His Warm-Blooded Mate novel Chapter 3

LILITH

I fluffed my loose curls to add volume to them and then pushed the girls together making them look extra perky. My routine needed to be flawless because Goddess knew I needed the cash. Plus, it may or may not have inflated my ego a little knowing I was the highest-earning and most popular stripper in this club. Men always pined for what they couldn't get their hands on. I was that rare beauty they could look at, they could touch just enough to give me their money but once I was off stage they wouldn't get to see me again. It left them coming back for more and more each and every time.

My lips split into the brightest grin I could possibly muster, white teeth glinting against the lights framing the mirror I sat in front of. The lingerie I wore consisted of a lacy bra and thong with my signature color — purple. Silver platform heels adorned my feet and violet lenses blocked my yellowish hazel eyes. I hated the color because of the tints of yellow that streaked through my irises; hence the contact lenses. Men paid for the conventional standards of beauty and as much as they claimed to like natural beauty, they paid more for the superficial kind.

These were pointers I needed to take into consideration just so I could earn a living. Then there were your everyday perverts and disgusting pigs who thought just because I was an exotic dancer it meant they could do whatever they pleased with me. Most men that came in here weren't that bad. They were easy to deal with but there were the few that made me wish to sink my canines into them.

I rose to my feet when I knew the song playing outside was about to end. The girl currently on stage was almost done with her performance which meant I would have to go on right after her. I waited for the DJ to announce my stage name before strutting out onto the stage where blinding lights and horny men greeted me. No one realized I went by my actual name. The name Lilith was actually perfect for an exotic dancer.

I could be the taste of sin each of these motherfuckers needed.

Hooking my leg around the cool metal pole, I tilted my head back and let my lilac curls fall as if they were a waterfall. Love Is A Bitch by Two Feet started up and I began my routine. I swayed my hips to the beat, twirling around the pole as if it were my long-lost lover. It wasn't only about the pole, though. I made sure to touch myself most provocatively; getting on my hands and knees only to shaky my ass in the air for the men behind me while the men in front had a perfect view of the girls.

I felt their greedy hands on me when they tucked dollar bills into the straps off my thong or the cups of my bra. One of the men, the wealthiest of the bunch from what I could tell, decided he was entitled to get too handsy with my bra strap, attempting to slide it down my shoulder. I swallowed the growl crawling up my throat, my wolf coming forward but luckily, the lenses hid the switch in eye color.

Another reason why I wore the purple eye lenses.

I purposely curled my full lips into a sultry smirk, clasping the man's black tie. He looked like a douche, young and stupid on many levels, someone who was here to impress his friends and probably hid the fact he had a tiny penis. I tugged him toward me, letting my lips brush over his right ear.

"No touching what's not yours, big boy," I layered the seductive tone thick before pushing him back into his group of friends who hollered as if he had conquered the world.

The song was drawing to a close so I rose to my feet and ended my routine with a variation of the tabletop position, doing what was basically an upside-down split in mid-air. When it finally ended, I gathered all the money on the stage, blew a kiss to the disgusting men surrounding it, and went off backstage.

I pushed through the satin curtain finding a buzz of excitement in the air — these women were like crack heads constantly high on cocaine but this burst of excitement was something new. Hushed whispers were floating around paired with giggles from the younger girls; by younger, I meant girls around my age.

I moved to my usual spot, throwing a white tank top over my head and slipping into black tights. My platforms were exchanged for thigh-high boots.

"Girl, have you seen the new boss?" One of the younger girls, Beatrix from what I could remember, asked. She had pretty features, eighteen years of age with big grey eyes, blonde hair, big tits.

"New boss?" I rose my brow, my mind instantly flitting to a few weeks ago when I found Ambrosia nearly dead. It took too much effort to fight off my shiver.

"Yeah, he just came in and talk about tall, dark, and handsome but he's young as shit," Beatrix snorted with an equal amount of lust and amusement clouding her gaze.

"What's a few years difference, I'll be happy to help him get through his mommy issues if he has any," shouted one of the older girls from somewhere around the room. The others laughed but all I could do was smile.

Humans were so oblivious to the world around them sometimes.

"He's here, in his office?" I asked, hoping I could make a run for it before the vampire boss — because there was no way this place fell into human hands — realized a werewolf worked for him.

"Nah," another girl cackled.

"His eyes were glued on your performance from the moment he set foot into the place," Beatrix bumped her shoulder into mine as if I should have been thrilled about that.

All I could think of was: BUSTED!

"Fantastic," I breathed with a groan, "I guess with that being the main performance of the night it was bound to catch his attention."

"Why do you not sound happy about that?" Beatrix's smile faltered.

"It's nothing. Just a long night so I better get going. I'll see you girls tomorrow," I tucked my handbag under my arm, winking at them with another bright smile, "bye chickas."

They yelled a chorus of goodbyes with bits of colorful language slipping through. I would have stuck around, counted how much I made for the day, and then left but I needed to move before the vampire sniffed me out and decided to kick my ass.

I didn't get very far though. The dancers usually used the back exit so none of the men out front would be able to harass us. It was a harsh world and we had to find a way to deal with it. However, the exit was blocked by a tall man that gave off a cedar and smoke scent. His skin was deep brown and his eyes were a pool of honey brown framed by impossibly long lashes. The man had a buzz cut with a muscular build.

I growled when a sweet scent flooded my passages almost eradicating the smoke and cedar scent. Something about this sweetness appealed to me though. It reminded me of stepping out into a garden on a sultry spring day. I paused momentarily. Vampires, no matter what, never smelt appealing.

With slow steps, I turned around in the dimly lit hall, finding myself captured in a pair of white eyes that had my breath hitching. Flecks of blue swam in their depths and yet I still found myself captivated by the scary white irises.

"Mutt..." He hissed and my gaze dropped to his full pink lips. The word was meant to leave his mouth as an insult but it fell short.

I stomped down my fear, quickly assessing him. He was tall — just as the girls had mentioned. His obsidian locks were tousled as if he had just been running and his jaw could cut stone. His lean build was clad in a black button-down and shiny black slacks and dress shoes.