“Easy, I’m not your standard fucking club owner. I work this club for a friend.”
“Okay. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
After a few seconds he let her go. Heading back around to the changing rooms she sat in the toilet, heaving up the food she’d eaten. Fuck, she couldn’t handle this lifestyle.
“I can’t believe they’re here. I’ve been waiting for them to get back into town. It has been over two years, and wow, Devil is still as hot as I remembered,” Tiffany said, no longer sounding high.
Lifting her legs off the floor, Lexie tried to ignore them. She didn’t want anyone to know she was in the toilet.
Diana was with her, giggling. “I love Death. His name is scary, but he fucks better than Pussy.”
Covering her ears, Lexie didn’t want to hear anything. There was no mistaking what they were doing when she heard them inhale deeply. Glancing through the small slit in the door, in the mirror she saw both girls snorting coke. If Vincent was to find them, he’d hurt them real bad. He didn’t like drugs in his strip club.
“God, I can’t wait to suck cock. I tell you, I hate those fuckers drooling over me for a couple of bucks, but Devil, he knows how to treat me,” Tiffany said, rubbing her nose. “That’s good. It’ll keep me going for a while.”
“Come on, let’s get out there.”
Within minutes they were gone taking their giggling with them.
Lexie stayed in the toilet, wiping away her tears.
I’m doing this for Simon. I’m doing this for Simon.
In that moment, Lexie really hated her sister and her entire upbringing. Their mother had been more interested in the bottle and men than in her daughters. Lexie had gotten through school with good grades but not enough to win any kind of scholarship. Kayla dropped out of school, and by the time Lexie left at eighteen she was already working every hour she could.
“Lex, honey, you in here?” Jenny asked.
Opening the stall she stared at her friend who carried the cheap makeup bag.
“You’re on in twenty. We need to fix you up.”
Standing still she let Jenny do her makeup restoring back her night face for the men.
“I heard Tiffany and Diane talking about some group that entered.”
Jenny tensed. “They’ve taken over the whole club, kicking everyone out. When Chaos Bleeds come in, then no one else is allowed around.”
“Chaos Bleeds? Is it some kind of rock group?”
“No, I wish. They’re a motorcycle club. Tough men with no rules, and every now and then they come to town. Devil is the leader,” Jenny said.
“I don’t like the sound of this group.”
“Take my advice, do your set, get your money and fucking leave. You do not want to get embroiled with these men. They’re dangerous, and they carry.”
Lexie nodded. “I’m not interested in getting anything.”
Vincent appeared in the doorway. “Come on. Get your ass up on the stage.”
“I’m going.” She looked at Jenny, who looked at her.
“You’re good. Go and kick ass. I wish I had your tits. So fucking big.” Jenny grabbed her own making Lexie laugh.
She knew Jenny was just putting her at ease. “I’ll see you after, right?”
“Yes, hubby is coming to get me in an hour, and then I’m off.”
“This is your last set for tonight, Lex. You can leave when you’re done,” Vincent said, leaving the bathroom.
“I’ll wait for you before I leave.”
“Appreciate it. Go on, knock them dead.”
Heading out of the toilet she walked down to the back of the stage as the lights were turned off over the seating area. The only light would be on her.
In the mirror she checked her blonde wig making sure not a strand of her brown hair showed.
You can do this. Simply dance, imagine your suit man.
The music started, and it was one of her favorites. Wrapping her arms around the pole she waited for the light to appear on her, and then she started to work the pole how Jenny had shown her.
****
Devil, leader of the Chaos Bleeds MC and an irritated man, swallowed back a shot of the whiskey. Business had been booming at Naked Fantasies since he’d last come to town. Wiping a hand down his face, he felt fucking tired. He was getting too old to be chasing shit around town. At forty-five years old he knew it was time for him to settle down rather than have to deal with riding from place to place. His men were getting tired of the same old shit, and he was starting to want a nice warm bed to sleep in at night. He refused to believe it was down to his aging years.
For the last twenty years he’d done nothing but ride. His group had the same need in their blood to be free and not controlled by the social convention. If he wanted to fuck three women, one after the other, then he fucking did it. He transported drugs and drank until he vomited. There was no such thing as a happy hour to him. Every hour was fucking happy hour. If he wanted a drink at ten in the morning, he’d have a drink.