"Are you judging me?" she asks curiously.

"No, absolutely not!" I wave my hands in the air. "No judgment."

She peers at me in disbelief. "Wait. Have you never had sex before?"

I lower my head and admit, "No, never."

"Never?" She draws back. "Wow. Now I'm rethinking your relationship with Reed because there's no way that dude is going without."

"I-I-I-" I stutter, at a loss for words.

She slaps a hand across her mouth. "I did not mean that. If he's with you, then I guarantee he's not sleeping around. When he dated Abby, I never saw him hook up with another girl."

"Yeah, okay." I feel a little numb. It never even occurred to me that he might be sleeping with someone else. Is that why he's not pressuring me?

Valerie squeezes my shoulder. "It was a stupid comment. I didn't mean anything by it. Honest. I tried to be funny and it came off wrong. Forgive me?"

"Of course." I hug her, but in the back of my mind, doubt has crept in.

A few minutes later, we step out of my bedroom in our teeny dresses, high heels, and big hair. Easton is leaving his room at the same time and lets out a long whistle. "Where are you two going?"

"Moonglow. They're having another rave," I explain.

He quirks an eyebrow. "You tell Reed about this?"

"No. Should I?" I hadn't seen Reed since this morning.

"All right. See you later," Easton says and jogs down the stairs.

"Later where?" I yell after him.

"Where do you think?" He snorts. "I tell Reed you're wearing a Band-Aid and cage dancing and you're going to have one hot-headed Royal on your hands."

"So I guess that's a yes that Reed and Easton will be there tonight," Valerie surmises.

I don't make any attempt to hide my satisfied smile.

Valerie and I are escorted to the cages almost before we can clear the entrance. I guess they remember us. We put on a show for two songs until I hear my name being called. I look down through the bars and see Easton with his hands cupped around his mouth yelling my name.

When he catches my attention, he points toward the bar. I follow the line of his arm to Reed, who's leaning against the bar top in virtually the same pose as that first night Valerie and I danced here. Only this time he doesn't disappear.

He waits.

He waits for me to climb down from the cage.

He waits for me to walk all the way across the room.

He waits for me to reach him.

And all the while his blazing eyes track each step that brings me closer.

I halt a hand's width away. "What are you thinking about?" I ask huskily.

He looks pointedly at my chest and then the length of my legs exposed by the short, tight black skirt. "You know exactly what I'm thinking about." He inhales deeply. "But since we're in public, I can only think about it"

I lift a hand to his shoulder, and this guy who doesn't like public displays of affection takes it and brings it to his mouth. His hot breath gusts against my palm and then, with a hard jerk, he brings me flush against him.

"You're driving half the guys in here crazy," he growls against my hair.

"Only half?" I joke.

"The other half are in love with Easton," he informs me. He dips his hand underneath my hair and runs it all the way down to the small of my back. A small tug brings me sharply between his legs. We both suck in a breath when we make contact.

"Wanna dance," I manage to croak out.

He tosses back whatever he's drinking, slams the empty glass on the bar, and takes my hand. "Let's go."

On the dance floor, we press tight against each other. One of his strong thighs finds its way between my legs and he bends his knees so that I'm virtually riding him. Then he runs his fingers across the newly exposed skin at the backs of my thighs.

I twine my arms around his neck and hang on, trusting him.

"I almost exploded in my pants watching you dance," he rasps in my ear.

"Yeah? You like watching Val and I dance together?" I tease. Every guy's fantasy, I think.

"There was someone else up there with you?" He smooths a hand over my hair. "I only saw you."

I nearly melt into a puddle of goo. "Keep talking like that and you might get lucky."

His breath hitches and his fingers tighten against my flesh. "You want to get out of here?"

Heated, anxious, totally desperate for him, I nod helplessly.

"Let me find Easton and let him know we're taking off." He squeezes my hand and leans forward to brush his lips against my temple. That innocent kiss lights me up.

"I'm going to the bar to get a glass of water." I'm beyond parched.

"Okay, I'll be back in a sec."

Reed is swallowed up by the crowd while I move in the opposite direction and attempt to flag down a bartender. Val is still up in the cages, dancing her pretty booty off.

A cute guy with floppy brown hair stands in front of me. He's wearing a button-down shirt rolled and cuffed over a pair of plaid shorts. He looks vaguely familiar and I wonder if he goes to Astor Park.

"Ella Royal, right?" he asks.

I've given up on trying to get anyone to call me by my actual last name. I hold a tenner between my fingers and one of the bartenders acknowledges me with a tip of his chin. "Water," I mouth. The girl nods and I stuff the tip into the jar. It's a lot of money for water, but I'm thirsty and I figure it's the fastest way to get served. "Yeah, I'm Ella. Are you from Astor Park?"

"Scott Gastonburg." He leans an elbow on the counter. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." I take the glass from the bartender and yell my thanks.

"I'm just wondering whether you started with the twins and are moving up the Royal age ladder, or are you just jumping around?"

I jerk around so fast the water spills all over my hand. "Screw you."

He holds out his hands. "I'm more than willing, baby, but my last name's not Royal."

I resist the urge to throw the entire contents of the glass in this asswipe's face. "Go to hell." I slam the glass on the bar top, then turn around and bump into Reed.

He takes one look at my face, then at Plaid Shorts' insolent expression, and immediately sizes up what's going on.

His eyes narrow and he shoves me behind him. "What'd you say to her?" he demands.

"It's nothing." I tug on Reed's arm. "Nothing. Let's just go."

Scott either lacks any self-preservation instincts or has a lot of liquid courage, because he grins and says, "Ellie here just offered to screw me but I reminded her I wasn't a Royal. I'm not even a cousin, but hey, I'm willing to take her off your hands once she's done with you guys."

Reed's fist flies out so fast I don't have a chance to react. By the time I realize what's going on, Scott is on the ground and Reed is pounding on him. Even over the heavy bass, I can hear the crack of knuckles against bone.

"Reed! Reed! Come on!" I yell and pull at his shoulders, but he's too focused on rearranging all of Scott's features. Others try to help me, although I think some of them are actively cheering on the fight.

Finally three bouncers push through the crowd and yank Reed away, leaving Scott lying on the floor-blood streaming from his nostrils and one eye swollen shut.

"You're going to have to leave," one of the black T-shirt clad bouncers snaps.

"Fine." Reed jerks out of the bouncer's grasp and grabs my wrist. I know what he wants before he opens his mouth.

"I'll get Easton," I assure him.

Reed nods. He points to one of the bouncers, a blond guy who looks like he eats steroids for breakfast and small children for dinner. "You, stay with her. Anything happens to her again," he stresses that word, "this place will be shut down and turned into a kiddie playground before end of business tomorrow."

I don't wait for the bouncers and Reed to come to an agreement. It's time for Reed to get out of here. He's filled with adrenaline and I can see he needs to exit this bar before the urge to get into another fight overtakes him.

"Easton's over by the bathrooms," Reed shouts as the bouncers escort him toward the entrance. I've lost track of Val, but I've got to get to Easton.

As I hurry away, I hear whispers. The people nearest to the fight have started gossiping.

"What just happened?"

"I think we just saw the proclamation of another Royal decree. Say anything bad about Ella Royal and you'll be drinking your meals from a straw for the next six months."

"She must be awesome in bed," someone remarks.

"No sex like trashy sex," another voice says. "Those bitches will let you do anything."

My ears burn and I'm tempted to repeat Reed's violent actions on every one of those smug faces, but I can't stop because I catch sight of Easton in the hallway near the bathrooms.

I push through the crowd, but Easton doesn't go into the men's room. Instead he walks to the end of the hall toward the exit door.

"Excuse me," I mutter as I duck around the line of girls waiting to use the ladies' room and past a couple making out in a not-so-dark corner.

"Easton," I call, but he doesn't stop. I know he hears me, because I can see his body twitch in acknowledgment. But he just keeps going.

I race down the hall, emerging from the door several seconds after him. I instantly skid to a halt.

He's in the back alley with two other guys, and it doesn't look like they're enjoying a smoke break.

Oh no. What has Easton gotten himself into?

The two guys have dark brown hair, slicked back away from their faces. They're wearing white T-shirts and jeans that hang down low and I'd bet if they turned around I'd see their boxers. Not that I would want to. A metal chain hangs from one of their belt loops.

"Go inside, Ella." Easton's voice is harder and colder than I've ever heard from him before.

"Now hold up," says the chain guy. "You can pay your debt off with her if you want." He grabs his crotch. "Lend the bitch to me for a week and we'll call it even."

My life before the Royals was filled with seediness, and I recognize a shake down when I see one.

The Monday night football game runs through my mind.

"How much?" I ask Mr. Chain.

"Ella-" Easton starts.

I cut him off. "How much does he owe you?"

"Eight grand."

I nearly faint, but beside me, Easton tries to shrug it off like eight grand is pocket change. "I'll have it next week. All you have to do is sit tight."

If it was pocket change he wouldn't be here in the back of the bar being threatened, and Mr. Chain knows it. "Yeah right. You rich kids live on credit, but not with me. I don't carry your broke asses on my books for longer than a week because I gotta pay the bills. So pony up your cash or you get to be this week's warning to all your pussy friends that Tony Loreno isn't anyone's pawn broker."

Easton's shoulders set in a hard line as he slightly adjusts his stance. Shit. He's preparing for a fight, and we all know it.

Tony reaches inside his pocket and fear spikes in my chest.

"Stop." I dig into my purse for my keys. "I've got your money. Wait here."

"What the hell, Ella?" Easton barks out.