Chapter 4

Addison

When the tacky techno Christmas music started blaring, I knew we were in for a show and held back my annoyance. Strippers of any sort had always seemed to lack class to me, and the man gyrating toward us was no exception.

Still, I had to admit to myself that he was a sexy motherfucker. His body was the hottest I'd seen, all muscles and tanned skin. His moves weren't too bad either, and it seemed like he had a natural grace that most in his profession were lacking. But he was still a hot male who knew how much females wanted him, and that meant he only cared about himself.

It wasn't like I'd come across a ton of male strippers in my day, but in the last couple years, several of my friends had decided to take the marital plunge, and for some reason beyond me, male entertainment was becoming ubiquitous at bachelorette parties. These dancers liked to strut their stuff around a ring of hungry females, gladly accepting their dollar bills, but in the real world, guys that looked like him never got into serious relationships.

After I'd finished school and had waded into the world of competing for attention from the city's elite dance companies, I'd wanted to find someone to share my hopes and fears with. In a city full of men, you'd think finding one who wanted something more meaningful than a quick fuck would be easy.

You'd be wrong.

I was tired of single life, tired of dating in the modern age where guys would promise anything but were constantly looking for the next conquest in a never-ending line of pictures on whatever dating app they favored. Although I'd thrown myself into my training, I was like any other red-blooded female who craved excitement and intimacy.

I'd quickly found that excitement was overrated. Guys who promised to text the next day never did. So I stuck to practicing, becoming the best dancer I could be, and giving up guys who looked like sexy Santa Claus here.

He was giving it all he had, even flashing a glimpse of his package at me. I swallowed hard. It was attractive, to say the least. It gave me wild thoughts of what I could do to make it even bigger and harder, but I pushed those thoughts away, barely restraining myself from pushing the dancer away with them.

Instead, I glared at him, hoping he'd get the point. I wasn't going to fall for another sleazy guy who looked like an angel but behaved more like lame ass devil who was hot enough to light a fire between the sheets but wasn't interested in a heaven that lasted longer than twenty minutes of sweat and grunting.

When he finally moved on, I thought I was off the hook, but it turns out I was wrong. Over the next hour, I realized something more sinister was afoot than I'd thought. The stripper kept returning to me, trying to capture my attention, so much so that the bride, who was practically begging for it, was almost ignored.

He brought me a drink, which I did nothing more than sip from once and put down, and tried to rub my shoulders while rubbing his body against my back in a way that had me wanting more while simultaneously silently cursing him. But when he brought me over a huge piece of cake and tried to feed it to me, I caught on to the game.

Lacie and Katherine were across from me, whispering behind their hands and egging the stripper on, giggling all the while. Then it dawned on me. They'd put him up to this. The stripper wasn't all over me because he was into me. He was being paid by Lacie and Katherine to sabotage me.

The rules of the company were clear. Refrain from alcohol and refined sugars. No getting drunk and making a fool of yourself in public. Sure, the other girls were busy ignoring those rules right now, but I was the prima ballerina. I couldn't afford to flaunt the rules in front of others, not when there were plenty of mouths eager to whisper into Drew's ear about my bad behavior.

It was lonely at the top, especially when everyone else wanted to take your place and wouldn't blink twice to stab you in the back to get it. I gave my congratulations to the bride just as the stripper was performing his grand finale, fully nude except for the beard. She barely heard me, nodding while her eyes were glued to the stunning male. I kept my gaze averted, not wanting to get distracted by his perfect body.

Then I walked out, cake uneaten and alcohol all but untouched. I was already considering walking a few extra blocks to the next subway station in order to burn the calories of the frosting that might have touched my lips when I walked out of the club and onto the cold city street.

Before I could get past the end of the building, a familiar face confronted me. What the hell was Drew doing here?

"About time you left that den of iniquity," he growled. "I can't even believe you came out the night before your debut lead performance. You must be some kind of stupid, all right."

The director's face was sour, his beady eyes boring into mine. Drew Dannon was a successful company producer and director. In his forties, he had some pull in the dance world, one that he could either use for or against you. That made him someone I had to keep happy, if I wanted to keep working.

"I'm sorry, Drew. I was invited to Marie's bachelorette party tonight, and the rest of the cast were going, so I didn't want to seem rude. I--"

"I don't give a fuck what the rest of those lazy bitches do," he said, grabbing me by the wrist to pull me toward the alley. "They're not the prima ballerina, are they? Although, if you keep acting like this, one of them might be real soon."

He hemmed me in at the mouth of the alley, positioning me between the wall and the garbage cans so I couldn't move in either direction. I was forced to listen to his lecture.

"Yesterday at lunch was ridiculous enough," he said, and I saw little pieces of spittle flying from his lips. "Two fucking glasses of wine and french fries? Fucking french fries, Addison?"

I hung my head. Yeah, I'd fucked up, but I'd worked out double time last night to make up for it. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Oh, it won't? Was it you I just saw in there letting a man ply you with drinks and grind cake into your face? And it wasn't the only thing he was grinding on you."

My eyes widened. Was he being serious? "I didn't eat the cake, and I only took a sip of the drink to be polite. And that guy was a male stripper. He was grinding on everyone."

"You seem to be obsessed with what everyone else is doing," he snarled, getting closer. "You forget that you're the special one." His hands were on my shoulders now, making me feel all kinds of uncomfortable. "At least, until I say you're not special."

"Drew," I said, trying to pull away but failing. "I swear it was nothing. I'm going home now to prep for tomorrow. I promise I won't let you down."

"You promise, huh?" He was so close, I could see the yellow of his teeth in the street lights. His broad nose and dark eyes gave him a feral look, like an animal cornering its next meal. But there was no way in hell I was going to be Drew's victim.

"Let me go," I said. "I'll rehearse for the next three hours. Just let me go home."

"You know, all of those little bitches want your part. But I chose you. And yet, you continue to disappoint me."

His breath was hot on my face, and my skin started to crawl. He continued. "I had no idea what a dirty little slut you were until I saw you with that stripper, letting him rub himself all over you, liking it, wanting more."

I felt caged in, trapped, afraid. Drew's body was touching mine now and I hated it. He was tall and thin, not at all what I looked for in a man, and way too old for me. But it looked as if the attention he paid me was moving beyond the director's typical control over his lead. This wasn't about me eating right and training hard enough. This was something much worse.

"You're going to have to work extra hard to get back in my good graces," he whispered into my ear. I felt his lips there, and they made me shudder.

"Stop," I said, starting to struggle. I wanted the lead part and would give almost anything to claim it, but not this. I wasn't about to start whoring myself out for my place in the production. Not to Drew. Not to anybody.

"Looks like you don't want the part bad enough," he said, not letting go. "I thought you would do anything to get it and keep it."

"No!"