Chapter Two
The man didn’t smile at me; he never did. The intensity of his gaze was enough to draw me in. Dark. Haunted. And a bit melancholy. But I wasn’t there to psychoanalyze him. I swayed my hips to the music and forced myself to whirl away from his hungry stare. I had every intention of thanking him for his gifts, but first he needed to see I wasn’t a ripe peach, fresh for the plucking.
I hoisted myself on the pole, hooking my ankles around the cool metal, and spun, holding on with one hand. Lights and colors flashed, and I could hear the clapping and whistles. When I landed on my feet and stood, arms raised, hips gyrating, I knew where the handsome stranger would be—his usual seat in the corner, back to the wall. James had already sent over a bottle of scotch, and he sat sipping from the glass.
Our eyes connected, and he quirked a dark brow but didn’t smile. Flirting wasn’t in our repertoire. From the start, our connection was different than any I had with my other customers. I was here to do my job—to make him happy so he would spend his money, which in turn made James happy. Still, as his eyes raked me over with a predatory gaze, I couldn’t help the thrill running through me, lighting me up inside. No one could deny it was a turn-on to be wanted like that.
Cort’s lasso draped over my shoulder, and I jumped. “What’re you doing?”
“Is that him?” His hips pumped, smile shining bright, but I heard the stone-cold tone of his voice. “The big guy in the corner? Jesus. He looks like he wants to eat you whole.”
At his words I shivered. “Yeah. He’s been a steady for months now. Nothing further than a few lap dances until last time, when he sent me the hundred-dollar jock and these imported oils. Expensive shit.”
“So now he thinks he can fuck you?” Cort’s sandy brows drew together as he held my waist and we bumped pelvises. “Like he bought you? I don’t like that shit.”
I had to bite back a grin at Cort’s protective growl. I’d never had a big brother, but Cort had appointed himself as my protector, and I loved him for it. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself. No one touches me unless I want him to.”
“Do you? Want him?”
Without answering, I spun away from Cort to shimmy up the pole and spin. Part of me wanted to walk up to Dark and Handsome, hand him back his jock, and let him know I wasn’t for sale. The other part, however, wasn’t in agreement with that line of thinking. My cock stiffened every time I even thought about those large hands of his touching my body, and I knew if he got me alone, I might give in and let him do what he wanted. And that scared the hell out of me.
Cort waited for me to finish my routine and took me by the shoulder. “Well? Don’t run away. Answer me.”
“I don’t know. But we’d better start working the crowd, or James is gonna get pissed.” I tipped my head toward the entrance, where a frowning James watched the two of us. “Let’s go make some money.” I gave him a kiss and danced away, swinging my hips.
“Come on!” I fist-pumped in the air, trying to work up the crowd. “Who’s here to get their freak on?” The music blared louder, and I deliberately turned my back on the man and cozied up to a table of hedge-fund guys I knew were big drinkers and bigger tippers. In less than three minutes, I had them ordering two bottles of Patron and was giving a lap dance to a blushing, sweet-faced guy, who’d confided to me that it was his birthday and his first time at a club “like this.”
“Then I’m going to make it extra special for you.” I bent over and gave him a kiss. His lips tasted minty and cool, and I smiled when he put a tentative hand on my neck to hold me closer. When we broke apart, his labored breathing and glazed eyes proved I’d done my job.
“How was that, birthday boy?” I ground down into his lap and wasn’t surprised to feel the nudge of an erection pushing against my thigh. I swiveled my hips, and he groaned out loud. His hands splayed against my back, holding me in place while I rode him.
“Look at Tony! He’s loving it.” One of the group poured out shots. “Tony! Tony!” They began to clap, and we all drank a toast to Tony, who blushed even harder. His arm circled my waist, and I let him stroke my stomach, but when he brushed the top of my shorts with his fingers, I shook my head and pulled away.
“That’s as far as it goes. Okay?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, I-I’m sorry. I thought…”
“That I’d let you touch my dick?” I stood up and fluffed my hair out. “Nope. Not you or anyone.” At his forlorn expression, I kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. You have a happy birthday.” I kissed him again and danced away to the next table, where I gave a lap dance to a man who was getting married that weekend. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, and I almost felt sorry for him at his obvious discomfort.
An hour into the night and I’d already had to empty my shorts four times from all the tips I’d stuffed in the waistband.
“Man, this crowd is on fire tonight.” Frankie bumped my hip with his as we stood at the bar. We handed our tips over to José, the bartender who held all our cash until the end of the night. “I’ve made more in an hour than I did all last weekend.”
“It’s crazy for sure.”
“Keep it up, you guys.” Back to pouring drinks, José gave us a thumbs-up. “The tequila is flowing like water tonight. Frankie, you’re up to four bottles, and Austin, you’re working it like a machine. You’ve got seven.”
“Dude, score.” Frankie gave me a high-five. “Your man is really coming through for you tonight.”
I accepted the margarita from José and drank half right away. The cold shock of it hit me and set my nerves buzzing. I waited for Frankie to down his shot before answering. “I haven’t even talked to him. I got lucky with some birthdays and bachelor parties.” Cort and Tristan were doing a number on the stage that had the crowd standing and clapping, and I craned my neck to watch.
“That explains why I saw him arguing with James.”
That caught my attention. “What? Why would that have anything to do with me?”
A heavyset man in a suit and lots of gold at his wrist lurched into Frankie. “Sorry.”
“I’m not.” Frankie fluttered his eyelashes at the man and put a hand on his chest. “Hi. I’m Frankie.”
“Uh, I’m Ed.” He licked his lips. “I saw you dancing before.”
“You did?” Frankie molded himself to the man, and I laughed into my glass as Ed’s gaze turned passion-drunk. “Did you like me? Want me to give you a private dance? Just the two of us?” He whispered in Ed’s ear and rubbed against him. Dude didn’t stand a chance.
At Ed’s nod, Frankie took him by the hand and walked away, no doubt taking him to one of the private rooms in the back for a little one-on-one time. He glanced over his shoulder and threw me a wink. I raised my glass to him.
“Later, José. Gotta go make some more money.” I downed the rest of my drink and shouldered my way through the crowd to get back on the stage. When I hopped up on the platform, my gaze instinctively went to the stranger’s table, but it sat vacant. Guess I didn’t have to worry about thanking him personally now. The tension drained from my body, yet I was left curiously empty. The music swelled, and I shook myself. I was here to dance and make money. The world would know I could live my life without anyone’s help. A frenetic energy invaded me, making me move faster and faster.
My hips gyrated, and I whipped my head from side to side, the ever-present smile on my face stretching my lips to the breaking point. Despite my proud words and the strong face I put on for my friends, I was scared. Scared of failing, of living on the street. I loved the guys here, but I wanted something else. A home. Security every night that someone cared. I didn’t like the groping, the touching, the treating me like a showpiece. Tyler would have understood; he’d felt the same way. Even when he was a go-go dancer for Marcus, he’d never lost sight of his dream. But I didn’t have a Marcus as a savior to whisk me away and fall in love.
I only wanted to be loved.
The song ended. Winded from the dancing, I needed to use the restroom. From what José said, I calculated I’d already made James a hefty profit and could afford a break for a moment. I descended the steps from the stage and got swallowed up by the crowd, allowing a few cuddles and picture-taking with the men I passed.
“Hey, sweetheart.” A heavy hand dropped on my shoulder. “Come gimme a dance at my table. Or better yet, let’s go to the back.” Without waiting for my response, he yanked me close and cupped my ass, thrusting his hard dick in between my thighs.
“Stop it.” I pulled away from him. Sweat dripped down his jowly face, and unknown stains decorated the front of his suit. How’d this pig get in here? James needed to have better control of his customers. “Get off me. I’m on a break.” I walked away toward the back of the club where the dressing rooms were. A quick piss and a minute to myself, and I’d shake this weird mood that had come over me. I turned the corner into the dim hallway.
“Aw, you want Daddy to make it rough? I can do that.”
The pig had followed me and pinned me up against the wall, holding me by the neck.
“Baby boy wants a spanking?” He flipped me over as if I weighed nothing and whacked me hard on the butt. I yelped, and a red rage descended over my eyes.
“Fuck you,” I spat out, then spun around and kneed him in the crotch. Hard. Satisfaction poured through me as he sank to the floor, moaning in pain. “Touch me or anyone else here, and I’ll make sure you’ll never walk again.” My legs shook, and my ass stung where he’d hit it, but I managed to walk past him with my head held high. It wasn’t until I reached the door to the dressing room that I realized I was crying. I pushed the door open and flung myself into a chair, huddling my legs to my chest for warmth.
The door opened, and I sat up quickly and wiped the wetness off my cheeks, unwilling to let anyone see me this emotional. But it wasn’t Frankie or Cort who came to see where I’d disappeared to.
It was him.
My handsome stranger. Here. Alone with me in the dressing room.
I lifted my chin. “I’m sorry, but customers aren’t allowed in here. You have to leave.”
Ignoring my statement, he closed the door behind him and stood, his face impassive, expression hard and fierce as if hacked out of granite.
“Did he hurt you?”
The softness of his voice surprised me. It didn’t reconcile with his large, imposing presence. Forgetting my previous statement, I gazed up at him from my seat, and not wishing to be at a disadvantage, stood.
“You saw what happened?”
“I did.” A twinkle lit his startling blue eyes. “You handled it perfectly.”
“Fucking asshole. He’s lucky I didn’t kick him harder.”
“The kitten has claws, I see.”
A smile curved his stern mouth, and he looked younger and impossibly attractive. A rush of desire hit me, but I couldn’t fall prey to it or him.
“I’m not a kitten, and if you think I need a protector, you can forget it. I can take care of myself.” I’d had to all my life.
“I don’t want to be your protector.” Fire replaced the smile in his eyes. “Did you like what I sent you?” He licked his lips. “Are you wearing it?”
I should have been scared. Being alone with him here could be dangerous, even though my instinct told me he’d never hurt me. But whether to listen to my body or my heart, I hadn’t yet decided. Wordlessly, I took several steps until I stood only a few feet in front of him. I peeled back the top of my shorts, exposing the frothy lace. The sparkling crystals caught the light. He reached out with a finger, then halted in midair.
“May I?”
My dick shifted in my thin shorts, and though it was impossible not to notice my rising desire, he waited for my response.
“No.”
Startled, he dropped his hand, and I waited, tense and nervous, my heart thundering, regretting my decision to get closer. Would he hit me? Hurt me? Who knew I was back here? He could do what he wanted to me and then be long gone. My mouth dried, sweat broke out under my armpits and ran down my neck. I took a step back.
He quirked a brow and shifted on his feet. “You’re right. You’re no kitten.” With another penetrating stare that lit my insides on fire, he turned and walked out the door.