The crowd surged with energy, bodies bouncing in unison, hands slicing through the air, voices screaming in wild abandon. Hips swayed instinctively, following the rhythm as if possessed. Heat radiated from every corner of the dance floor, and sweat coated Tia’s skin, slick and warm. She shrugged off her shirt, leaving only a thin white top clinging to her, breath coming in ragged gasps. Her skin prickled under the strobe lights, every nerve alive, every pulse in sync with the booming bass.
From above, sharp eyes watched without pause. Rival’s hand snatched the microphone, voice cutting through the pounding music just as the beat began its climb toward another drop.
“Are you ready? Three, two, one, Nasty!”
The club exploded. The bass sank into her bones, merging with the flow of blood in
