Read Fallen Angel (Club Burlesque) for Free Online Page B

she felt it, that blinding shudder. The girl in her mind changed with a click, and Violet moaned as she imagined her Lola Lola.
    She thought of Mallory.
     
    Alec knocked on the door.
    “Are you coming to bed soon?”
    Mallory looked at herself in the mirror, her mascara slightly smudged under her eyes. She opened the bathroom cabinet, searching for another container of Almay eyemakeup remover pads with oil. The waterproof mascara Poppy had lent her backstage must have been some crazy designer brand because she couldn’t get it to budge off her lashes. She’d already gone through half a dozen pads with no progress. She decided she’d have to break one of her cardinal rules and go to sleep with makeup on.
    She knew she’d look like a wreck in the morning, but she gave up and tossed the cotton pad into the garbage.
    Alec knocked again. “Are you alive in there? I’ll never figure out what you do in there all that time. Come on, Mal, open the door.”
    She opened the door. “It’s open. Happy now?”
    He looked adorable in his powder blue, long-sleeved T-shirt and navy blue boxers. He had great legs, an even better ass, and she loved nothing more than the feeling of his arms around her. It took all of her strength not to fold herself against him.
    “No. Why are you so pissy?” Alec said. “I know Billy’s a jerk sometimes, but he signs my paycheck. And trust me, he’s not a bad guy. Just a lot of talk.”
    “Can I finish taking off my makeup now?”
    She closed the door. Guys were so dense. Did he really think she was this upset about Billy? Did he think the argument last night had just evaporated—that there was an expiration date on the issue of his inviting Violet Offender on their date?
    She pulled her long dark hair into a ponytail and surveyed herself in the mirror. It felt good to be in a simple white cotton T-shirt after a night in costume, but she thought better of it. Maybe she was getting too domesticated—maybe that was why Alec was so intrigued by that crazy bitch, Violet Offender. It was difficult to imagine that woman in anything but corsets and leather. She probably slept in a spiked bra, handcuffed to her headboard.
    Mallory pulled off her T-shirt and wrapped a towel around herself. She crept out of the bathroom to her closet, where she pulled out a red camisole and matching underwear. She had zero interest in having sex with Alec, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t want to get a little something. She couldn’t wait to say no.
    He was in bed reading Vanity Fair . As soon as he noticed her in the room, he put the magazine down, watching her closely for any sign of warmth or forgiveness.
    She gave him nothing.
    The covers were tightly tucked on her side of the bed. She pulled them away just enough to slip her slim body between the sheets. She turned out her bedside light, her back to him.
    He moved under the covers, too, but didn’t make an attempt to touch her. She appreciated that. After a moment, he turned out his bedside light, too.
    The thought of going to sleep without talking suddenly made her want to cry.
    As much as she wanted to just shut him out, she couldn’t. Going to bed angry—or ending an argument with one of them storming out—had caused a lot of problems in the past. She hoped she had at least learned something after all of these years with Alec.
    “I’m really upset about last night,” she said. There. Simple and direct—healthy communication 101.
    “I know,” he said. “And I’m really sorry. Violet asked what I was doing after the show, I told her we were going to get a late dinner at the Stone Rose, and I just asked her if she wanted to go to be polite. The last thing I wanted was to upset you. I know you think I was trying to orchestrate something, but I swear I wasn’t.”
    “You’re telling me you have no sexual interest in her?” Mallory said, sitting up and turning on her light.
    “I don’t,” he said, sitting up, too. His hair was tousled, his