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stupid to let a chance like this go.”
    Yoli cringed. “Zel…” Glancing toward the ceiling, she chewed her lower lip. There was no easy way to
    do this. She caught his gaze. “Zel, I understand what you’re saying. I really do. But this just isn’t a good
    time for me. I didn’t seduce you with the intention of making this anything more than a fling. That’s all it
    was for me.”
    Pain flashed across his face. She felt sick for having hurt him.
    “I don’t believe you,” Zel said finally.
    Yoli shrugged with affected nonchalance. “Believe whatever you want, but I’m telling you the truth.”
    “No, you’re lying. To yourself. To me.” Obviously upset, he strode to the door without so much as a
    sideways glance in her direction. Zel yanked open the door and Yoli realized she couldn’t let him leave like
    this.
    “Zel, wait!”
    He stopped abruptly. Slowly he pivoted to face her. There was nothing of the vulnerability he’d just
    shown her. Instead Zel wore a steeled expression. “What?”
    Taken aback by his anger, she gulped. “I’m sorry.”
    His cheek twitched. “I don’t think you are.”
    Hot tears stung her eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to end like this.”
    “No one ever does.”
    His piece said, Zel left, slamming the door behind him. Yoli collapsed onto the nearest seat and
    shattered into a million pieces.

Chapter Four
    Black hair whipping wildly, Yoli shook what her mama gave her center stage at Vegas’ hottest punk
    club. Queen’s Fat Bottomed Girls blared over the sound system as she performed her brand-new number
    for the thirtieth birthday bash of BJ Barnes, the lead singer of the infamous punk rock band Blue Sunday.
    Dressed like a sassy fifties pinup, Yoli worked the crowd into a frenzy as she teased them with the slow
    removal of her polka dot dress. The sight of her plump curves in vintage cherry red lingerie set them off.
    She smoothed her hands over the swell of her breasts and along the satin shaper hugging her tummy and
    hips. Tipped forward in her red heels, Yoli sashayed to the antique convertible parked stage left and
    crawled onto the hood. Her catlike movements showed off her best assets and had the crowd catcalling.
    With the grace of a gymnast, Yoli carefully balanced on the hood, her heels finding traction on the
    safety mat her crew had put in place. Rocking side to side, she unhooked the back of the shaper and peeled
    it away from her body. She tossed it overhead and did a sexy spin atop the hood, giving everyone a good
    look at the lacy briefs covering her voluptuous ass. Yoli gave her backside a hearty smack.
    The roar of approval sent shivers down her spine. Tonight, more than ever, Yoli desperately needed the
    energy of the pumped-up crowd. Despite being utterly heartbroken, she approached this engagement with
    the utmost professionalism. BJ deserved to feel like the center of her attention. Feeding off the crowd
    allowed Yoli to play up her sexiness and mischievous nature.
    Hips swiveling, she crouched low and gave them a peek between her thighs before sitting down on the
    edge of the hood. Her legs dangled over the side as she kicked off her pumps and then made a show of
    unsnapping her garters and peeling off one black stocking and then the other. She used one stocking as a
    prop, holding it beneath her breasts as she gave them a wild shake.
    Legs bare, Yoli dropped the stocking and slid off the hood. She danced back to center stage and hooked
    her thumbs in the lacy red briefs. Undulating like a belly dancer, Yoli dragged the panties down her ample
    hips inch by teasing inch to reveal a red G-string and the words “Happy Birthday BJ” emblazoned across
    her ass cheeks in fiery orange paint. The whistles and clapping nearly drowned out the music.
    She stepped out of her panties and strutted downstage until she could almost touch the crowd. Yoli
    made quick work of dispensing her bra. Red and black nipple tassels fluttered free, the thin cords