CHAPTER SEVEN

The next day would be Chloe’s first day “on” as Derek Stark’s private dancer. She and Lexi got to the club a half hour before he was supposed to make his appearance. Lexi went behind the bar and began her shift and Chloe went into the back, hoping that the other girls were already changed and onstage so that she could have some privacy.

“Hi, Chloe,” Gretchen, a pert and bouncy red-head greeted her as soon as she walked into the dressing room.

She wasn’t going to get lucky today.

“Hi, Gretchen. How are you?”

“Oh, you know same old.” She was trying to stuff her gigantic boobs into a bra that looked two sizes too small as she was talking to Chloe. Her puffy brown nipples protruded over the top, and every time she tried to clasp it in the front, it would pop right back open.

“Damn this thing!”

Chloe tried to slip into her corner before Gretchen decided to ask her for help, but she was too late. “Chloe honey, help! Please.”

With a sigh, Chloe hoped she didn’t really notice she went over to where the other girl was standing in front of the mirror. She knew she would only have the torture device on for a matter of minutes once she was onstage, but Chloe had her doubts as to whether or not she’d even ever agreed to wear it in the first place. It was made of black lace, and the area where her nipples were supposed to sit was cut out in a circle and studded with rhinestones. It was the most ridiculous piece of lingerie she had ever seen.

“What do you want me to do?” Chloe asked her.

“I’ll pull on the elastic from the sides, and you see if you can clasp it for me.” She had her head bent forward towards her, and her long, curly red hair tickled Chloe’s face as she struggled to snap the bra with her fingers while pressing down on her giant wiggly boobs with the sides of her palms. If anyone got a video of this, it would be either a pervert or a lesbian’s wet dream. Since Chloe was neither, the whole thing made her ridiculously uncomfortable.

“There you go, Chloe! You got it girl, thanks!”

“No problem,” she lied. She proceeded to her locker and took out the ‘Peek a Boo’ pole fit top and ‘Sneaky V’ pole fit shorts she had bought last week and hadn’t worn yet. She had a little black-netted kami that would drape over the top so that her sides were not bare. It was black and slinky, and it fit like a tailored glove across her boobs, and butt…but nothing had to be stuffed into it, thank God. She glanced over her shoulder. Gretchen was gone. Chloe could hear the set that was playing when she came in still playing outside. That meant she had about ten minutes to change before those girls came off stage and filed in to the dressing room.

She slipped off her blouse and then the kami she had underneath. She left her bra on and slipped off her pants next. She was always nervous when she changed in the dressing room. There were no private dressing areas, so it was pure luck that not many people had caught her naked so far. The scars across her back were plentiful and could have even passed for those of someone who had been publicly flogged.

She had been flogged all right, more times than she cared to remember. By the only two men in her life that were supposed to protect her. Jesse was always really good at keeping the scars and bruises where no one would see them underneath her clothes. He used to like telling her that if she was ever stupid enough to try and cheat on him, any other man would be sickened by the sight of her without her clothes on. That didn’t matter now. She couldn’t even imagine the day when that would happen again.

The scar that ran itself from the top of her breast down her side, along her ribcage was the last one he had given her. It was the last one any man would ever give her. It was the one that she let her fingers play across sometimes to remind herself how far she had come since that night. She was lost in her thoughts and slipping into her shorts when she suddenly heard voices. She tried grasping for her blouse before they got close enough to see her, but it was too late. Two of the girls had walked into the dressing room and stopped dead in their tracks.

“Oh my God, Chloe! What the fuck happened to your back?” Delilah, who had just turned old enough to dance in the club and still had some of her baby fat, wanted to know.

“Jeez girl, if your man did that, you need to get his ass charged.” That was Margo, an African-American beauty who refused to tell anyone how old she was and nobody could tell. She looked about twenty-seven, but she had been dancing already for ten years.

Chloe took a deep breath and turned to face them, buttoning the shirt she said, “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

Margo gave her a ‘fuck-you’ then look, but Delilah wasn’t mature enough to realize when to keep her mouth shut just yet. “I wondered why you didn’t strip. I thought it was a moral thing or something. Chloe, if someone is hurting you, we should tell Roxi. She can help you. She kicked my tweaker ex-boyfriend out of the parking lot last week without even taking the bouncers out with her.”

Chloe knew that this kid had no idea the kind of memories that even thinking about the scars brought up, much less talking about them. That didn’t serve to make her any less pissed off however as she said, “Listen, Delilah. I asked you once to mind your own fucking business, okay? I’m not going to ask nicely again.”

Margo looked over at her and said, “Why are you being such a bitch? The girl was trying to be nice.”

“What’s going on?” Roxi walked in to the room, and as she did, she looked her up and down. “Chloe, aren’t you on in five minutes?”

“Yeah, I was trying to get ready.”

“Then she had to stop so that she could act like a bitch,” Margo said.

“Roxi, Chloe has terrible scars on her back like someone’s been cutting her,” Delilah the rat said.

Chloe glared at her as Roxi said, “You two go get something to drink and mind your own damn business.”

When they had scurried out, Roxi looked at Chloe and said, “One of these days, you’ll have to talk about it to someone. When you’re ready, you know where to find me. Now get your ass dressed and get out there. I just saw Derek Stark walk in.”

“Okay, thanks.” She left, and Chloe hurriedly finished dressing. She glanced in the mirror long enough to fluff her long brown hair and reapply her lipstick. She slipped on her “hooker-heels” on her way out the door.

As she passed Lexi at the bar, her friend winked at her. Chloe heard Lexi’s words reverberate in her head, “Don’t over-think it.” She made her way past Mike and said, “Track 5 again, Mike.” He grinned and gave her a finger to finger touch. She saw Jake near the outside of the curtain as she slipped inside.

Derek Stark was sitting in his chair. Tonight he wore a black button-down shirt that was undone slightly at the neck. Chloe could see just the top of what looked like a toned and tanned chest. His jeans were black, and he had on black brushed leather boots. The whole look was way too appealing to her. She wished he wore one of those three piece business suits with the shiny shoes. Those things at least left a lot to the imagination.

The music came on, and as she draped her long leg around the pole she chanted in her head like a mantra, “Don’t make eye contact…don’t make eye contact…” She swung around with her head tipped back and before she knew it those ice blue eyes were locked onto hers. His full lips looked like they were playing with a smile but they hadn’t given it the okay just yet. Dancing was usually easy for her, like second nature now but those eyes completely distracted her, and she had to actually count the beats out in her head to find her place.

Derek sat there this time until the music stopped. He still wasn’t touching himself which compared to the other guys she did private dances for, made him a saint. He was still staring at her though, and that gaze was just so unnerving, almost haunting. She finally cleared her throat and said, “Are you ready for me to begin another song?”

“I was wondering if I could ask you for something else instead.” His voice was deep, and the words rolled off his tongue with ease.

Shit! I knew it, she thought. Adonis or not, he was a pervert like the rest of them.

“You can ask,” she said, knowing that her tone was probably diminishing her tip as she spoke, “But I can pretty much assure you if it’s not dancing on this pole, that it’s not going to happen.”

The smile won the battle with his lips then and splayed out across his gorgeous face. His teeth were so white that she almost couldn’t look directly at them.

“I like a woman who sticks to her convictions,” he said. “I wasn’t going to ask you for anything…that might compromise your values or our arrangement, Chloe.” The sound of her name on his lips gave her a chill down her spine. “I was just going to ask you to have a drink with me and talk. You can sit an arm’s length away.”

“I don’t drink at work,” she told him. That was the truth. She wasn’t going to do anything that would alter her thought processes where so many horny men were involved.

“Then just lemon water. Isn’t that what you drink between sets?” He asked arching an eyebrow.

She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be flattered that he knew what she drank between sets or not, but she wasn’t. It kind of gave her the creeps that he knew that.

“I’m not really thirsty yet,” she said. “Look, I don’t want to be rude to you. I know you’re paying a lot of money to watch me dance. But that’s really all I do here…is dance. I was hoping that Roxi went over that with you.”

“She did,” he said. “I would just like to know more about you than the fact that you’re beautiful and you can dance like an angel when you’re really into it. Maybe you would agree to dinner or even lunch sometime?”

“No, thank you. Would you like me to dance again?” He looked like he was trying to control his amused expression as he said, “Yes, Chloe. Thank you.”

She yelled the next track out to Mike and then she tried to get back into the mode.

Unfortunately, all she could see were those beautiful eyes surrounded by the longest lashes she had ever seen on a man and all she could hear was how sexy her name, ‘Chloe’ sounded rolling off his lips.