Sinful (Deadly Omen Book 2) by Jenica Saren

Author:Jenica Saren [Saren, Jenica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-24T16:00:00+00:00

Two hours into my shift, I had already passed Buzzed Boulevard and was halfway down Tipsy Trail. I was thoroughly enjoying being back in my element, interacting with strangers, and, most importantly, being back on stage.

There was a thrill that came with being the centre of attention that was unrivalled by any drug or liquor. I loved knowing that every eye in the place was on me when I was up there, I never had to look or double check that anyone was paying attention.

I knew that I was good, I knew that I was hot as fuck, and I knew that anyone not looking would be wishing they had. The uproarious sound of rounds of applause made me downright giddy.

It made me a little disappointed that I hadn't been feeling this way in recent weeks, that I'd felt unsure and needed validation in any form. It wasn't who I was. That wasn't me. I knew that some people would call me stuck up, self-centred, and even cocky, but I didn't think I was. I just knew my worth and tried to own it every second of every day.

Or rather, I had. Before I ran away from home, for all intents and purposes, and set up shop in the first place I dropped into. It wasn't like me to do that, to act that way. Being back in the club, I felt more and more like some higher power had a hand in the sudden shift in my life.

In fact, nothing had seemed very typical at all recently, especially me. One might chalk it up to stress, but I was certain that there was so much more to it than that.

About half an hour after my last set, I was perched on a stool at the bar, chatting mindlessly with an older gentleman that owned a car dealership. He was sweet and generous, handing me a twenty every half hour for my company.

Too bad I'd already forgotten his name.

I nodded when I was supposed and gave a charismatic smile every so often to keep him appeased. I laughed at his stories that were meant to be funny, even though I knew nothing about the people involved in them, and I diverted every time he asked me about myself. It was like nothing had ever changed.

As I was responding to his comment about my music choices, I thought I felt a hand brush over my spine, lightly and barely noticeable. I brushed it off since there were a lot of drunk people in the club at this time of night and their balance wasn't always what one would call top of the line.

However, as I continued talking to my customer - Tom, as he reminded me - I felt it again, this time much lower than just my spine. I spun around on my stool and pinned a short, stocky, balding man with a glare.

"Excuse you," I said coldly.

He shrugged his shoulders unapologetically. "Relax, sugar," the man said with a cocky grin that made me want to knock his teeth out.

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