I start to stalk off the stage when Kyrin intercepts me, his hand coming to the back of my neck.
He looks down, a sneer on his mouth. “You don’t move, Hellhound. Stay here.”
Spinning me around, I watch as Killian does the same thing to the girl as he did me. Bet he isn’t trying to tamper with her brain though, not how he did mine. I wonder what he does do to the volunteers—what he gives them. How he plays it. I can feel Ky’s hard body behind me, his arm wrapped around my belly to keep me anchored.
“King” from Niykee Heaton starts playing and my eyes close, the beat pulling at my natural instinct to dance.
“Shit,” I whisper as I feel my mind drifting toward my urges. I need to fucking dance.
Kyrin’s mouth curves against the back of my neck. “Let go.”
I exhale a slow, shaky breath, and tilt my head around, my hand coming to his. Kyrin freezes as I turn in his grip. I’m well aware that this is a performance for the crowd, but I bet Delila is absolutely spewing right now, wondering what the hell is going on. Why Killian and I’s “push and pull” is now being performed during her show.
This is a pull for power between Killian and me. He took over my acts, so I’ll take over his. Realistically, I didn’t have to dance, but God did I want to. So I’ll do what I do, and dance.
I swing my head, my hair whipping around in a circle. I’m certain I saw Kill falter as he was putting a white bandana over the girl’s face.
He didn’t use his bandana.
Interesting.
Hooking my hand into Kyrin’s, I pull him into my body, rolling with the beat. A few people catcall in the audience, only intensifying my need to take over Killian’s act the way he did mine. I lean forward, touching my toes while grinding my ass into Kyrin’s crotch. Kyrin is pretty vacant with me. He doesn’t talk to me unless he has to and stays far away from displaying who he is as a person. These boys may be vicious and cruel, and heartless with no emotion, but there’s one thing absolute that I know. I can tap at the walls they keep up while performing because above everything, they’re entertainers. This is who they are. So as long as we’re on the stage, I can torment the tormenters.
Kyrin’s hands land on my hips, his fingers trailing over my bare belly. I spin back around and hook my arm around the back of his neck. When the chorus kicks in again, I jump up and wrap my legs around his waist, grinding, rolling, and rubbing myself over his body. Using it as my own personal stripper pole. When the song thuds out to a slow, menacing beat, I slowly curve backward until I’m upside down, my hands on the floor and my legs now locked around Ky’s waist.
The music throbs like a trance.
Killian’s cold eyes bore into mine as the lighting flicks on and off in the same red that I saw in my head not long ago. I continue to ride Kyrin. Dry humping to the beat.
Kyrin squeezes my thighs, a warning, I think. Warnings don’t scare me, and Killian is about to learn that I’m a loaded weapon and have no problem at all utilizing it. My body alone could match what his mind tricks could do. I flick my leg up and slide into standing splits, my inner leg pressing against Kyrin’s face. The music stops and I eloquently kick my other leg down to the floor and stand.
This time the screams from the crowd are drowned out by my heart rate drumming loudly in my ears. People stand, whistle, cheer.
Only Killian is mad.
I keep my cocky grin pointed right at him as I slowly bend to a bow.
Quickly spinning around to run back to my cubicle, I’m lifted off the ground when an arm latches around my belly and pulls me into a hard chest.
“Nah, uh! You’re not going anywhere!”
I kick to get him off me, only it doesn’t help. He’s too strong, way too strong.
“I’m not involved,” Ky mutters, going back to the cubicle.
Keaton follows closely behind him. “If you want to pop your Kiznitch cherry, Sass, I’m down!” He disappears behind Kyrin and it’s only Killian and me. There’s an intermission now, so we get a thirty minute break. Which I had planned to stretch and redo my makeup for my final act. I’m tired, drained, and in desperate need of food.
“Let me go, Killian!”
He doesn’t. He continues to walk us outside, toward the back where the bikes are parked. King seems to be having an argument with Perse beside his. When they see us exit, Perse storms off and disappears back inside.