Page 3 of Unleashed By Eden

Moving through the club is second nature now, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. When I first started working here, the decadence overwhelmed me, along with the constant attention from patrons. But now, it feels like home. The kind of home you carve out for yourself and learn to own. Not the warm, cozy home I used to dream about.

Madame Anna, Hailee, and the other goddesses are my family. Although I’m probably the black sheep among them. Every family has one . . .

“Vi!” Hailee calls from behind the bar, a smile on her glossy lips. “Can you give me a hand before Le Jardin starts?”

“Sure.”

“Two whiskeys for the hotties in the back booth. Blue jeans.”

I grin. “Got it.”

The perks of working here.

Grabbing a tray, I place the crystal tumblers on it and weave through the club toward the back booth. It doesn’t take long to spot them—two guys in conversation, their worn jeans and sneakers a stark contrast to the tailored suits we usually see in here.

The blond one catches my eye. My gaze lingers a second too long before I drop my eyes to the floor, where they’re supposed to be. I keep walking, adding a little more sway to my hips.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers under his breath to his friend as I approach.

A smirk dances on my lips.

Gotcha. Hook, line, and sinker.

I lower myself gracefully to my knees, setting the tray on the table in front of them.

Blondie clears his throat, and my smirk widens.

“Is there anything else I can get you, gentlemen?”

“Your cute little ass on my lap, for starters.”

I rise from my knees and settle onto his lap, deliberately rolling my hips until I feel the hard length of his cock. His hands tighten at my hips to still them.

“So, what brings you to Eden tonight?”

“Gorgeous women, of course . . .” He leans in, breath skimming my ear. “You.”

His thumb traces a slow circle over my nipple through the thin black satin of my dress.

“Uh-uh, you know you can’t touch in here,” I admonish with a wink.

“Shame. What’ll it cost me to touch you outside of here?”

“Speak to Madame Anna or Hailee, they’ll arrange it.” I trail my fingers along his hairline at the back of his neck.

“Already counting down the seconds.” His eyes ooze desire.

I rock back against his hard length again to seal the deal. A date outside of Eden is a lot of money, and I’m not going to pass up the opportunity. It’s common for patrons to ask for dates beyond these four walls. Often they need a plus-one for a work function, wedding, or party they don’t want to face alone.

I don’t blame them. Eden’s my only social life, and it’s work. I spend my days on my own, building my portfolio as Vega Wolfe. My nights at Eden give me the freedom to be selective with the commissions I take. I live a simple life, and Eden affords me the income to keep it that way.

The room’s tension shifts, snapping me out of my thoughts. It’s subtle, but I notice it. Conversations thinning into murmurs, eyes darting. Usually when that happens, someone famous has walked through the door. I don’t bother looking. It happens all the time in here. This is Eden, after all. The place where people come to disappear.

“Is that . . . Carter Ashford?” my guy says under his breath.

I still.

Then I slowly brush my hair over my shoulder and take a quick look.