest, syncing with the rhythm.
If sin had a music, this was it—and I was riding it like I had nothing to lose.
My legs parted, teasing what this little dress hid. I opened my eyes—and there he was.
Johnny.
He’d just walked in, snatched a bottle from the bucket, and sat down… completely uninterested.
Weird.
Since when does Johnny ignore a half-naked woman? Especially one onstage.
What changed?
“Come on, baby! Over here!” Andrew shouted, gesturing wildly.
I dropped to the floor and began to crawl toward him.
This is so awkward. And he’s calling me like I’m a dog. I’m literally wearing a freaking bunny costume.
I stopped between his manspread and looked up.
His eyes were soaked in lust.
A man is always gonna be a man.
“Ohh, a good girl and a wild babe. I dig it,” he laughed, looking around for backup. His cousins roared.
He kept elbowing Eros, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
“Gonna give Daddy a head?” Andrew grinned, cupping my chin.
Before his lips could touch mine, I shoved him back and strutted toward the groom-to-be.
The rich crowd erupted. Teasing Andrew.
Wait… what was the groom's name again? Tamara told me earlier, but it slipped right out of my head. All I know is, he's getting married this week—and that’s about it.
I spot Johnny, lounging just behind the groom, finally glancing up with a tight frown.
He looked like he was not in the mood. And when does that ever happen? Right—never. Until tonight.
“Ready for the best part, boys?” I asked, my full of confidence. Sultry, low, the perfect epitome of a slut... on purpose, obviously.
I unbuttoned my jacket slowly, deliberately, and peeled it off—revealing the most scandalous outfit I’ve ever dared to wear in front of people.
I tossed it somewhere, and it landed right on Daniel’s face.
He caught it, sniffed it and beamed. “Smells like peaches!” he hollered, waving it in the air like it was a darn victory flag.
And just like that, I had Johnny’s full attention.
Peaches.
His eyes narrowed, locked on me like a sniper. Intense. Curious. A little dangerous.
That reminded me—he loved it when I watched him make out with half the women in his contact list. Loved mocking me with that smug little smirk, like he could have anyone he wanted.
Well, newsflash, Johnny Miles. So can I.
“Whoa…” The groom-to-be laughed nervously, leaning back on the couch, hands up like he was surrendering. “I don’t think my fiancée’s gonna be cool if she finds out about this.”
“Just dig in, Ed! Just dig in!” Of course, Daniel had to egg him on.
Ed. Edward. That’s it.
Tall, blond, probably good with his tongue—but I doubt he could hammer a nail without Googling it first.
I pressed my chest against him, teasing, slow. He looked overwhelmed by the—well, the softness of me. Honestly, even Johnny never got over how good I felt.
Then I felt another pair of hands on my hips.
A sin, considering this man’s about to be somebody’s husband.
My eyes darted to Johnny, and holy hell—that fire in his eyes? I was burning. Not from guilt, no. From the thrill of watching him watch me.
“Give him a minute in heaven!” someone shouted from the crowd.
Without hesitation—because this night was never leaving this room—I dipped my head and kissed Edward. Feverishly. Just shy of indecent.
And he kissed me back. Full French and no shame.
It caught me off guard, but he grabbed the back of my head and deepened it, right when I was about to pull away.
Suddenly, my whole body felt hot, like something ignited deep inside me. I didn’t know where it came from—but that kiss? It tasted like freedom, and fire.
A moan slipped out as he guided my hips, making me grind on him like we were alone.
I bit his lower lip—hard—then finally pulled away.
“I think it’s too early for the birthday boy to get a boner, don’t you think, lads?” I teased, standing up and turning around slowly. Making sure Johnny saw my tattoo.
The crowd of horny men lost their minds. And honestly? I was feeling something. Drunk on attention? Maybe. Or maybe it was that little blue pill Roxy gave me earlier. Whatever it was—it had me glowing.
“How about I give someone else a good time?” I purred, sauntering over to the round table and sitting with my legs crossed, facing the one person who clearly needed seducing tonight.
Johnny. And oh great Johnny with a long, thick banana d**k, was he getting crankier by the second.
“Eenie…” I pointed at a pretty boy in a casual shirt, who was biting his lip like he was ready to risk it all. “Meenie, miny…” I let my finger wander randomly before it landed on Johnny.
I reached out with my foot, let it slide up his leg… higher… until the sole of my heel rested right against his crotch.
“Moe,” I whispered, pressing gently—right on the target.
His brows furrowed, jaw clenched. Not in pain. Just... on the brink.
He smirked and caught my ankle. His grip? Possessive.
“Not that guy, he’s taken!” Andrew called out.
“He’s f*****g his sec—”
“Shut the f**k up, Andrew,” Daniel hissed, smacking the back of his head.
“What? I’m just sayin’…” he muttered, sulkinh.
“Why don’t I start with the best man?” I suggested sweetly, tapping Johnny’s shin with my heel, pulling back, then tapping again—like a game.
“You know what you’re asking for,” he said, voice low, thick with heat.
And then he yanked me up—fast.
His lips crashed into mine like a storm, claiming every inch. His hands roamed, gripping, squeezing, owning.
Possessive.
Wild.
It felt like the world faded. All I could see was him, and that look—intense and melting, like he was ready to ruin me.
My heart pounded. My blood rushed.
Oh... I’m so about to be railed—
No.
I meant, he’s about to be.
- Writer
