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VIOLET CANDY WRAPPED HER fingers around the pole with one hand, as if she'd done it a million times. The moment she started moving, the entire vibe in the room changed. There wasn't a single clap or cheer, just silence from the men watching—no one dared interrupt her performance.
She began slowly, rolling her hips to the beat. Her movements were fluid, effortless. Each shift of her body, every turn, and drop was captivating. She arched backward, clinging to the pole as she leaned almost upside down, her back elegantly stretching out, drawing every eye to her. One leg rose high, straight and strong, while the other wrapped around the pole, holding her in place with a quiet strength.
'Sugar coated...
Lies unfolded...
You'll still eat the wrapper...'
Her gaze swept the room but landed on no one in particular. Still, it felt like she was locking eyes with each person present. The lights caught the curve of her waist, the subtle outlines of muscle beneath her skin, and the shimmer of her heels as she spun once, twice, then crouched low with both hands on the floor. Without missing a beat, she pushed herself back up, sliding one hand through her hair as she turned again, her back arching, hips moving with perfect timing.
Scott was the first to lean in, captivated, a half-smile on his lips. Dale followed, swirling his drink slowly, his eyes glued to every motion she made, like he was witnessing something unique.
Even Kai had changed his stance—he hadn't touched his drink or said a word since she started. But now, his gaze was locked on her, the way her thighs wrapped around the pole, her body bending in seemingly impossible ways. His expression was calm, but the tension in his jaw and the stillness of his posture spoke volumes.
Violet Candy commanded the room.
She flipped forward into a graceful spin, balancing on one arm as her legs hovered above the ground. She spun once, then let herself slide back down, rolling against the pole as the music climbed to its slow, pulsing high.
Violet kept moving, slowly spinning with one leg hooked high on the pole and her body curving downward in a perfect arc. When she slid down again, her thighs flexed with calm precision, her heels softly clinking against the stage. Every motion was deliberate, her body never missing a beat. She didn't dance for attention; she moved like she already owned the room.
Scott leaned forward, resting both arms on his knees, eyes glued to her as he chuckled softly.
"Jesus," he murmured, shaking his head. "She's better than half the shows I've seen in Vegas."
Dale nodded, still holding his drink, untouched for minutes.
"She's sexy as fuck," he said.
Violet turned again, lifting one arm high as her body rolled against the pole, her hips swaying in wide, smooth circles that made it hard to look away. Her skin, a glowing golden-brown, sparkled under the purple lights, accentuating every curve.
Kai had been captivated since she stepped on stage, and now he couldn't peel his eyes away.
Her skin was smooth, lightly slick with sweat from the lights, and that perfect in-between tone made every highlight pop. He guessed she was mixed—Black and white, maybe—with a striking bone structure and soft cheeks, making her stand out in a way most women couldn't.
She dropped into a slow split, legs stretched wide, her chest up and arms out, head tilted back. Then she rolled back up, rising with an ease that seemed effortless.
Kai didn't even realize he was holding his breath.
There was something dangerously confident about her, too self-assured to be dancing for anyone but herself. Yet here she was, moving for him as if the stage was built just for her.
Luckily, he was a dangerous man too. He had nothing to fear.
Scott chuckled again, giving Dale a playful nudge with his elbow.
"Wouldn't mind keeping her all to myself tonight," he said quietly.
Kai barely heard him.
Halfway through her performance, the song faded, replaced by a slower, heavier track that thumped with a deeper bass. The lights dimmed more, casting a moody purple glow in the room, the kind that wrapped around skin and softened everything. Violet paused center stage, hand still on the pole, her chest rising and falling with controlled breaths.
Then she stepped down without losing the beat.
Her heels clicked softly with every step. Her hips swayed perfectly, the violet straps of her outfit catching the light as she walked forward. She didn't rush or break eye contact, her gaze locked on one person only.
Kai.
She ignored Scott, who was leaning back eagerly with a grin, and didn't glance at Dale, though he was clearly enjoying the show. Her focus stayed on Kai, whose body had tensed slightly in his seat.
Stopping right in front of him, she lowered herself slowly, knees pressing to the floor with her back straight and chin up. Her hands rested on her thighs, and while her smile was subtle, there was a quiet confidence that suggested she knew exactly the effect she had on him.
Kai's eyes roamed her body from head to toe, taking in the view now that she was close. She smelled like vanilla and something faintly sweet, but it lingered in a way that left a mark. Her skin looked softer up close, and her lips were slightly parted, her breathing steady.
Without a word, he reached for his glass.
He took a slow sip of whiskey, then set it down. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a folded wad of bills and smoothly tucked it into her bra, his fingers brushing against her warm skin.
Violet giggled softly, not loud or forced—just genuine amusement. Then she placed both hands on his thighs and slid into his lap with practiced ease, her movements still slow and intentional.
Scott let out a low whistle.
"Well, damn," he remarked, watching intently. "Heard she usually keeps her distance."
"Lucky bastard," Dale added, raising an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. "Guess it's your birthday after all."
But Kai didn't respond, not stopping her moves, but his hands didn't touch her either.
She was straddling him now, her chest close to his, their faces just inches apart. Their expressions held steady, locked in a gaze that lingered as the music played on.
Something shifted in the air.
And neither looked away.
Scott leaned back, arms stretched across the top of the couch, observing the scene with growing amusement. His grin widened as Violet started to move against Kai, her body pressing into him, hands resting on his shoulders as her hips rolled with a smooth, practiced rhythm. She wasn't rushing anything; every movement was deliberate, and she was in control.
And Kai wasn't stopping her.
Scott tilted his head slightly, glancing between the two, chuckling softly.
"Well, would you look at that," he said, nudging Dale. "He's not pushing her away."
Dale raised his eyebrows as he watched Kai, surprised. "No, he isn't," he said, his tone curious. "Not like he did with the others."
Kai's gaze never wavered from Violet's face, even as she danced against him. His hands, once tense at his sides, rested gently on her waist. Not possessively—but just there, like he'd forgotten they were even moving. His fingers traced the sides of her hips through her outfit. His posture was unchanged, but a faint flush crept into his cheeks.
Dale shook his head, a smirk on his lips. "You sure you're not enjoying this?" he whispered, knowing Kai wouldn't answer.
Violet leaned closer, her lips brushing near Kai's ear, her chest lightly pressed against him. She whispered something soft, too quiet to catch over the music, and Kai's expression faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read her. His thumbs moved slightly along her waist, adjusting but not tightening.
Dale reached forward, pulling out some crisp hundreds and slipping them into the band of Violet's panties at her hip. She didn't flinch, her rhythm steady as her body kept moving, her hands on Kai's chest as she rolled her hips again, slower this time, making sure every movement was felt.
Scott chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "Wow, you've got the iciest son of a bitch in the city turning pink."
Dale leaned back, fixated on the pair. "What the hell," he remarked simply.
And Kai, who had stayed quiet the entire time, didn't deny it.
The dance continued for another minute, maybe two, though none of the men were counting. Violet moved as if time were on her side, hips rolling in slow, deliberate waves as she remained pressed against Kai. His hands had settled on her waist, no longer tense, but still cautious, as if he were unsure what to do with the heat flaring underneath his skin. Her perfume lingered, sweet and soft, hanging in the air like a secret.
Then, without a word, she began to pull away.
Leaning in close again, her lips brushed the edge of his jaw. Her breath was warm against him, and for a heartbeat, it felt like she might whisper something else. But instead, she pressed a long, slow kiss against his cheek. It wasn't rushed; her lips lingered just beyond what was necessary, and when she pulled away, a perfect imprint of her purple lipstick was left behind.
She slid off his lap, standing tall again, smoothing her hands down her sides. The music faded out, the soft pulse slipping into silence as the lights dimmed further. She turned without looking back, her posture relaxed yet powerful, walking out of the room with the same steady confidence she entered with.
Kai watched her leave, suddenly aware he had forgotten all about breathing.
His gaze stayed fixed on the curve of her back until she turned the corner, the sound of her heels fading like the last notes of a song. He remained motionless until Scott's laughter broke the silence.
"Well, that was something," Scott said, clapping his hands together. "I give her a solid ten."
Dale laughed, taking a quick sip from his glass. He glanced at Kai with a smirk. "What did she whisper to you?"
Kai's eyes finally left the door. He turned to Dale slowly, his voice low and even.
"Mind your damn business."
Scott raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment. "Relax. No need to bite his head off. Though… that looked like something you didn't hate."
Kai didn't respond.
Scott leaned in, a big grin on his face. "So… are you going to fuck her or what?"
Kai stared into his glass, swirling the dark liquid. He didn't answer; he didn't roll his eyes or throw out a snarky retort like he normally would. He just sat there, quiet and still.
But the answer lived in the warmth still lingering on his cheek, in the memory of her scent, in the way his mind replayed her movements before he could stop it.
He didn't say it out loud.
But yes.
He wanted her.