Author's Note: this story is posted to Literotica for the purpose of entertainment and feedback. I do not give content or trigger warnings, proceed at your own risk. Anything that has more than one chapter will be considered slow burn by this site's standards, but I usually post quickly.
****
I don't recognize the woman in the mirror, pampered, powdered, and polished to a sheen. Damien smirks, smoothing one of the long, loose curls he's put into my hair, and licks his thumb to tidy up the edge of my eyeliner.
"Good enough to eat, Henny Penny." He steps back and gives me another once over, looking incredibly pleased with himself. "I just need to dress you all the time."
The electric blue of the fitted club dress glows against my skin, lending color to my eyes. The smoky eyeliner and subtle shimmer of copper in the eyeshadow makes me feel glamorous, and I still can't believe what he's done to my hair, turning the unruly dirty blonde mop into a shining fall of waves and curls. I turn to the side, expecting to see bulges, but all I can see is how the lacing on the side of the ruched skirt draws the eye up, making my legs look longer. I bend down to adjust the ankle strap on the low heels, and Damien pauses in applying his own eyeliner in the vanity mirror.
"Oh, sweetheart. Don't do that in public, okay?"
I follow his gaze to my butt in the mirror, and realize the lacy black edge of my undies are showing. Color floods my cheeks and I hurry to tug down the skirt. Damien just snickers and finishes his makeup. His own pants look like they've been painted on, shiny black leather tucked into massive boots covered in buckles and spikes. He ruffles his long fringe of bangs and slips a pendant on a black thong over his head. It slips below the open collar of his black dress shirt, and he turns to catch my wrist, tugging at my black sports watch.
"Last touch. This ugly thing is killing the whole vibe. Divas don't wear ugly watches."
"Oh, no, Damien-"
He drops the wide band on the sink beside us and my hand instantly covers the tattoo on my wrist. He smiles, lifting my arm and turning it until the tiny spray of flowers comes into view.
"I love that you hide this, Pen. It's such an innocent secret." He lifts my skin to his lips and brushes them across the little patch of black and pink ink. "But you don't have to hide anything from us, you know."
He gives me a quick hug before dragging me out of the bathroom, leaving me no time to answer.
Dave's appreciative whistle as he joins us in the hallway pumps more blood into my cheeks. He's gorgeous in a white tee and blue jeans, casual to Damien's chic.
"You look stunning, sunshine." He loops a friendly arm over my shoulder. "Ready to go dancing?"
I nod. I can't dance, but they don't need to know that. My plan is to sit at the bar, have a soda, and watch them dance. I look around as we reach the front door.
"Is Darren staying home?" I don't want to sound hopeful, but I'm unsettled by the moody Brit. His rapid attitude changes make me wonder from moment to moment if he hates me.
"He went to get the car," Damien says. Dave's hand spans my lower back and he urges me gently through the door and down the steps as a shiny silver Land Rover sweeps around the house. I can't help feeling a little like Cinderella as I'm handed into my modern day pumpkin, my fairy godfather sliding in beside me.
I giggle, trying to picture Darren and Dave as the mice- there's no way I could ever manage it. Damien's hand lands on my bare knee and he gives me a quick squeeze of reassurance. There's some quiet conversation up front, but I'm content to just sit back and watch the city lights. My dim reflection in the window wears an unfamiliar smile, and I make a silent pact with myself to just enjoy the night. Tomorrow I'll be back to my boring sneakers and bun, shelving books, but tonight- well, tonight, I'll try to live in a fairytale.
There's a line outside the club when we pull up, but Darren passes his keys off to the valet and strides towards the bouncer guarding the velvet ropes of the VIP entrance. I stumble a little in my heels trying to keep up, but Dave and Damien are on either side ready to rescue me from my own clumsy feet. I smooth a hand down my dress and shake my hair off my face, pretending I belong with these beautiful men.
The bouncer's wide smile when he sees Darren is genuine, reaching all the way to his eyes, and he actually inclines his body in a sort of bow as he unclips the rope and steps aside to let us pass. I grab Damien's arm, pressing against him as a wall of bass and brilliant strobe lights stops me cold in the doorway. I blink against the onslaught, until I see Darren's silhouette pause and turn back towards us. I catch a glimpse of his frown as he stands there waiting.
"You okay Penny?" Dave leans down to shout in my ear. I shake my head, then nod, and I can feel his breath against my shoulder as he sighs. His cologne is something fresh and sweet smelling, and I take a greedy whiff as he slips me out of Damien's protection and tugs me forward. I can feel the play of muscles in his forearm under my hand, and he guides me towards the stairs that lead to the reserved section above the dance floor.
"Hey, guys!" The waitress who meets us at the top already has a wine bottle wrapped in a black cloth open. She smiles widely at my companions as she leads us to a curved couch next to the glass balcony. Dave gives her a lazy grin and plucks the bottle from her hand, leaning over to put it on the low table.
"How are you, beautiful?"
She flutters her eyelashes at him and cuts her gaze sideways at me. I tell myself I'm imagining the hostility coming from that stare, and tug self consciously at the skirt of my dress.
"The usual for everyone?"
"That's fine." Darren dismisses her with a curt nod and Dave snorts.
"Rude ass. Penny, do you want a cocktail? Beer?"
"Uhm, just a Coke, maybe?" I have to lean into him to be heard over the music and my ankle tries to roll. I catch myself on Darren's arm, feeling him stiffen under my touch. I snatch my hand away as Dave charms the girl.
"Coke for the lady, Bella. Beer for me. Everyone else can fend for themselves." She smiles at him again and heads for the bar as Damien pats the cushioned seat beside him. I sink down next to him and look around, my hands folded nervously in my lap. I haven't been to a bar since college, and this is an entirely different world than the cheap dives with two for one shots and a crappy cover band blaring out bad renditions of the Top 40.
"Relax."
Damien's lips skim my ear, his tone teasing. "This is supposed to be fun."
"Maybe for you," I whisper back. "Darren's not glaring at you. I don't think he likes me."
Damien's eyes dance with mischief and he pulls me back against the cushions, rearranging my posture until I'm practically draped over him, my legs over his thigh, my heels practically in Darren's lap.
"He likes you, Penny. We all like you. You're a likable person. Now, relax!" He hands me my soda and accepts a glass of wine from Dave. It's too loud for casual group conversation, so I settle for crowd watching while Damien tells me salacious gossip tidbits about the people around us.
"Bella, our bottle girl? She's having an affair with that guy." He jerks his chin towards a handsome black man, lounging in an oversized chair with a stunning woman on his lap. I recognize him as a popular player for some local sports team, although I couldn't tell you which one.