In Bed with the Beast (Naughty Princess Club 2)

“Honestly, I don’t even care if you just gave my boyfriend a boner. That was so fucking hot!”

“I just want to state for the record that I did not get a boner!” PJ shouts, not moving from his position in the chair. “Can you please make sure Beast knows I DID NOT GET A BONER?!”

I kind of feel bad that he sounds so worried, but he deserves to be scared right now, after assuming I wasn’t ready to dance at his club.

“Oh, stop being such a baby,” Cindy complains with a roll of her eyes. “Tell Belle that was a great lap dance.”

“It was a great lap dance. Superb. But I did not get a boner,” he reiterates seriously.

“Honey, you can put your hands down now,” Cindy laughs, wrapping one of her arms around my shoulders and giving me a squeeze.

PJ is still muttering to himself about boners and something about witnesses signing a notarized letter stating that fact, when he finally lowers his hands and gets up from the chair.

“Tell her she can dance tonight,” Cindy orders.

“You can dance tonight. But you make sure you tell Beast—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it!” Mrs. Potter announces. “You didn’t get a boner. Although I don’t know how that was possible. I got a lady boner watching that! So, what time should I be at the club tonight? And is this a fancy place where I need to pull out one of my dresses, or will a nice blouse and slacks be sufficient?”

PJ leaves the room, warning me that I’m the one who’s going to break the news to Vincent about me dancing tonight, because he’d like to keep all of his body parts safely attached to his body. As Cindy and Mrs. Potter excitedly discuss what I should wear, everything I just did and what it means suddenly hits me.

I’m going to dance at a strip club tonight.

I’m going to get up on a stage in front of hundreds of strangers and take my clothes off.

Oh, God. What have I done?!

Chapter 26: I’m Just Here for Moral Support

“What the hell are you doing here?”

I whirl around to face Vincent at the back of the packed club, putting my hands on my hips and lifting my chin, fully prepared to give him a piece of my mind. Instead of calling him when I got home earlier to let him know what was happening tonight, I decided instead to practice what I would say to him when he saw me here. I figured it would be best to just show up ready to dance instead of dealing with him trying to change my mind over the phone and killing my spirits.

“I’m dancing tonight, and don’t you say one word about how I’m not ready or I swear to God, Vincent, I will grab the closest glass from a table, break it, and use it as a shiv on you,” I tell him, channeling my best Ariel attitude.

Instead of giving me grief, his eyes scan up and down my body, making my skin heat.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” he asks with a raise of one eyebrow.

“Yes. Yes I am. Got something to say about that?” I ask in irritation.

His eyes trail down my body again and I try not to shiver. I don’t need him to know just how easily I’m affected by him when I’m trying to remain calm and keep the upper hand.

Cindy told me to put on a button-down shirt when I came to the club so I wouldn’t have to pull anything up and over my head and ruin all the hard work Ariel did to me when I got here and snuck into the back dressing room without Vincent seeing me. Before I left his house, I grabbed the only white button-down dress shirt in his closet, which was shoved way in the back behind all of his T-shirts. It was three sizes too big for me, so I tied it at my waist and rolled up the sleeves to my elbows. I paired it with a short black skirt and the silver sparkly heels Ariel had let me borrow. I figured I should wear the things for as long as possible before I got on stage, so I could get used to walking in them and not fall flat on my face.

Ariel curled my long hair to big, bouncy waves and piled it up on top of my head, with a few long strands hanging down, using a clip that I’ll be able to easily remove at the start of my dance, to let all my hair come tumbling down. I put my foot down about false eyelashes so instead, she just used a tube of magical mascara that made my naturally long lashes thick and full. I’m kind of thankful she didn’t go too overboard with the makeup and just highlighted my features with some black eyeliner and glittery eyeshadow. The only thing I let her go crazy with was bold, red lipstick. I like how sexy it makes me feel, and I needed all the sexy feelings I can get right now.