"No fucking way."

Hermione still had her mouth open. She couldn't believe what he laid out in front of her. This had to be a joke, one universal joke he was playing on her just to get a ridiculous reaction. Because there's no way Malfoy expected her to wear something like that out in public. There was barely a part of her that would wear that in the comfort of her own home. She folded her arms over her body and continued to gawk at the clothing, or lack thereof.

"You can't honestly expect me to wear that Malfoy!" She cried, looking up at his face seeing a very relaxed face.

"I told you there's a dress code." He shrugged, biting that pretty rosy colored lip of his. Hermione wanted to take the clothes and throw them in his face.

"What kind of club are you running? A strip club? Are you a pimp on the side?" She fired the questions at him, still in disbelief that this is what she agreed to do. Draco laughed heartily at the outburst.

"It's lingerie specific. All women, including servers, wear lingerie. All men, including servers, have to wear suits." He explained and Hermione felt mortified at the thought of walking into a club he owned surrounded by other women all wearing lingerie. It was humiliating and demeaning. Why should men wear suits and women wear lingerie?

"Before you go into a tirade at how disrespectful it is to women about the dress code, I should tell you that there seems to be a preference for that sort of…dress kink here in Paris. People love it." He explained.

The lingerie Draco had chosen was a baby pink strapless corset, decorated in lace with what appeared to be roses. The knickers, thankfully not a thong, were sheer lace, matching the roses on the corset. And of course, there were garters and delicate stockings. Her eyebrows were pushed together on her forehead and she felt her cheek spasm in a grimace. She shook her head.

"Malfoy. No—just no." She turned around and headed back into the bathroom, looking to collect the clothes she came in.

"Granger—"

"I can't be dressed up like that around men! In public! I'd look like a-a…" She was freaking out but thankfully held back, not wanting to offend Malfoy and the way he ran his business. "I'm sorry," she sighed, "I can't do that."

Draco had followed her frantic movements, watching her shake her head and throw her hands around in a most animated way while she collected her clothes. When she turned to make an exit from the bathroom, he stopped in the doorway, keeping her trapped and forcing her to look at him.

"Granger, you promised," He began, his tone entirely serious.

"Yes, but I—"

"But nothing. You said you trusted me, so do it. I'm not taking you to a back alley speakeasy, this is my establishment. I think you'd find it classy and exhilarating, like everyone else who attends the club."

Hermione found it hard to listen to his voice when his body towering over hers in the bloody suit that made blood rush to her ears. His voice sounded soothing when he spoke in such a gentle way, but she still wasn't sure about going.

"I believe you but I just can't do it." Her head tilted down and she shut her eyes. "That's…That's not me and I…I can't." She was too embarrassed to admit that being in the company of other barely dressed witches made her insecurities fill to the brim. The unfamiliarity of wearing lingerie, feeling in touch with a woman's natural sexiness and allure was too intimidating. She could handle a dress, but not something as bold as what Draco was suggesting. Hermione knew she'd be surrounded by women who were free spirited and confident, comfortable in showing off their bodies. She couldn't do that, she wasn't that, but most importantly, she didn't believe she was any of that.

"Hermione," Draco began, his voice low and testing. The way his lips sounded so soft around the letters of her name made her worried eyes meet his. It sounded like a song, a comforting, reassuring lullaby.

"You keep saying you don't do this, or you can't do that, but you keep proving yourself wrong. I don't think this time would be any different." He took a step forward, she instinctively took one backwards. He made no move to touch her, keeping a small invisible border between them as he took another step.

"You're allowed to be something that's not normally you, that's not normally expected of you." He told her and she thought it strangely sounded like he was giving her permission to act on her other curiosities.

"You can get drunk and dance obscenely with a stranger if that makes you feel good." His forward movements caused them to pause in front of the sinks. She could see their reflection in the corner of her eye, his skyscraper body hovering over hers.

She felt her legs go weak when he smirked at her and let his eyes trail over her body still concealed in the bathroom robe. His gaze made her feel like she was completely naked and vulnerable to him, it was powerful.

"You can go out in lingerie and love the way you feel." He stepped behind her, an invisible wall still between them but his body was close enough she could feel the heat of his breath hit the top of her head. Her cheek met the top of her shoulder, eyes focused on the pale hands that remained at his sides.

"You're allowed to like feeling sexy, and like that strangers in a random club in Paris find you sexy." His voice made her shiver. Her eyelids shut for only a second to revel in the smooth sound of his voice. She felt cool fingertips angle her jaw straight forward, her eyes opened at the sensitive touch and focused on his dark eyes in the mirror. He smirked again, and gods, he could've asked her to do anything in that moment and she probably would've agreed.

His right arm lifted, she watched the tips of his fingers skim over her hand and up the length of her arm.

"You're allowed to like the touch of a stranger, even if you think you shouldn't."

She gasped when his fingertips brushed over her neck. Her heart was fluttering in her chest so violently she was positive he could see the movement through her robe. The pads of his fingers moved downwards over her shoulder blades and to her sides. The material of the robe was too thick, it made her irritated that she couldn't feel more of his touch, more of him.

"Wouldn't you like that?" His slender hand came to the front of the robe, lightly pulling one side back to reveal her bare thigh to his touch. The tips of his fingers left an icy path all over her soft skin, branding her with his featherlike precision, she shuddered. "Wouldn't you like to stop worrying and just…indulge in the things you want?"

His question sounded so reasonable, his deep angelic voice coaxing her to agree quickly. His fingertips barely brushed over her thigh, trailing wavy, obscure lines over the front and over to her upper thigh, then to the side. Her mouth parted when his eyes flickered up to hers in an instant, his movements stopping.

"Would you like that Hermione?" He asked again.

"Yes." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard her and smiled. His fingers restarted their delicate motions and she almost thanked him out loud for it.

"So how about you get dressed, we check out my club and let's say, after thirty minutes, if you don't like it we'll leave. Sound okay?"

Hermione nodded and swallowed. His voice was too alluring to say no and his offer was something that she could work with, it was only thirty minutes. Draco's eyes met hers, she could see his blown pupils, the heated stare sent flames to her center. He left her in the bathroom, flushed and somersaults rolling through her stomach.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione bravely returned to the bedroom to face the baby pink doom that awaited her. She picked up the corset and held it in front of her face. It was rather pretty. Tilting her head back, she half sighed and half groaned. Draco fucking Malfoy and his hypnotic voice.

After a few minutes of struggling with the buttons on the corset and trying not to scream when she couldn't get the small buckled strap on the white heels, she was finally dressed. The heels clacked against the marble floor of the bathroom, her head almost exploding when she saw herself.

The corset made her look curvy, pulled her waist in and brought her breasts up. Turning around to see the back, she realized the panties were a lot more cheeky than she originally anticipated, but she thought it made her look…good. Hermione blushed when she remembered that Draco chose this outfit for her, because he had full intentions of seeing her in this. The thought was slightly unsettling but it lit her pulse on fire.

Taking one last breath, Hermione grabbed the coat Malfoy had left her and tugged it on. She swung the doors open and stepped out into the main room, a waiting Malfoy standing on the balcony with a cigarette between his lips. He heard the door and stood up, taking one last pull before throwing the butt to the ground.

He fit his hands in his pockets and smirked while walking to her. His eyes falling over the heels and her lacy calves. She bit the inside of her cheek, finding the dirt under her nails to be much more fascinating than his features.

"Ready?" He asked, stopping only a foot away from her.

"Thirty minutes only." She warned and he quirked a knowing brow.

"Thirty minutes and we see how you feel." He corrected and she rolled her eyes.

"It'll most likely be thirty minutes. Don't get your hopes up." Hermione played with the smooth tips of her hair, finding the silkiness to be a calming sensation.

"I've already got my hopes up, you want to know why Granger?" Malfoy was goading her, she knew it, but the way his lips curled to form the tiniest of dimples in his cheek forced her to respond.

"Why?" She asked him, head tilting upwards to meet his playful eyes.

"Because I've learned you're full of surprises."

She had half a mind to smack his arm, but instead, she took his hand when he offered it to her. As soon as they touched, he disapparated them from his villa and onto a dark block. It was quiet, only two other people on the street plus one man standing in front of a red wooden door. The sign above shined in white, twinkling lights and it read in French but Hermione assumed what it said.

Draco walked them over to the man who shook Draco's hand with a very polite smile. He was burly, the same height as Draco, but much more muscular. Security for the club seemed extensive since it was so calm for the night.

"Bonsoir Monsieur. Le club est à pleine capacité. Amusez-vous bien." The security man opened the door, revealing a dark, empty hallway. She felt Draco's hand on her back to encourage her forward, the bodyguard offered his hand to help her up the stone stairs.

Once she placed both feet on the ground, the hallway lit up in lights, one after the other like a domino effect. The walls and ceilings were mirrors, and the length of the hallway resembled a runway. The door shut behind them, echoing into the emptiness. Draco still had his hand on her back, the comforting touch was the only thing that kept her breathing at a normal place.

"Shall we?" Draco said, and she dazedly allowed him to push her body forward, the sound of her heels filling the empty runway.

At the end of the hallway was just another mirror that connected to the walls and ceiling. They came face to face with their appearance. Hermione could make out the rosiness of her cheeks and saw Draco's heavy stare capture hers.

"Comment faire un nœud avec une tige de cerise?" Draco spoke, the way his tongue rolled over the words made Hermione bite her lips. She tried to tell herself to remember what he just said and look it up later. Whatever the words, they sounded divine coming from his lips.

Suddenly, the mirror became transparent, looking like a foggy cloud, and she could make out moving figures behind the apparition. Draco was the first to step through the threshold, his body almost shielding her from the scene in front of her as he pulled her through. As soon as the fog cleared, she gasped.

The room was dimly lit, creating a hazy glow that made the atmosphere timeless. The floor was sunken in, stairs leading down to the main floor in a perfect square. The main floor faced a stage, the back wall a massive mirror. There were tables and chaise lounge chairs spaced out evenly, only one open section left and Hermione could guess who those were for.

The area around the stairs branched off to create a thick looking ledge with four sections in each corner and hallways in between all of them. Hermione could see thick fabric winding down from the ceiling, women twirling and twisting into the fabric as the men sat around the smaller stages and watched in awe. They were acrobats, performing for the men. Each stage had at least two girls performing, one of the larger of the stages had three people, one of the performers being a man.

Her mouth was permanently hung open, there was too much in front of her to take in at once. What seemed to be the most surprising factor is that there was a slightly even balance between men and women who attended the club. The men were in suits as Draco said, and the women were dressed in lingerie, only the workers wore black or white it seemed. She noted that every woman was wearing a feather boa that was either red, black or white. Every man had a boutonnière that was again either red, black or white.

Hermione was amazed and slightly intimidated. This seemed like a burlesque, higher end…show club. Every worker looked stunning and had their own glow of attractiveness around them. The people that attended all seemed confident, not caring they were exposing their bodies. In fact, everyone seemed to be embracing it.

Before she could ask any questions or voice her hesitations Draco was at a small booth, appearing to be a coat check. Her stomach fell into the floor when she realized she would soon have to remove her coat, exposing her scantily clad body to the attendees in the club, and, to Draco.

"Deux pour blanc." He asked the woman, and she disappeared from view. Hermione took a step closer to his side.

"What did you ask her?"

Draco looked at Hermione, biting his lip to conceal his smirk. He leaned up against the counter, stuffing one hand into his pant pocket. Even leaning he was still a half foot taller than him, plus she was in heels. His height was astounding and somewhat infuriating. She hated how she had to look up at him, wishing she was closer to have a better look into the flecks of blue in his eyes.

"I asked for our colors."

"Colors? What does that mean?"

She watched as Draco removed his silver quellazaire from his back pocket, taking a cigarette and bringing it between his full lips. It loosely hung as he lit it, the smoke making her choke back a cough.

"At 'La Fosse aux Cerises' there are colors assigned to each attendee based on what they're looking for from the club." He explained and came to stand directly by her side, bending slightly so she could follow his raised pointed finger and hear his low voice. "The black flowers and boas are for people who are single. Workers can touch them, interact with them and other people know they can approach them"

Hermione nodded, feeling more relaxed and finding Draco more…admirable, for instilling a system to consider people's comfort levels. He removed the cigarette from his lips and pointed to a crowd who were primarily wearing red boas and flowers, swaying to the movements of the acrobat on their current stage.

"Red is multiples." Hermione shivered, his breath tickled her ear and the words seemed to tighten the muscles in her lower region. "It's for swingers or single people looking for multiple partners, that sort of thing."

Her lips felt dry as her eyes scanned the entirety of the club. Over half the patrons were wearing red and she wondered why so many people were interested in a ménage à trois, or more. "Do—do people prefer that?"

Eyes were stuck on the friendly crowd, watching men and women share longing touches, kiss each other openly and sprawl out over each other all while focusing on the entertainment in front of them. The coat checker came back, handing Draco a white boa and a white carnation.

"Seems most do here." He explained while pinning the flower close to the top of his tie, matching the other men in the room. Her eyes moved to the extended hallways, watching as multiple people walked off with a worker.

"And what are those? Where do the hallways lead?" She asked.

Draco looked over his shoulder to catch her line of view, finally situating the flower in its proper place, and turned back to Hermione to give her a wicked smile. "Private rooms for private shows."

Her eyes flickered back to his, the gray in his eyes looked too teasing to be serious. "No, honestly."

Draco grabbed the white boa in his hand and took a step towards her, the features of her face instantly formed into worry and small bits of confusion. His eyes darkened, totally focused on the way her lips parted when he was only inches away from her.

"Honestly." He told her, wrapping the boa around her shoulders and letting his hands fall down the feathers, staying close to her lower stomach. They held each other's eye contact, blood rushing to Hermione's ears as Draco licked his teeth, eyes flashing down her body.

"Time for this to go." He tugged on the coat and Hermione looked down and frowned. Stretching out on to her tippy toes in the heels, she looked past his shoulders and back into the crowd, viewing the woman who had no problem looking outrageously attractive. Her heart was wildly beating in her chest, insecurity seeping through her bones and weighing her down.

Cool hands found her heating cheeks, her body sat back down to her normal height and her wary hazelnut eyes found the smokiness of his.

"Hey, don't worry about the other women or the men. I'll lead us to the table, you'll be right by my side and no one will bother us. I promise." His breath smelled harshly of menthol and she wanted to ask if there were any cherries for him to snack on. The sweet scent had become something she expected of him and now, she directly attributed cherries to him.

Hermione took a deep breath and let it blow past her lips, vibrating through her mouth. His hands felt incredibly soft, the tips of his large palm resting comfortably on the side of her neck. She relaxed in his hold and absolutely hated that she was going to do this.

"You have to turn around." She told him and his head jerked back, a silly expression coming over his features. One blonde brow shot up on his forehead.

"You can't be serious. I'm going to see you no matter what—"

"I know, I know, but just…turn around while I…undress. It'll make me feel better." Her cheeks flushed again and she took a step backwards out his hold. She didn't remember when he decided they had crossed a point where he could openly touch her in comforting ways. It was appreciated but felt out of place, for him at least.

Draco rolled his eyes but complied with her orders, taking a solid drag before disposing of it in a nearby ashtray. Hermione kept her eyes on him, making sure he wouldn't glance back as she removed her coat and handed it to the worker behind the booth. The feather boa was readjusted to hang loosely over her back and hung through her elbows. The air hit her exposed body, a shiver crawled up her back and winded its way down to her toes. She could do this, she repeatedly told herself, it was only thirty minutes and she was more than capable of surviving thirty minutes with Draco Malfoy in a lingerie club.

Walking to Draco's side, she slid her arm under his, wrapping her hand around his forearm. With the most confidence she could muster, she tilted her head forward and refused to meet his glance. She could feel his eyes boring into her body, but she didn't give the satisfaction to let him see her flushed and unsure. She cleared her throat once and shook her head, her wavy hair tickling the skin just above the strapless corset.

"Lead the way." She said, her eyes focused on the center stage below them.

Draco was staring, mentally screaming at her to look at him so he could see her face and take her entire beauty in. Her body curved in all the areas he loved, giving him so much to look at but simply not enough to keep him happy. It took every ounce of self restraint to not run his hands down her backside and slap it so hard the entire club could hear it. The garters made his mouth water and he found himself jealous of the delicate lace that wrapped around her thighs. The lace of her knickers hid the best parts but teased him almost painfully. He told himself to buy a gift basket to send to the woman who helped him pick out the outfit in the lingerie boutique.

She looked divine, and she was holding on to his arm.

He could feel his neck break out into a heat, so he looked forward and led them down the stairs as she requested. They approached another security man that opened the velvet rope that blocked off the main center of the club. Draco nodded at the man, and they were soon amongst a large bustling crowd of men and women drinking and smoking, chattering in French and talking it up with the workers of the club.

"We're up here, best seat in the house." Draco muttered into her ear, politely nodding and smirking at his workers who waved and said hello. Hermione silently nodded and tried to focus on her legs moving. Draco's arm was definitely keeping her up right in the moment, and she was sure if she looked anywhere but straight ahead, she would have ran away. Her priority was finding their seat and sitting down, so she didn't have to look at anyone.

A black velvet lounge chair that could possibly sit three people was the only open section on the floor. They were situated towards the middle, off center to the right but had a clear view of the stage and mirrors. Hermione's eyes saw her dimmed reflection and for a second, had forgotten how different she looked in the lingerie. Her eyes glinted in appreciation and she let herself be reminded of Draco's soothing words from earlier. You're allowed to like feeling sexy.

Draco suddenly reached to grab her hand and helped her sit down on the soft chair. Their small end table already had a carafe and glasses waiting for them, and of course, a bowl of cherries. Hermione could have rolled her eyes in that moment but she was happy when she saw Draco immediately pop one into his mouth.

She sat upright and rigid, ankles crossed and body leaning into the middle of the chair, hands were so tightly clasped together that she began to get that prickly numb feeling in some of her fingers. Draco noticed and leaned over to her while her head was tilted down.

"If you don't relax, you won't enjoy the show." He whispered making her hop in her seat. Draco felt slightly bad for essentially forcing her into coming tonight, but he didn't know she would be this anxious. Her eyes were wide and the deep lines in her forehead were already beginning to hurt from the strain.

Hermione took a deep breath, begging herself to calm down and live in the moment, but she felt uncomfortable and was thinking of ways to politely ask him if they could leave.

"Do you want anything? Water, a drink, something to smoke?" He offered and she shook her head, giving him an awkward half laugh.

"No. I'm sorry, I'm not the best company for something like this." She nervously gestured around them and turned her attention back to her toes. She could feel Draco hesitantly move closer to her on the couch, his arm moving to hang over the ledge behind her head. His cologne floated to her nose at the proximity and she found some some peace in the dark, oaky scent.

"You're great company. Stop insulting yourself." He told her and she shut her eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. Draco eyed the nervous witch, not understanding how she could be so oblivious to the way she outshined every woman in this place. Deciding on a different route, Draco tried to think of something interesting enough that would capture her interest and help distract her racing mind.

"Did you know this place was owned by King Louis the sixth? Just before the sixteenth century."

Hermione looked at him for the first time since removing her coat, surprised at the small fun fact he had provided. "No. What for?"

Draco smiled and clicked his tongue. "Seems I know a muggle history fact over the most intelligent muggle born witch. How exciting." He teased making Hermione roll her eyes and bite the inside of her cheek.

"That's only because you own this place, the information available to you puts me at a disadvantage." She responded, feeling her shoulders loosen.

"Doesn't matter. I still have this bit of knowledge over you. But yes, it was owned by him before he became King and it was said he used it as a gambling and brothel place. Quite scandalous." Draco mused and Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"More scandalous than all this?" She gestured again to their surroundings.

"Of course. La Fosse aux Cerises is good, solid, clean fun." Draco was doing his best to keep his eyes firmly planted on Hermione's face. This was the most gentlemanly and polite thing he could do, he felt like a fucking saint.

"Mhm. You never told me what the white meant, by the way." She suddenly said, eyes looking down at the white carnation attached to his tie.

The hand hanging over the edge of the couch moved to her exposed back. Hermione instantly straightened when she felt the icy pads of his fingers slide over her skin. She was completely immobile while he touched her. His hands found the soft feathers of her boa, petting them and twirling them in-between in his fingers.

"White is for people who are taken or couples who like to come and watch, or be watched." His voice noticeably dropped an octave as he watched her react to his words. Her tongue barely dipped out over her lips, but his eyes flashed to it the second it happened, like it was magnetizing.

"Be watched?" She asked, not understanding the totality of the words. Draco leaned his head down, the new smell of cherries mixing with menthol made her inhale deeply.

"Take a look at the couple to the left of us, three tables down." He motioned with his head behind her and Hermione shifted her body to find the couple in white. A man and a woman who appeared to be in their early forties sat in lounge chair much similar to theirs. The woman was straddling the man, softly running her hands through his hair, smiling down at him with a dazed expression. The man was running his hands over the woman, sliding to her back and finally down to her backside where he palmed harshly moving her into his front.

Hermione couldn't look away even though she knew it was wrong, even though she knew these people shouldn't be doing this in such a public setting where over a hundred people were mindlessly sitting around them. They had some onlookers, who looked increasingly interested in the couple's movements and then there were others who paid them no mind, too wrapped up in their own party at the table.

"Some people like the thrill of being in public and doing things that are typically done in the dark. There's exhilaration in having people watch you, knowing that people could get off to you to your dirty and naughty actions." His words were hot in her ear, and as she continued to watch the woman grind up against the man, she seemed to understand what he meant.

"They show off to other people. Give them a show and say 'you can look, but you can't touch.'"

Hermione let out a ragged exhale and finally tore her eyes away from the couple, moving her body to face back toward Draco. He somehow moved closer to her, their bodies only a hands distance away, their heat radiating off each other. Draco licked his lips and decided to see if he could provoke a bigger reaction out of her again.

"Granger, I have to say I'm battling with myself right now." He admitted, eyes falling to the poutines of her pink mouth and the dip of her cupid's bow. Hermione felt herself sway forward, maybe a centimeter not more, but Draco noticed and the corner of his mouth tipped up.

"What do you mean?" She whispered, almost stuttering out her question. It felt warm in the building and she wanted to ask if she could quickly cast a cooling charm.

"I mean that a part of me would love to be the perfect gentleman tonight. I would hold your hand if you let me while we watch the show, enjoy the music and each other's lively company. I'd bring you back to the villa and plant a very appropriate kiss to your hand before leaving you alone to sleep. But…that's only a small, small part of me." He explained, watching her eyes dart back and forth over his face, hanging on every word he spoke. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek as she looked up to him.

"And what does the other part of you want?" She didn't recognize her voice. It was roped into a sultry tone that had never come out of her before. Draco's hand resumed their path on her back and he held a thoughtful expression on his face while he made her skin rise in excitement. Hermione's eyes were drawn to the movement of his tongue, gliding over the top of his lip.

"The other part of me, would like t—"

He didn't finish, the loud bang of trumpets playing made her jump out of her seat and caused her head to whip to the stage. There were flashes of lights as women and men danced on stage while the lively music played. The attendees cheered and hollered for the performers. A very tall woman dressed in a black lingerie corset with something that resembled a tutu wrapped around her waist stepped onto the stage, the spotlight zoned in on her and she began to sing in French.

Hermione was astounded by how beautiful the woman was, she had almost perfect features and long strawberry blonde hair that warped into beautiful curls down her back. The crowd cheered the hardest for her and Hermione sat and listened as the dancers began to move in a choreographed fashion, all in a very provocative way.

The first song ended, everyone applauded. The next tune rang out that seemed more upbeat and jazzy. Hermione was faintly aware that Draco hadn't moved away after their little conversation. She could feel his arm still hovering right beside her back, his side almost touching hers. She was semi-thankful the performance interrupted him, she wasn't sure what she or he would have done if he finished his seemingly raunchy sentence.

So she sat in silence, different acts sang and danced as the very seductive redhead singer wrapped herself into the hanging fabric and gave an aerial performance too. After some time, the redhead began to talk to the crowd, eliciting more hoots and jeers, Hermione looked around and back to Draco who began lighting a cigarette.

"What did she say?" She questioned, as the sultry music played out and slowly the women came back onto the stage, all dressed in the most revealing pieces of lingerie she's ever seen.

"It's the final act and it's…inclusive." He explained, blowing the air away from her while watching her furrow her brow at the stage. He had spent a majority of the show watching her in the mirror and her small reactions. It was far more fascinating than seeing his employees dance.

Hermione paid attention to the dancers who slowly walked off the stage and onto the main floor to the beat of the music. She looked up to see almost every woman blow Draco a kiss who nodded at each of them without so much of a smirk. All the dancers went to tables with either black or red colors, dancing around them, touching down their body until they pulled them out of the chair and made them follow them back on to the stage.

The redhead even stepped off stage, still singing, and slowly eyed their table. Hermione straightened her back, her breath catching her throat as she eyed the movement of her legs, the sway of her hips. She felt the spotlight stick on the redhead and it soon fell over their chair, the woman had walked up to Draco, leaned forward, making a show to stick out her bum and arch her back as she looked at the white flower on his tie. Even up close she was by far one of the prettiest women she had ever seen, maybe she was part Veela.

Still singing, the redhead gave Draco an almost disappointed pout but soon walked away, not even looking in her direction. Hermione felt something strange stir inside of her, it nestled uncomfortably in her stomach as she did her best to keep her head impossibly still and straight.

This was Draco's club after all, it would be senseless to assume he's never been involved with the beautiful women hired. It still made her uncomfortable, the woman had come up to him so assured of herself, like she had done it hundreds of times before and actually looked upset when she saw the white flower. Hermione felt insecure all over again.

Once the redhead had picked someone from the crowd, the dancers all lined up behind their chosen person in the chairs. Hermione was surprised that the dancers had picked an even number of men and women to participate in the last number. The lights changed to a demon like red, and the music slowed, only a bass was strumming out. They moved along with the lyrics and music, sensually touching their participants and swinging their bodies around the chair. They all climbed into their laps, moving and gyrating their bodies to give an exaggerated performance of a lap dance.

The patrons were smiling widely, eyes darkened while they heavily paid attention to the movements. The dancers swung their hips and grabbed the people's hands, letting them trail over their body. The crowd was cheering, and Hermione thought the spectacle to be incredibly erotic.

She realized if Draco was wearing a different color boutonniere, he'd be sitting on stage in one of those chairs, while the redhead swayed her hips against his. The thought was maddening and made her cheeks sting.

The final notes rang out and each of the dancers planted a large kiss on their person's lips, light exploded on the stage and small pyrotechnics went off overhead. Everyone stood and applauded, the performers cheered for their crowd members, they bowed smiles wide and then the redhead said something final to the crowd.

Hermione stood with the crowd, appreciating the craft and talent of the women and men who performed but still feeling a weird pang in her stomach when her eyes passed over the redhead. She was eyeing Draco, and a part of her was hoping she wouldn't come over here.

"What did you think?" Draco asked her once they took their seats again.

Hermione unconsciously crossed her arms over her stomach, the action made Draco's eyes flicker down and flit back up to her eyes. Something that resembled disappointment flashed over his grey eyes before settling on her face.

"It was very nice. They're all extremely talented." Hermione said truthfully, noticing the dancers heading into the crowd most likely to interact with the people and take a break at the bar.

Before Draco could respond, the redhead from the performance walked over to them, greeting Draco with a seductive smile. He stood to greet her, and Hermione sat as the two placed kisses on each other's cheeks and engaged in a quiet conversation. She could see the redhead point to the flower with a frown and Draco tried to inconspicuously nod over to Hermione. She felt the redhead stare at her while she spoke with Draco. She twitched in her seat, trying to make herself appear unintimidated.

The redhead stepped away from Draco, moving to Hermione, she sent a very warm and sweet smile to her. "Did you enjoy the performance?"

Hermione looked up, her voice was just as beautiful when she talked compared to her singing. Her accent was extremely thick, somehow adding to the overall appeal of her. She bit her lip and nodded politely.

"It was lovely. You were fantastic." She bit back her jealousy and gave the woman a compliment, Draco watched the two interact with a breath held in his chest.

"Thank you, I hope you stay for the next show." The woman told her and walked away, giving both her and Draco a very meaningful expression.

Hermione felt awkward, not sure how to proceed with conversation with Draco and finding some solace in knowing more than thirty minutes had passed. She had successfully fulfilled her end of the deal, meaning she was free to go and hide under the sheets.

"So, would you like to stay?" Draco asked.

"This has been very…eye opening and given me a lot of insight into…you as a…erm, a businessman. but I think I'm good for the night." Hermione said, feeling oddly defeated.

"Really Granger? What's wrong now?" Draco asked in an unbelievable tone.

"I—I just feel weird. Like I'm intruding on your…fun. I—you stay, I should go." She stumbled over her words and it made Draco let out a small disbelieving chuckle.

"I am having fun. You have no idea how entertaining you are."

"You don't ha—"

"I'm being serious, Hermione." Draco said, his head leveling with hers so she can't escape his penetrating eye contact. "I'm enjoying myself because you're here. You are again the sexiest witch in my club and I can hardly take my eyes off you. I've been watching you in the mirror the whole time, watching every moment your eyes widen and your skin blushes when you witness something provocative. Your body is hypnotizing, and it seems my attention isn't the only one you've captured."

She was still, so much so she appeared to be petrified. His words were shocking and she wondered if she were ever going to stop feeling caught off guard by his astounding bluntness. Her mind was reeling over his confession, until she understood the last part.

"What—what do you mean?" She questioned, making Draco send her a cocky little smirk. He leaned in closer, bringing a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear with gentle care. His lips were right at her ear, cold against her burning skin.

"Yvonne, the main performer who I spoke with, is curious about you."

"Curious?" She asked, a shiver running through her body.

"She thinks you're stunning and would love for you to be the one she brings on stage during the final number. The only reason she didn't last performance was because you're in white. She came over to me and asked if you'd change your mind for her." He explained and Hermione felt her eyes widen at the revelation, she pulled back and gave Draco a staggering look.

"Me?" She gasped.

"Yes you." He confirmed

"I—I thought she wanted you."

"Yvonne prefers women. The only time I've ever bought women here is for her to pursue." He continued and Hermione felt as if he shot a stupefy at her chest.

"So, would you like to stay? They go on in an hour, it'll be a different performance but the end will be the same. Yvonne would love for you to be the one to join her on stage."

Hermione swallowed and suddenly time had floated by in mere seconds. She agreed to stay, something in knowing the most beautiful woman had her eyes on her, not Draco or even another woman, her, it was one of the most flattering feelings Hermione had ever felt.

The show began, more centered around aerial performances and pyrotechnics. It was incredible and Hermione noted that there were no singing performances done by Yvonne, until the last act. Draco had his arm strung over the couch once more, his body slouched into the lounge chair, leaning into Hermione, one ankle crossed on his knee as she sat straight up, attentive to every movement of Yvonne.

When the dancers strolled onto the floor, Hermione held her breath as Yvonne walked to them. She looked at Draco for approval who nodded once then centered her gaze on Hermione with a seductive expression. She reached for Hermione's hand and pulled her up and she followed her in a daze, her legs felt like air.

She was led on stage and took a seat in the wooden chairs, just as the other attendees. Yvonne sang and the dancers began to move to her voice. Hermione felt her breath speed up when a soft hand trailed along her collarbone. She tried not to squirm in the spotlight, but her eyes could still make Draco's form in the darkness.

He sat in the same position, looking casual as ever, his eyes not moving anywhere else. Yvonne trailed her hand down Hermione's front and pulled it away before it reached her center, making her fingers curl tightly around her seat. She stepped forward, smiling at Hermione then sinking down into a squat, her arse towards the crowd and her hand sliding up her ankle, then to her calf and up her thigh.

Hermione couldn't breathe. Her eyes flickered down to Yvonne's then back up to Draco's. Both his feet were on the ground, he leaned forward in his seat, lighting a cigarette, dark eyes still watching her. Yvonne continued singing but Hermione could barely hear the words. A woman had never touched her so erotically, and now it was happening in public. She could feel her center flutter and she almost squeezed her legs tightly together.

Draco watched with heavy eyes, paying attention to the way Hermione's breasts pushed against the corset when she began to breathe harder, loving the way her eyes sparkled in wonder under the light and imagined it was him touching her the way Yvonne was. This, right now, was his favorite show his club had ever put on, he had to shift his trousers.

Yvonne straddled Hermione, taking her hands and running them down her body, over her breasts and moved to cover her arse. She felt speechless and entirely stunned. Her brown eyes clung to the deep blue of Yvonne's, too afraid to look anywhere else. Her body was on fire and she was certain she'd melt into a puddle.

She was pulled to her feet, and the dancers switched places with their people. Hermione now stood facing the crowd, eyes immediately found Draco's. As Yvonne hands shamelessly groped her legs, stomach and breasts, she could make out the faint muscle of Draco's jaw moving. Yvonne stood, swinging her body around Hermione's and pressing up against sensitive skin.

As the final notes rang out, Hermione knew what was coming. Her chest was thumping as loudly as the base and she felt her limbs go numb. Draco was intently watching, eyes dark, he nearly looked like a feral animal. Yvonne brought a hand up to Hermione's shoulder, moving it to her neck as she finished the song. Time slowed, blood rushed to her face as Yvonne brought her lips down onto Hermione's.

She immediately gasped, the sensation and knowledge that a woman was kissing her gave her a thrilling yet taboo sensation fly throughout her body. Her lips were softer than Draco's, her movement's more precise and she briefly slipped her tongue into Hermione's mouth. Hermione sighed and bravely flicked her own tongue against hers before Yvonne pulled away completely and smiled at Hermione with a hungry expression.

Hermione was led back to her table after the applause where Draco stood waiting. Yvonne said something in French, smiling wildly at Draco, her hand clasped around Hermione's. She stood silent as they exchanged words, still in a haze after the performance she was given. She snapped out of it once she felt Draco's cool palm replace Yvonne's. She looked up at him, his eyes were blown black and face was emotionless.

Yvonne frowned at something Draco said but stepped forward to kiss him on the cheek goodbye and turned to place a surprising yet chaste kiss on Hermione's lips.

"Visit me again beautiful." Yvonne whispered into her ear, making Hermione flush impossibly hard.

Draco pulled them away, tightly squeezing Hermione's hand. She wondered why he suddenly was acting short with Yvonne, their departure seemed so abrupt. He walked them up stairs, passed the coat check and out the exit. Hermione weakly protested for her jacket, not understanding why Draco looked angry in that moment.

He apparated them straight into his villa once they were outside of the club. Hermione felt dizzy with their quick disappearance. She looked at Draco, her face forming into a worried frown when she saw his cold eyes.

"Draco is,—did I do something wrong?" She insecurely asked. She had complied with his wishes for the evening, eventually relaxing and even getting a lap dance at his club. She had fun and couldn't think of one thing that went wrong.

"No." His voice was hoarse and he stepped to her, she took a half step back. The look he had could only be described as dangerous.

"Then…why do you look mad?" She swallowed and wetted her lips. He continued his descent on her. His eyes moved over her body, making her take a sharp inhale. Her feet stopped working, her body told her to wait for him, wanting to be caught by him.

"Because," he said, wrapping an arm around her back and roughly tugging her body into his, a low growl rising from his chest, "I don't like sharing."

A/N: The dam will break soon...or at least crack ;)