Chapter 5

I know this is really, really short, but again – I'm leaving on another short vacation tomorrow and won't have time to post until Tuesday. I wanted to give you something and this is what I've got so far.

Next week, starting Tuesday I don't have anything time-consuming planned and will have more time to write – so hopefully the chapters will start getting longer.

Thank you again for all your reviews – I love reading them and they make me crazy inspired to keep writing! Thank you also to all of those that followed and/or favorite my story!


For all eyes to see – Chapter 5


Walking into the club, I look around and spot her almost immediately up on one of the stages. I let out a breath I wasn't aware I'd been holding. She's completely engulfed in what she's doing and just like last time, she doesn't seem to be aware of the men watching her. Her eyes never fall on any of them. She doesn't resemble the Anastasia I saw I my nightmare the least bit, no – this Anastasia looks just as sweet and innocent as I remembered.

She doesn't quite resemble the Anastasia I met at the coffee shop either. No. That Anastasia was more present in the moment. Happier. Smiling. This Anastasia is distant. Her face is expressionless.

Her underwear, which she hasn't taken off yet, is dark red and a piece of clothing in the exact same color lies on the floor of the stage; probably something she wore when she went on.

I focus my eyes on Anastasia, trying not to think about the other men watching her. I can't think about that. Not that it is an effort focusing solely on her. I don't think I could focus on anything else even if I wanted to.

Oh, the way she moves. It's like she's exploring her own body, feeling it's every curve and move. It's sexy. Incredibly sexy.

I feel a strong rush of something I would describe as jealousy if I didn't know better. I don't want anyone else seeing her like this. I want that pale, delicious-looking skin exposed for me, and me only.

Without taking my eyes off her, I move closer to her stage. Why is she doing this? The jealous-like feeling gives way for a feeling I'm much more familiar with: anger. Why is she degrading herself like this?

And all the men watching her; what if someone thinks they have a shot and decides to go for it? She should be more careful. She shouldn't put herself at risk like this. She ought to know what kind of effect she has on men.

When I feel I've gotten close enough, I stop and lean myself against a pillar a few feet away from the scene. Close enough? I can't get close enough. I cross my arms over my chest.

Anastasia has started lowering the shoulder straps on her bra and I can literally feel my face turning into stone. In a matter of minutes her perfect breasts will be exposed for all eyes to see.

She turns around in my direction and suddenly it's like someone's taken a needle and pressed it against her bubble until it burst – she freezes as she meets my eyes.

Her face isn't expressionless any longer. No. Her eyes have widened and her mouth has dropped open. She's shocked.

I feel, rather than notice, eyes turning my way as the drooling men looks to see who has interrupted their pleasure. Anastasia must have noticed too, because she makes an attempt to pick up her dancing. But the moves look strained and nervous and there's a fervent blush on her cheeks. Her eyes are cast down towards the floor.

And before I get the chance to react to the fact that she's seen me and obviously recognized me, she stumbles on her blood-red high heels. As in slow-motion I see her left ankle twist in what I'm sure is a very painful angle and she falls to the floor.

Without thinking, I rush towards her and I think I'm calling her name as I do so. But before I can reach her, a tall, muscular man with the words security written on his shirt appears in my way.

He gestures for me to stop, jumps up on stage and helps Anastasia up to a standing position. I notice she doesn't put any weight on her left foot and she clings on to the security man's arm as if she was holding on for life. She's hurt. She's hurt and it's my fault.

"Anastasia!" I try to call at her attention over the man's shoulder. He flinches at the mention of her real name.

"Ana, do you know this man?" He moves slightly to the side and I see her big, blue eyes looking right at me and to my great relief, she nods. That's all I need before I climb up on stage to join them.

I try to push past him, now that he knows she knows who I am, he must let me talk to her. I need to know how badly she's hurt. But he blocks her with his body again.

"Do you want to talk to him?" He asks her and on some level I feel relieved by the fact that he seems to be taking his job so seriously – but at the same time I'm furious at him for keeping her from me when all I want is to make sure she's okay.

She nods again. "It's okay Tony. You can step back"

He releases his grip on her and she falters as she tries to regain her balance with only one foot steadily on the ground. I launch forward and offer her my support, beating the security guard – apparently named Tony – to it. He rolls his eyes.

"I'm right over here" He gestures towards the curtain at the end of the stage, separating the backstage area from the club. "Call if you need me" He adds before walking back to his position.

I'm holding my hand around Anastasia's waist and even though the touch isn't in any way meant to be sexual, my entire body is reacting to the feel of her body next to mine. My pulse quickens, my cock comes to life and I feel like there's soft, light jolts of electricity shooting through my nerve-system.

Her skin feels so soft I have to muster up all of my self-control to keep my hand from wandering from her waist to touch more of it. I take a deep breath to retain control over my body. Oh fuck, she smells good!

I'm ripped out of my thoughts as I feel her arm reach around my back, probably to gain more support. I tense momentarily before her arm settles on my lower back, right above my waistband.

Awakened from the trance her closeness had set me in, I'm suddenly very aware of all the people still watching us. "Let's get you off stage" I say and Anastasia complies, nodding.

Slowly, we start walking towards the curtain and when I notice her grimacing in pain as she tries to walk I make a rush decision and sweep her up into my arms.

Her eyes widen again and she utters a surprised "Oh", but seems to be relieved at the chance of getting off the stage and away from the staring eyes of her audience quicker.

She's so light. She weighs practically nothing. I could easily hold her in my arms as I fuck her. Not now, I scold myself. See to her injuries first – think about fucking her later.

Once we're safely behind the curtain I set her down and with her eyes glued to the floor she whispers "Thank you".

"You're hurt" I state and I want to kick myself when I hear how accusing my words sound. That was not my intention. It's not her fault she got hurt. If anything, it's my fault.

"We need to get you to a doctor to have that ankle looked at" I make an effort to make my voice sound soft to take the edge of my previous accusation.

"I don't think that's necessary" She says, still in a low voice and without meeting my eyes.

"Really" She continues when I don't say anything and she loosens the grip she's had around my waist. "I'm okay" For the first time since I carried her backstage she looks up at me with an embarrassed smile.

I feel my lips pressing against each other. She's not okay. She's hurt. Why won't she let me take her to see a doctor?

To prove just how okay she is, she lets go of my arm completely. "Thank you for your help, but I'm okay now"

She takes a step back and her face is distorted by pain and she falters when her weight falls on her injured foot. I launch forward just in time to catch her before she falls to the floor again.

I'm holding her in my arms in what would most likely be described as an embrace. I feel her body pressing against mine as she leans to relieve her injured foot of any pressure. Focus. I need to focus.

I open my mouth to inform her that I'm taking her to see a doctor and will not accept any objections to the matter when she looks up at me and meets my eyes. Shit!

It feels as if though time is standing still. I've always hated those metaphors; really, time standing still, who the hell buys into that shit? Right now – I am. Time standing still. Yep. Moment frozen in time. Absolutely. The rest of the world stops moving. No doubt.

I sink my gaze down to her lips. They're slightly parted and I can hear her breathing. Her breaths are shallow and I can almost feel the anticipation in the air between us. She wants me to kiss her. And, oh God, how I would want that too! Just one little taste of those sweet, sweet lips.

No. I tear my gaze away from them, knowing all too well that one little taste won't be enough. If I allow myself that, I won't be able to stop until I've tasted every delicious inch of her and I can't do that. Not now. She's injured and I need to get her to a hospital.

I clear my throat. "Let's find you some clothes. I'm taking you to see a doctor"

I see her eyes dropping as the moment is broken. Soon Anastasia, soon. I just need you to sign an NDA, make sure we're on the same page and then I'll taste you and you'll love it. I can't fucking wait.