Poison Laced Kiss

The line outside the club stretched almost endlessly around the building, packed with hungry bodies and hazy perfume that clung to the warm night air. I gave a slow, flirtatious smile to the bouncer as I stepped ahead of the crowd and pulled out my fake ID. He glanced at it, but his gaze rested more on me, my cleavage that is, than the card. His eyes roamed over my body, full of obvious admiration. "Go on in," he told me, lifting the velvet rope. The crowd behind me shouted in protest. "Hey, we've been waiting…" "Seriously?" I spun around with a half-smirk and let my fingers trail over the bouncer's hard chest. "Thanks, babe." And then I slipped inside before anyone could complain further. The thumping club bass surrounded me. Lights blazed quickly, blue, red, green, washing over people like waves off the ocean. The dance floor was filled with grinding and dancing bodies and the air was damp and sticky with sweat and booze and the pricey cologne. A massive beat dropped and the crowd exploded, arms waving, feet stamping. It was madness. Lovely, ordered madness. I elbowed through the crowd, eyes adjusting to the darkened interior, sweeping faces as I moved. No one I knew yet. I went on until I reached the long bar stretched across the back wall. Sliding onto one of the stools, I leaned forward on my elbows and caught the bartender's eye. "Vodka cranberry," I said, trying to keep the shake from my voice. He nodded and got up to get the bottle. I tapped my fingers against the shining counter, my eyes tracking around the club, counting doors, exits, corners, darkness. My heart pounding in my ears, I still held a smooth, peaceful expression. Normal. Just another girl having a good time. The bartender slid my drink toward me. “Thanks," I said, folding my fingers around the cold glass. I adjusted to glance over at the dance floor and the VIP balcony overhead. I took a deep gulp, the booze burning down but dulling the raw edges of my nerves. I needed the burn. I needed so much more of it. What I was doing tonight required more than courage. It cost everything. I could still hear my father's words echoing in my mind. Promise me you'll do this for the family. I had. And I would. And then I saw him. My heart skipped. Damien Vercelli. He was reclining on one of the plush couches up on the VIP floor, sitting idly as if he owned the air everyone breathed. He probably did. His dark wavy hair fell over his forehead, and those icy blue eyes swept past the crowd below him with the arrogance of a man used to power. There was a woman standing by him, clearly struggling for attention. He didn't even glance in her direction. He was just like in the picture in the file. I drained my drink, placed the glass on the table, and smoothed down my hair, fingers touching the hidden earpiece in my ear. "Target identified," I breathed, voice low and even. "Mission initiated." Without looking back, I crept along the edge of the crowd and vanished behind the STAFF ONLY black curtain. Along the narrow dark corridor behind were changing rooms and storage doors. I paused briefly beside one of them, thudding my heart, when I heard someone in heels approaching me. My fingers closed around the little syringe in my pocket. The pole dancer I was waiting for rounded the corner, lipstick in hand as she pouted at her mirror compact. Just my luck. The timing was everything. I strode forward quickly. "Hey," I said, attempting a smile. "Sorry to disturb…” She barely spun around before the needle struck her in the neck. Her eyes opened wide in shock before they fell shut. I grabbed her as she fell, dragging her into a nearby utility closet. It wasn't elegant, but it would have to do. She and I weren't related, but looked close enough. Same size, same shape. I got undressed in a rush, working by the dim light of my phone. Wig, makeup, glittery heels, and that red little lingerie set. Everything went on there in a flash. I tied her hands and shoved a towel into her mouth and locked the closet and cleaned up. A few minutes later, I came out. The costume didn't leave much to the imagination, and the heels made my legs look long. I reapplied my lips and flattened the wig. The dancer's stage name had been Cherry, according to the ID I'd swiped from her little clutch. As I walked towards the velvet-rope stairs to the VIP section, the two guards looked up. One of them grinned and nudged the other. "Cherry, huh?" he said, stepping aside. "You're up." He opened the door. I walked through, but not before one of them slapped my butt. I bristled, jaw clenched, but didn't retaliate. Because I was in. And his eyes, Damian Vercelli's cold, blue eyes had just landed on me. Damien's frost blue gaze was so intense that for an instant that it sent me off kilter. It locked onto me where I stood and as I prowled toward him slowly, moving to the seductive rhythm pounding through the club, I don’t think he even blinked. He scanned my, no, Cherry's, lingerie set like a shark scenting blood. When I caught up to him, I stopped a breath away and began to move, my hips swirling and spinning with practiced sensuality. I ran my hands down my sides, never once breaking eye contact. His jaw clenched. His fists stayed in place, balled fists against his thighs. But those eyes, they never wavered. The air between us crackled, and I hated how palpable the pull was. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, that burning and insistent pull, the seeping heat between my thighs. I slid down to the ground at his feet, following my fingers up his legs. He leaned forward, breathing short, lips parted. I let my fingertips brush across his thighs once more, teasing, evoking a reaction from him. "You're playing with fire, honey," he growled, his voice gravel and smoke. "Maybe I like fire," I said, my voice husky and flirtatious. His hand came so fast I barely saw it. I was kneeling one second, then being dragged onto his lap the next. His mouth slammed against mine, burning and starving, and I kissed him back, getting lost in the raging passion of it. His hand strayed up over my chest, fingers skirting the line of my b*a before tracking down to my waist and then digging deep into my a*s with a single tight squeeze that left me breathless. He grunted deep in his throat. "f**k. You're killing me." My breath caught, not only because of his words but because of how he spoke them. I was not supposed to be into it like this. He was the enemy. But at the moment, he just seemed like a man, a starving man, and I, bless my soul, was beginning to forget reality. His mouth was on my neck now, depositing heat down my skin, and my hands in his hair. We kissed as if we had been waiting a lifetime, teeth and tongue, wild and famished. And then I heard it. A small click and static in my ear, then a voice in the earpiece. "Target secured?" I froze lightly then pulled back slightly, panting. Damien glanced up at me, his lips swollen and eyes low lidded from kissing. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gruff. "Yeah," I lied with a tiny, breathless laugh. "Just… hot." He gave a smirk and stood, his arms still wrapped around me. He did not let me go as he walked out of the VIP section and towards the back door of the club. The bouncer silently opened the door, and Damien guided me into the waiting black car. As soon as we were inside, I straddled him again, kissing his jaw, trying to keep up the charade, except that now, it didn't feel like a charade. He growled out the name of a hotel to the driver, and the car began to move. "You always bring home strangers?" I whispered into his ear. He chuckled. "Home? Only the ones who dance like you." I rolled my eyes but kissed him back. Driving to the hotel was a blur of scorching kisses and muttered obscenities. We were already semi-freaking n***d by the time we reached his suite, well, I was. The door hadn't even shut behind us before we were on each other like animals. Clothes dropped to the floor, lips touched skin, and I lost my mind. I surrendered to Damien Vercelli, our family's enemy, with the need for sin on my lips and the knowledge that when the sun was up, I'd need to remember who I was and why I was there. But for tonight, I let him f**k me. And I let myself want it.