“Yeah, it was alright.” I stuffed the bills into my locker and walked over to my vanity.
“Alright? Looks like you did pretty well, as usual.” Her tone fell short, peering at me through her mirror.
This was a cut throat business, and when a newcomer, like myself, steals the show, most girls didn't care for it.
Rolling my eyes, I freshened up my mascara and changed outfits. It was time to walk the floor. This was where I made most of my money, but it was my least favorite.
The guys always got too handsy, and if you weren't up front with the rules, things could get messy. I hated how they all thought that we, dancers, were there for the taking.
I'm not a hooker. I'm a dancer.
Period.
That's why I preferred the stage. I was in control, no hands running up into places I didn't want them to go. You played with yourself, got their attention and their money, that was it.
If I had a dollar for every guy that thought I would suck his cock, I wouldn't have to work here anymore.
The way I figured it, right now I didn't have a choice; until my debt was paid, I was stuck.
Sliding into a tight red dress, I swapped out my heels for the clubs standard, clear spiked platforms. “Out on floor I go,” I said, tossing Fionna a quick smile.
Her lips pursed tight, a single brow arched. “Mm hm.” She huffed under her breath.
Standing at the feeble attempt for a door, I couldn't help but feel like I was walking into a seventies porn. They really need to do something about this. These beads are fucking ridiculous.
I thought it was bad enough the place was decked out with furry rugs under the tables, multicolored lights flickering in the empty spaces around the walls, and the scent of cheap cologne mixed with dirty man juice clinging to the air.
If Gloria would just put a little more money into the place, it'd bring in much better business.
The club was pretty packed tonight; making my way around a few booths, I strolled through the room, looking for a decent guy. I tried to stay clear from anyone who looked shady.
My definition of shady: Any man who is currently jerking off, or carrying a towel.
Those are the types I stayed away from; the thought of watching some old greasy man whack off in front of me made me cringe.
Scanning the crowd, I noticed a lone guy tucked off in the back corner. He was leaning back in his chair, hand rested on a glass of liquor, just watching his surroundings. His mouth was taut, hair slicked back with a single strand dangling in front of his eye.
Alright, let's give him a try. He looks innocent enough.
My heels clicked against the hard cement floor; smoothing the front of my dress, I brushed my hair over my shoulder. “Hi there, I'm Copper. You interested in a dance?”
“Does it look like I want a dance?” His deep voice sent chills through my body.
“Well, aren't you cranky. Maybe I can help loosen you up?” I ran a single finger over his shoulder as I circled behind him. “I promise you'll enjoy yourself.”
He was wearing a tight white t-shirt, muscles etched out beneath the fabric, ink sheathing one arm. A pair of jeans with a slight tear in the upper thigh covered his legs. He was certainly built hard. Squeezing his shoulders, I blew hot air over his lobe.
Clutching my wrist tight, he yanked me forcefully back around front. “Hey! No touching!” I yelled.
From the corner of my eye, the bouncer cocked his head up. Greg was great at his job. He always walked each one of us out to our cars at the end of the night and kept a watchful eye over us while we were on the floor.
Nodding to him that I was fine, his muscles relaxed and Greg leaned back against the wall.
“Sorry, Sweetheart. But I can't see you back there.” He brought the glass to his lips, twirling his finger in a circle.
“What?” I asked sternly, holding my arms out.
“Spin around for me. I'm not going to pay for what I haven't seen yet.” His hand fell down to his lap, hips shifting in the seat.
Really? Spin for him? I thought, as if I was some piece of jewelry he was going to adorn for the evening.
Lifting my hands to my hips, I spun, shaking my curves. A little treat for my evening boss; if he was going to pay. “Like what you see? I can be yours for a little while.”
“That depends. Can you keep your hands off me?” His lip curled up, teeth displayed, glistening under the lights.
“The rules are you don't touch me. But I can touch you, where ever and however I want.” My bright red lips pulled up, heart shaped and matching my dress.
I could see his eyes; they didn't look like the typical ones that imagined fucking me as I stood there. His were reading me, looking over my body and studying me.
Butterflies shot through my belly, my nerves sparked with electricity.
What the hell? Stop it, Noella! You can't get excited over a customer!