Hunted: Chapter 9

A week later, I’m regretting my decision whilst Justin puts the finishing touches on my fertility goddess outfit. As Lexi suggested, I’m wearing a moss green silk skirt that is basically a collection of scarves attached to a waistband of gold that sits on my hips underneath my stomach and accentuating the slight roundness. There’s a matching bra, with sheer tendrils of fabric that hang down and tickle my torso. My makeup is dark, and my freshly dyed red hair is up in an elaborate updo with a sort of gold crown in the shape of twigs and leaves nestled into it. Hanging from the crown is another sheer scarf that covers my face from under my eyes, down to my chin. That addition was mine, just on the off chance anyone from my past comes in.

“You look like a fucking goddess!” Lexi squeals, taking me in as I stand in front of the mirror whilst Justin fixes the small anklet of bells around my ankle. I’m barefoot, which is a relief as I doubt I’d be able to wear the high heeled shoes the others do.

“T-thanks,” I manage to stammer out, feeling a little queasy. I do feel pretty attractive, and there is something sexy about the hint my slightly rounded stomach gives.

“Showtime,” I hear Grey say from the doorway, and I catch his gaze in the mirror. “You look beautiful, Laura,” he tells me with a kind and appreciative smile.

“Thank you, Grey,” I whisper back, taking a steadying breath and turning around to walk out the door.

I head towards the back staircase, which is for staff use only, leading down into the basement. The whole room is soundproof, so it’s not until the door at the bottom is opened that I can hear all the chatter. The others go ahead of me, taking up position on their various tables around the room. We decided that we’d all dance to the music suited to belly dancing, but that I would come in as the music starts, dancing my way to my table.

The music begins, and I step through the door, nerves fluttering in my stomach. A hand stops me, and I look up to see Ryan’s chocolate brown eyes staring down at me.

“You look fucking gorgeous, Laura,” he rasps out, his eyes scorching me as they slide down and then back up my body. “Dance for me tonight,” he orders, and I give him a nod then start my routine.

Rolling my hips in time with the music, I dance my way up the steps that lead to the table’s surface. I move in a slow circle, taking in the men sitting around me, and see hunger and appreciation in their eyes which widen as I move my hands in such a way as to highlight my rounded stomach.

One, in particular, a dark haired man in a suit, sits up straighter, his nostrils flaring as he takes me in. He’s completely ignoring the suited gentleman beside him who is trying to talk to him about something. I don’t hold his gaze for long; there’s an intensity to it that leaves me feeling unnerved. Like I am a prize to be taken home and locked up.

I look up and seek out Ryan’s gaze as I twist and turn, doing a couple of stomach rolls and turning my hands in circles above me in time to the beat. It feels incredible being up here and so openly admired, and I get lost in the dance and the freedom that I’m feeling down to my very soul. It’s unlike anything that I have ever experienced before and gives me such a heady rush that I understand why the others enjoy dancing like this.

The song draws to a close, and I end my dance, out of breath but elated. I make my way down the steps to find Mr. Dark and Intense waiting. He bows his head, handing me a wad of banknotes.

“Until next time, Aphrodite,” he whispers, his voice deep and dark like wind whispering around gravestones on a moonless night.

I shudder but take the cash, and I swear I can feel his eyes follow me as I head towards Ryan and the stairs.