They should be.
"I'm not enjoying myself." I sighed, taking another sip from the bottle before I placed it over the glass table in front of me. At least the music in this place wasn't shitty or too electronic, it was a slower beat that matched the strippers' routines perfectly, or maybe I was overanalyzing things because I was a bit high. "Here's to being 24."
"Come on, I'm glad you were born, even though you piss me the fuck off sometimes." Zayn nudged me with his elbow and I rolled my eyes at him, focusing my attention on a certain someone that had walked closer to the bar across the room.
Her blonde hair was shiny, falling in delicate waves down her back... and fuck me, the corset she had on valued her hour-glass body and made her ass look perfectly round, especially with the black stockings and heels.
The tiny thong she had on left little to my imagination and I was glad my cock wasn't completely in a coma, maybe we could end the night on a different note.
Her back was turned to me but I just knew she was hot, I mean, her body was enough to make my heart race... and then she slowly turned on her side, which was enough for me to see a black inked design on her hip.
A snake.
My eyes slowly traveled up her stomach, stopping momentarily on her full tits being pushed together by the corset, and I finally looked at her face just when she decided to completely turn in my direction.
Oh, my fucking god.
Happy birthday to me.
Everything around me seemed to disappear and her blue eyes finally met mine, as if she could feel my shameless staring from across the room. And the completely shocked expression on her face confused me very much because I assumed she had followed me here to kill me.
Well, our little Cleo clearly wasn't expecting to see me here tonight... so what the fuck was she doing here?
This felt like a hallucination and I still wasn't sure if my brain was playing tricks on me, but she didn't look away and we just stared at each other, probably trying to process whatever the fuck was going on.
To be honest, I was a little disappointed that she hadn't come here to find me... I knew we'd both play this 'tag you're it game' until one of us finally died. And of course she would be the one making her way to hell, this was the best fucking birthday present ever.
Because I was going to kill her tonight.
But, of course, I was going to have my fun before that... she was dressed like a stripper, so the only explanation as to why she was in a club that she knew was full of my father's clients, had to be because she was working. And if she was working, she couldn't blow her cover... and there was only one way to prove that.
"Hey, love. Yes, you." I called the waitress that was standing just a few steps away from me, never taking my eyes off Cleo. "I want a special dance from the blonde one over there... you know it's my birthday."
"Anything you want, Mr. Styles." She replied, but I was still too busy raking my eyes down Cleo's body... and fuck me, my memory of her in that red dress didn't do justice to what I was seeing.
She looked away from me, her eyes scanned the place as if she was looking for a way out, but then she grimaced and clenched her fists by the side of her body, as if she had remembered something important.
If she had a job to finish, then she couldn't simply leave... she'd draw unnecessary attention. And if she refused to give me a dance, the securities would notice there was something wrong with her and that she didn't actually work here.
