She smirked and opened the wallet then peered over her shoulder quickly to make sure no striking gray eyes stared her down. All clear, she rifled through and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. Normally she might feel guilty about something like this, but not now; not after that fight with him this morning. God, it hurt so bad to know he’d gone behind her back like that. She didn’t even want to think about it, because every time she did, she pictured her fist connecting with his jaw. That was a half-truth. She really didn’t want to think about it because every time she did, her chest squeezed like a force pushed at it and her eyes got all wet. Fuck that and fuck him. She didn’t need him.

After she’d stormed away, Vanessa had quickly realized that she didn’t have as much time as she’d originally thought to carry out her dreams. Not with Joseph now having some idea where she was. So first thing, she went through her mental list of wants. First, she wanted to go clubbing. She’d love more than anything to have a group of girlfriends to go with her, to laugh and drink with while dancing their asses off, but she had none of that. So instead, she’d put on the sexy little black dress she’d bought with a pair of black heels and dabbed on some mascara and lip gloss. She’d scrunched up her hair so it looked wild and sexy like bed-head. The soft rustling fabric of the dress clung just so against her bare skin, and she had a lot of it. A stringy thong was all she wore under the dress and the low-cut front certainly didn’t leave room for a bra, not that she really needed one with her barely-there breasts.

Second, she wanted to have awesome, jaw-dropping, scream-from-the-top-of-your lungs sex with a hot man. If luck sided with her tonight, she might be able to cross out number one and number two at once. Three, she wanted to enroll in college. And four—this goal she’d really thought long and hard on—she wanted to taunt Brayden. She glanced at his driver’s license and smirked. Make that Brayden Erickson. She wanted him to drool after her, to get so hot for her that he’d do anything to touch her, then she'd turn him down. She’d take his ‘Get off me, Vanessa’ and shove an ‘Oh, no thanks, Brayden’ right in his face after he panted for her. It was a petty goal, but one she looked forward to. It’s the least she could do with the fact that he’d telephoned her ‘mate’ without asking her. Not that she would have agreed to it anyway.

A sound reached her ears and she tensed, her breath freezing in her lungs so she could use all her senses to listen. The sound was of a footstep on the wood floor, the slight compression of wood from having weight pressed upon it. Wide-eyed, her gaze darted to the top of the stairs and she stayed frozen. If he came out of his bedroom and looked down over the stairwell, he wouldn’t see her. Another groan from the floor came and she tiptoed into the dining room on the right, flattening against the wall closest to the stairs so he wouldn’t see her. She stayed that way, her heart beating frantically hard, so hard she had trouble hearing over it. She breathed in quietly through her nose until her heartbeat settled, then she heard a door open and close upstairs. The breath she’d been holding blew out in a whoosh.

She kept her eyes trained on top of the stairs as she strained on the edge of her toes to the front door. God, she hadn’t felt this kind of excitement in a long time—that she might get caught. And get caught by the gorgeous Brayden. Her body grew hot at the thought, but she sighed with disappointment. It wouldn’t be worth the trouble. The man didn’t have a passionate bone in his body. Okay maybe a little one—she’d been on the other side of his kiss, if only for a moment. It had made her feel weak, breathless, and hot all at the same time. She wanted more of that; and tonight, she was going to get it. Just not from Brayden Erickson.

She flipped the deadlock and winced as the metal mechanism sounded like a mini-explosion in the deathly quiet house. The lock of the door handle proved much softer, nearly silent as she turned it. Before she left the house, she sent one last look up the stairs, somehow wanting, hoping, and hating for him to be standing there ready to stop her and be the one she’d escape into a world of pleasure with. No one stood up there though, only the shadows moving from the moon casting off the trees outback and splaying through the window.

She turned and quietly closed the door. The blue car was parked next to his SUV in the garage port. She ran across the yard, a goofy grin on her face as her pulse pounded with fear and excitement. Upon closer inspection, she realized this wasn’t any car. It was a Mercedes-Benz. It looked sharp, sleek, and more than a little badass.

Her eyes flicked up to the windows of the house, but no face loomed so she unlocked the car door, got in, took a deep breath, then started the car. The inside of the car was way too nice. Leather seats, a touch screen GPS system; all the gadgets on the dashboard were black and shiny and even the wheel looked fancy with its two-toned colors. Black at the top and bottom and the same cream color on the sides to match the leather seats.

She didn’t have time to sit and ogle the car so she moved fast, backing up, then shoving the car into drive and pulling away from the house. It was no use going slow. If he heard anything, he might have heard the roar of the engine starting, which the confines of the detached garage seemed to amplify all too well.

She peeled off across his circular driveway, rolling down her windows so the cool air whipped her hair across her shoulders and neck like a teasing caress. Then she flicked on the radio, choosing a station playing pumping hard beats and cranked the baby up. She headed to the club and howled out the window into the night.

She headed into downtown feeling alive, beautiful, and confidant, like she could rule the world; nothing could stop her. The cool breeze chilled her cheeks; the techno pounding beats of the song blaring blocked out everything else around her until was just her and her grin. She pulled into the parking lot across from the club she’d eyed when she’d first gotten into town, haggard and looking for a job. She’d seen it and knew she had to try it at least once.

She took a parking ticket from the little meter box and the bar blocking her lifted swiftly. Ten dollar parking, per hour, cash only, read the sign. Ouch; but, oh well. Tonight would be worth the dip into her little bit of money.

She parked, grabbed the small purse she’d bought at the mall and zipped across the street to Vision Nightclub. A line of glammed up gals and guys waited outside between red movie theater partitions. Vanessa had her first wave of doubt as she eyed that line. The line meant she wasn’t getting in. The line didn’t move, which also meant the club was probably full and most likely, only a handful more people might get in before closing.

Still, she crossed to the sidewalk and headed down toward the entrance. People glanced her way, some girls giving her dirty looks as if to say ‘if we can’t get in, you can’t either!’ They were probably right, too. She kept her chin held high and walked up to two tall, broad-chested men who looked like they spent a lot of time in the gym.

She put on her best smile. “What’s it take to dance in this place?”

The bouncer didn’t look fazed by her smile. “Fifty dollar cover fee and a wait in line.”

“Damn,” she muttered.

The bouncer next to him elbowed his buddy. “Let her in.”

Bouncer number one looked at number two in disbelief. “Why the hell should I?”

Bouncer number two winked at her. “Beautiful women are always welcome in the club.”

She didn’t want to blush, but it happened anyway. “We got a line of hot babes, Carl,” replied bouncer one.

“None without a fake tan and a shit-ton of makeup. Just let her in.”