CHAPTER 22
CASSIE
I hate this. Stop thinking. The music pounds harder and I try to stop wondering about Jon. I don't want him to see me like this. The thought makes me want to cry, but I don't leave and I don't stop. Gretchen is working the floor, staring at me with envy. I'll make more money than her tonight, just for this one little show, so it has to be hotter than hell. The club will get tons of new clients, and that means more job security for me.
The spotlights help and I'm glad they're shining in my eyes, blinding me to the crowd. I can only see the guys who are right at the edge of the stage. Swaying my hips, I move methodically, trailing my fingers over my thighs. The dance is different for each woman who does it, and since I didn't know what I was doing, I made something up. The thing is, what I made up was for Jonathan, and now he's out there somewhere, watching me.
I gasp, moving slowly, forcing my curves to work for me—bending and feeling—running my hands over my flesh until I feel hot. I used to picture Jon, sitting there watching, like it was just us. It made the routine hotter because I felt it and I was into what I was doing. My mind was far away, lost in the past. Jon was the guy I wanted, and the one I'd never have.
Any second now, I'll be standing on stage topless, wearing a G-string, and heels. And now that I have the chance to actually dance for him, I'm terrified. It's not pretend anymore, it's a horrible mistake and I want to stop. But I can't. I'm trapped. There are too many bills, too many people that I owe money to for me to stop. I can't.
Lowering myself, I squat and slowly open my knees. Tilting my head back, I trail my fingers to the V between my legs and up my corset to my neck, finally slipping them into my mouth. I feel the men's lust filled eyes on me, and their desire. The room has grown quiet as they watch and want me.
I stand and stretch my hands over my head and when I look out, I can't see Jon. This is it. Reaching behind my back for the corset strings, I pull. The fabric loosens and I can breathe again, but there's not enough air. Not here, not now. My lips part as I feel the bodice slip slightly, and my fingers start to work on the front closure, unhooking it and revealing the soft skin beneath. I stare into the crowd, barely breathing, wishing to God that I was somewhere else.
Another hook pops open and the corset is ready to fall to the floor. It's held in place by a couple of hooks and nothing more. That's when a loud boom comes from the back of the room. Two men are standing, and someone throws a punch. All the guys turn and I freeze in place when I see who it is. The house lights come up slightly, enough to see Sean and Jon.
I can't hear them, but Jon storms out without looking my way.
That's when things get really weird. It takes a few minutes for things to settle back down. The houselights dim and the music gets cranked up louder. I shove every thought out of my head and try to finish my striptease. My hand unhooks one loop, and then another, so my hand is the only thing holding up the bodice. The corset is ready to slip off. All I have to do is remove my hand, but I hesitate. My stomach is in knots and I feel like I'm going to puke. I'm taking too long, I know I am. Covering my fear with a fake smile, I force my hand away. That's when a man rushes me. I feel hard abs slap against my skin, as my corset hits the floor. I shriek before I see who it is.
Jonathan.
I'm nearly naked and his body is pressed against mine, his arms around me, hiding my body. He looks into my face, breathing hard, and says, "I can't let you do this."
Bruce is swearing up a storm, shoving his way through the room to get to me, but the guys are blocking his path. They're cheering for Jon, acting like he does crazy shit like this all the time.
My heart pounds violently as I look into his face. "Jon, I have to."
"No you don't." He scoops me up into his arms, angling my body towards his, and spots Bruce.
"Put her the fuck down!" The man is beyond scary. There's death in Bruce's eyes as he plows through the crowd like a rabid bull.
Jon laughs like he planned this, and then sprints off with me in his arms. I cling, afraid that he'll drop me. Jon bursts through the side door and runs down a hallway, and then down another. He shoulders his way into a room and slams the door. His chest fills with air rapidly as he tries to catch his breath with me still in his arms. After a second he looks at me, but his gaze won't meet mine. He presses his eyes closed tight, like he knows he's messed up.
Every inch of me is trembling, and no matter how hard I try to make it stop, I can't. My body shivers in his arms. When his eyes open, he looks at me. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right. I was stalling. I couldn't..." my voice catches in my throat. I couldn't strip in front of him, but he's holding me in his arms and the only reason he can't see my breasts is because I'm turned into his chest with my arms around his neck. Tears sting in my eyes, so I look down and hide my face.
We're in a room that smells like leather and old books. Everything is richly colored browns and reds. There are a few seating areas with scattered sofas and tables. Heavy velvet drapes hang floor to ceiling, making the room feel warm and lush.
"You're cold." He sets me down, careful not to look, and grabs a blanket off the couch behind us. Heart thumping fast, I cover my chest with my hands. As Jon steps toward me, his eyes wander over my body and make me flush. He wraps the blanket around my shoulders, pausing for a second to look into my eyes. I think he's going to say something when his lips part, but he doesn't. Instead, his hands drop and he steps away.
"Thank you."
Jon nods for a moment and then laughs, but there's no joy in it. "Sean played me. Holy fuck, I'm a moron." His laughter turns genuine as he circles the room and then stops in front of me.
Bruce screams my name from somewhere down the hall. I don't answer him. "It's okay, you got me off the stage. There was no other way for me to back out. Thank you." Glancing at the carpet, I clutch the front of the blanket tighter.
"Why'd you do it?" My eyes drift up and meet his. For a moment, I think he's asking about the reporters all those years ago, but he's not. He's asking about tonight. "Why'd you take this job?"
"I had to." I don't elaborate. The lump in my throat is strangling me. I can barely breathe.
"What about your ideals? How can you do this if you actually believed what you told me before..." Before you turned on me. Before you sold me out... Those are the words he doesn't say, but I hear them all the same. Jon runs his hand through his hair.
Bruce's voice is growing louder. He'll find us any second.
I smile sadly at Jon. "I did believe what I told you. I was waiting for the right guy."
"And you found him?"
The way he stares at me makes the center of my chest ache. I don't want to say it, but I have to. I try to force my lips into a smile, but it looks like I'm going to cry. I nod, still watching his eyes. "Yeah, I found him."