Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 61

Chapter 61: 61. Rebel II

Maisie

Lyon and I skipped school after he kissed me.

I was well aware of how far I’d fallen, because Maisie Adams would never have decided to skip school on purpose. Maisie Adams also wouldn’t let her best friend’s brother kiss her breathless against the library shelves. Neither would she have hopped on the back of his superbike without a helmet and let him take her across town, going far beyond the Night Shade territory.

Worse yet, Maisie Adeline Adams, would never have gone to a club.

But I was feeling lethargic.

Something in me was rebelling, and it decided the burn of alcohol and the heavy thumping of the bass in the air was just what it needed to fuel that feeling.

"Get down from there, Mace. Fuck," Lyon groaned as I unzipped my jacket and threw it at the crowd of writhing bodies below the table. "I only looked away for one bloody second."

He looked agitated.

I found that hilarious. He did bring me here, after all.

Okay, well, admittedly, before he’d disappeared up the staircases behind the club, he’d said, "I’ll be back in five minutes. I’ve got business to attend. Stay here with Ted, okay? And don’t accept any drinks from anyone."

He’d been gone longer than five minutes. And I’d watched the hot blonde who came to grab a drink by the bar I was seated drop a pill into her drink.

"What’s that?" I’d asked curiously.

Her lips curved and I watched her eyes grow glossy. "Never heard of Samantha, sweetie? It’s like Molly, but multiply by a hundred. Well, it isn’t legal yet, but the good stuff never is." She held out two pills. "Take ’em. It’ll shoot you straight to the heavens, I promise."

I’d glanced at the drugs warily. I didn’t know what or who Molly or Samantha was, but drugs at a strip club was definitely not a good idea.

"No, thank you," I had told her politely.

"You look parched," she had responded. "Park didn’t get you something to drink?"

I blinked in surprise. "You know Lyon?"

She smiled. "Sure. He’s a dear friend." She waved at the bartender and I couldn’t help but relax a little. "Is soda alright? They usually don’t serve those here, but I’m sure Ted could mix you something a little more... PG13."

I flushed, but she laughed softly and bumped my shoulder. "I’m kidding."

I’d taken one tiny gulp of the soda—not to be disrespectful to the woman—and ten minutes later, I had no idea what the hell I was doing.

Ten minutes later, I’d displaced the half naked stripper and was dangling off the pole, driving the crowd insane.

I’d never felt anything so thrilling in my whole life. There was liquid fire in my blood as I hooked my leg around the pole, marveling at the suppleness of my own body as I bent over backward, hair sweeping the floor of the table.

My breasts pushed against my tank top and the crowd went wild, men and women alike clamoring for more skin.

"Five hundred if you lose the pants!" a man yelled.

There were no clients at the other stripping poles. I was the show. The sensation. And I wasn’t even naked.

This was where I belonged, I thought. I didn’t need to ever return home. I wanted to remain desired. I wanted to feel anything except the jealousy and despair that had been eating at me alive for days. I just wanted to feel wanted.

I was hot. You know, maybe I should lose the pants.

"Do not take off your fucking pants, Mace," Lyon snarled. "Get down. Right now."

I straddled the pole. Humped it. Drove my fingers into my hair and rocked my hips in tandem to the music. I spun around, my hair whipping about my face, and then I climbed down onto all fours, crawling to the edge of the stage.

"Sweet mother of god," I heard another man say. "I’ll pay ten grand to see your perky tits, sweet cherry."

My mouth popped open on a fascinated gasp. "Really?"

Lyon turned point blank and punched him in the face.

I gasped again and then, started giggling.

Lyon turned an exasperated expression to me, and because I was right at the edge where he was, he had enough reach to yank me off the stage. "I’m taking you home."

I heard a roar of complaints behind me.

The owner—some human in a fancy grey suit and purple dye streaks in his hair—pushed his way toward to the front of the crowd.

His eyes crinkled as he handed me his card. "Come work for me sometime—"

Lyon snarled in his face, smacking the card into the ground. "Not happening, Barry. Go leech off on someone else. This one’s mine."

I staggered against Lyon as he led me through the crowd, my vision swimming. I giggled again. "There’s four of you, Lyon." We were slowly nearing the door and I swerved. "I don’t... want to go back."

"You can barely stand," he said, circling his arm around my waist to carry me out. His hold was respectful. He was trying so hard not to touch me or look at my cleavage.

I shook off the wave of vertigo that slammed into me. "Why did you kiss me, Lyon?"

He stilled.

My movements were fueled with anger, desperation and intoxication. I kissed him with the fury and frustration I felt when I saw them with her.

My hands were in his hair and his hands were on my back, my ass. He groaned into my mouth and squeezed. "Maisie..."

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