Violet club nymph book 1, p.1

Violet (Club Nymph Book 1), page 1


Violet (Club Nymph Book 1)

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Violet (Club Nymph Book 1)













































  To Shhluts*…

  You all gave me the strength I needed.

  *Shhlut: noun /ʃlʌt/

  An intelligent, sophisticated, beautiful, sexy, popular and creative woman who loves books.


  Copyright ©2016 by Abby Gale | All Rights Reserved |

  Cover illustration and book design by Abby Gale

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except the brief quotations for reviews. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any similarities were surely not intentional.

  Editing: Snow

  Blurb: CC-Snow-SueBee

  Proofreading: Nawal

  Final editing&proofreading: Joshua Edward Smith

  This book has explicit sexual scenes with a ménage relationship. It is for 18+ adult readers only. So, if this is not something you like, make your decision carefully. But if it sounds like something you’ll like, well, I hope you’ll enjoy the book.

  Letting the breath out of my lungs, I closed my eyes to forget about everything but the music. It was just sensual melody and me on the stage.

  The music caressed my body like a passionate lover, urging me to move. It was like a drug—a seductive demand to dance. Soothing, yet demanding…

  I crooked my neck back a little after my hands found their places in my soft, violet hair. My left hand moved down to my throat, slowly, without my permission. I could feel my heartbeat on my fingertips. The music continued to play seductively, forcing my hands to go down further.

  My fingertips softly touched my almost naked body, like feathers all around me. They awakened the goosebumps on my supple skin. I forgot where or who I was and let the music take control over my body. My fingers tangled into the thick waves of my hair again. It softly slapped against my back and my shoulders as I moved my hips with the music; each move synchronized with each beat.

  I opened my eyes when my body started to heat up. Grabbing the pole with my right hand, I looked through the darkness. Darkness was good—it helped me focus on the task and made me bold.

  Lifting my right leg around the pole, I balanced my weight on the thin metal bar. It was cold and welcoming against my heated skin. My leg tightened around the metal bar while my hand let go of it. My head fell back toward the darkness and I scanned the room without seeing.

  I pretended that my predator was there, in the darkness…watching me, analyzing me, testing me…I could feel it in my bones. That thought gave me chills but it also reminded me of my motives, pushing me to be better.

  I needed to be good. I needed to be the best.

  Grabbing the pole with my right hand, I pulled myself toward the metal in a swift move and loosened my leg around it before facing the room. My audience must have thought I could see them, but they were wrong. There was no one but me and nothing but the pulsating, sinful music. Though I knew they could see me clearly. I knew they were watching me like hawks. My curvy yet fit form was in front of them to want me, to desire me and maybe even to judge me. I could feel the pressure of their hungry gazes on my skin. Their eyes roamed my curves hungrily. I knew what they saw. Shaped legs, full hips, toned stomach and full breasts. Some of them might even imagine my body underneath theirs.

  The tension around the room was like a living thing as I slowly slid down and bent my knees in front of me. I waited until the tension wrapped my body. I couldn’t see anyone, but I could feel their excitement soar into me, pulsating around me. I knew they were waiting for my next move and that made me smile. That gave me a strange power over the room and everyone in it.

  With the sharp note of the music, I spread my legs apart and dropped my hand from the pole to my breasts, caressing the swell of them. My hand moved down a little more to play with my nipples through the white lace of my bra. The white lace on my tan skin didn’t leave much to the imagination. My light brown nipples were visible under the spotlight above me.

  My hand fell from my breast to the waistband of the white lace panties, straight down to cup my sex. I was wet; my body enjoyed this no matter what the reason was. I slid my hand inside my panties, slowly rubbed my wetness all over my bare skin as my back arched with the sensation. My lips parted in the shape of an O while I played with my sensitive spot.

  The track changed into something more seductive and devilish. It was an ironic change, really, while I sat there with angel wings and white underwear, to play with myself in front of the crowd.

  After getting my hand out of the panties I brought my fingers to my lips. I could feel my own arousal, I could smell it and with a flick of my tongue, I could taste it. It was a bold move, but it made me feel wild. I opened my eyes and put my hand back on the pole.

  I smiled mischievously toward the room even though I couldn’t see anything. It was all an illusion.

  I pulled myself up slowly and moved my hips seductively against the pole. Hard and cold metal slid between my ass cheeks. I put my hands on my shoulders, lowered them and caressed my curves teasingly before stopping at the front of my bra.

  My show was all about creating the feeling of anticipation. That’s why I waited until the music reached its sharp note to unclasp my bra and let it fall from my body. I played with my puckered nipples before turning my back to the crowd.

  I needed to be good. I needed to be the best.

  This mantra chanted over and over in my head.

  The moment the room filled with high and totally passionate music, I jumped to the pole with my legs and arms wrapped around it like it was my lover. Balancing myself with my hands, I rubbed my core up and down to the metal bar.

  The music became more dangerous and sensual with each second. It urged me to be bolder and I couldn’t resist the temptation. Releasing the pole, I balanced myself with my legs only. The metal was slick between my legs but I didn’t care while leaning back. Adrenaline pumped through my veins.

  Listening to the music carefully I waited to make my last move. The beat of the song was making love with the tension around the room. The pulsating rhythm and anticipation were palpable. Music, my dance, the excitement and anticipation…everything in the club was like the a
ct of sex. The note reached near to the climax of the song and I pulled the straps of my panties on both sides.

  The stage darkened as I suspended in the air with my legs wrapped around the pole, wearing nothing but the white angelic wings on my shoulders.

  I was falling from heaven like a fallen angel…in the real world…

  I was going to be a dancer…a lover…and a liar…




  A new one came…a new blood. Just at the right time, the moment when I needed a new toy.

  It was luck that I was here tonight and I could leave without anyone knowing I was even here.

  All thanks to the purple haired beauty…my new toy.

  The spark in her eyes was mesmerizing. It would be a lot of fun to break her, turn her skin red, and leave marks on her flawless skin.

  I would watch as the brightness leaves her, making her vulnerable to me.

  I sat in my dark corner, watching her dance, moving that sinful body to the music. She had no idea who was watching her or whose attention she’d gotten.

  But I had my eyes on her.

  And all I had to do was wait…wait for the right moment.

  I paced back and forth in the room anxiously. This was my first real show and I had no idea if I got the job.

  I needed this job. I needed to be here.

  This mantra put a pressure on me—I couldn’t silence the voice that replayed in my mind. It was the responsibility I felt with my every breath.

  When I heard the knock on my door I stopped moving and took a deep breath before answering, “Come in.”

  William Harrison, my soon-to-be boss, closed the door behind him.

  There was something about him that I didn’t like. I only saw him once before tonight but the look he gave me—along with his crooked smile—kept me on guard when it came to him. It was just a gut feeling, but I was nervous. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was alone with him or because I was afraid of his decision about the job. I anxiously started to play with the strap of my cheap silk robe.

  “Well, well, Violet…that was a good show you gave in there,” he said smugly. I looked at him with surprise. That must mean I got the job, right?

  “Thank you, Mr. Harrison,” I murmured.

  “Oh, Violet, love. Call me Will,” he said in a manner that was too friendly for my taste. But I didn’t say anything. The desire to be here was so strong it pulsed through my body. His hungry look made me shift my weight from one foot to another, feeling uncomfortable.

  To be honest, he was good-looking. His hair was sandy blonde and messy in an attractive way. He was in dark jeans and a white shirt but he wasn’t neat. His shirt was half outside of his jeans. Even though he was appealing in this sexy-careless-bad boy look, that wasn’t enough to ease the uncomfortable feeling inside of me. I got the impression that he was one of those guys who got everything they wanted, one way or another.

  When he took a step toward me I couldn’t stop as I moved back nervously. My move brought a smirk on his face as he brushed his thumb against his bottom lip slowly while looking at me from under his long lashes. If there wasn’t the sinister look in the depth of his eyes, he could have looked hot in that moment. But the darkness was there, behind his green orbs.

  “Am I making you nervous, Violet?” he asked. He knew the answer very well but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

  I shrugged.

  “I am just nervous about your decision, Mr. Harrison,” I said and remembered he wanted me to call him Will. Actually, I didn’t like calling him by his first name but didn’t want to sound like an arrogant bitch, either.

  “I mean, Will,” I corrected myself. “Am I hired?”

  He took one more step toward me and touched the loosened strand of my violet hair.

  “You are hired, love. I wouldn’t miss the chance to see your perfect body every night on my stage. I believe we will get along well, Violet,” he said with a husky voice.

  I swallowed the nerves and reminded myself that I needed this job to stop my possible snarky remark.

  “Yes, Will. Thank you,” I said trying to sound nonchalant. I made my way to the door and was relieved that he didn’t try to stop me.

  “I’m a little tired, boss. You know the first night on the new job and all. If you will excuse me, I’m going to get ready to go home” I said sweetly and maybe a little flirtatiously. I didn’t want to make him angry in my first night, and I didn’t want him to think that I wasn’t interested.

  The truth was I wasn’t interested in “getting along well” with him, at all. But I knew getting the job would be easier if he thought he had a chance with me. Then, so be it. I wouldn’t make my real thoughts obvious to him.

  He gazed at me for several seconds with a smile playing on his lips. His smile grew as he came to where I leaned against the door and his hand went to my cheek for a slow caress with his knuckles.

  “Okay then, Violet. Get some rest. I’m sure you’ll need your strength for the coming nights,” he said and winked at me before walking out of the room.

  After I closed the door behind him, I sighed with relief and got ready to go home. But it turned out I wasn’t ready to go just yet. I needed a drink before calling it a night.

  I turned back in the hallway and made my way inside the club. There was another stripper on the stage when I sat on the barstool. The realization hit me hard while I was watching the dancer.

  I made it. I got the job. I was a stripper-pole dancer in the club.

  I tried not to think what I had done on the stage. It was something I had to do to follow through with my plans—it was the first step. The only thing that mattered was that I got the job. I straightened my back with determination as I scanned the room carefully. It was hard to see anything. The light of the room was purple and dim, creating a halo around my violet hair.

  The illusion of an angel…

  “Would you like something to drink, Angel or will you just breathe the atmosphere in?”

  The voice startled me. I took a second before turning to see the source of the question and smiled politely. He was the bartender with a genuine smile that made me instantly like him.

  “Angel?” he asked when I didn’t say anything.

  I smiled and answered. “Actually, it’s Violet and a gin and tonic would be great.”

  “I’m Channing Paxton but everyone calls me Pax in here,” he said and held out his hand for me to shake.

  “I like the sound of Channing. I think I will call you like that, if it’s okay with you,” I said as I shook his hand.

  “Oh, finally someone who gives credit to my name. You’re my new favorite, girl. Your gin and tonic is on the way,” he said, winking at me.

  He slid back within a minute with my drink in his hand.

  “So, you’re new here? How was the first night?” he asked politely.

  “It was okay, I think. Did my show and talked with the boss,” I said as I sipped my drink.

  “If you say your show was okay, I have to disagree with you. It was awesome. But if you mean okay for the boss…Well, you are very polite, then,” he answered.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at his answer.

  “Thank you…for the compliment. And about the boss, well…He was…” I struggled to find the right word without sounding like a bitch.

  “An ass?” he offered. I nodded with a laugh.

  “He is good with the club but I won’t say the same thing about him and the girls,” he said.

  I frowned. “Why?” I asked trying to sound nonchalant but I wasn’t sure if I succeeded.

  “You must have noticed that he is a good-looking son of a bitch. He doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer and he can’t keep his dick in his pants,” he answered honestly.

  “You mean, he has his way with girls even if they say no?” I asked terrified.

  Channing laughed at my expression. “No, Violet. He may be an arrogant asshole but I do
n’t think he is a rapist. The problem is no one said no to him and he is not someone who can have long-term relationships. So when girls realize he is just after sex, they become heart-broken,” he explained.

  “Oh, I’m relieved. I think,” I said and Channing laughed again.

  “Don’t worry. He will probably try his way with you a few times but I don’t think he will be a problem. And if he is…well, I’m here, Angel,” he winked at me.

  “Thank you, Channing,” I said with a smile.

  We both realized at the same time the bar area had gotten crowded during our conversation.

  “Oh, I’m sorry I kept you from your work. I’ll go soon, you take care of your customers,” I said.

  “They probably missed me,” he said, winking at me.

  “Your drink is on the house. Enjoy, Angel,” he said before he turned back to the crowd.

  I finished my drink and yelled a “Thank you” at him.

  “Welcome to Club Nymph” He yelled back at me while I grabbed my purse.

  I repeated the words to myself…

  “Welcome to Club Nymph.”

  I decided to use the front exit of the club. My towering heels were killing me—I didn’t want to walk all the way to the staff entry. I gave a small smile to the security guy who was standing at the door. I tried to look friendly enough but he wasn’t buying it. He was so tall and muscular, I barely reached his chest. Wearing a black suit with a black t-shirt, he reminded me one of those guys I have seen in the mafia movies.

  I cleared my throat to get his attention as he clearly ignored me.

  “Hi, I’m Violet. I’m new here and Mr. Harrison said I must use the club car to go home,” I said.

  He finally looked at me, almost reluctantly, and with a brief nod he reached inside of his jacket for his phone.

  “Zac, Miss Violet needs a ride,” he said coldly and with another nod to my way he opened the door for me.

  “Thank you. Goodnight,” I said without him acknowledging me.

  The cold air hit me hard when I stepped outside, causing me to tug my jacket tighter around me to feel a little warmer but there was no such luck. It was the coldest October I had witnessed in Seattle within the last six years. A shiver shook my body but I wasn’t sure if the actual reason was the cold. Feeling like I was being watched I scanned my surroundings for something, or someone, that gave me the chills. But there was nothing except the wheezing sound of the wind, darkness that surrounded the alley and bumping sound of the music that came from the club—I was alone outside. I shook my head to ease my paranoia.

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