Sinful Desires Vol. 1(6)

I shook my head, unable to believe it. They didn't even make us get completely naked. How could that mesh with forcing women into being sex slaves?

She shrugged. “We got a couple spots open if you want a job.”

“Thanks, Rosa, but I'll be fine.” Even as I said the words, I wasn't sure they were true. The knot in my stomach said what my brain didn't want to recognize that soon I'd have to take her up on her offer. I cringed, hoping it would never come to that.



*****



Six days, twenty-seven applications and no calls later, I was forced to admit that Rosa's offer was the best I was going to get. Girls willing to take off their clothes were a dime a dozen in Vegas and while I may have had better dancing skills, the clubs were more interested in tits and ass. Desperation finally overcame what little pride I had left and I went in for an interview. With Rosa vouching for me, I got the job and was able to start right away.

If someone had told me I'd miss The Twilight Room, I would've laughed at them, but The Diamond Club made my previous place of employment seem like a dream job. My first indication was the so-called interview where the manager told me to strip down in the middle of the club. Granted, there'd only been a cleaning crew there at the time, but it was still awkward, and it had gotten worse while he'd circled me, not touching but close enough to have made me even more uncomfortable than I'd already been.

I wasn't ashamed of my body, but being treated like a piece of meat wasn't something I enjoyed. I did my work at the club, taking off everything but a tiny g-string that could barely count as covering. We wore those during the shows, but I knew most girls stripped to nothing in the back room or during a private party. It was the unspoken rule that as long as the club got its percentage, it was up to the girls to decide how far they were willing to go. Rosa did the parties as often as she could and I never asked what she did to earn the tips.

Still, I declined the invitations for private performances and kept putting in applications wherever I could. The problem was, legit places looking for employees would always ask where I'd been working since coming to Vegas as my employment history clearly had a gap. As soon as I'd tell them The Twilight Room, I could see the interview was at an end. The places where I'd filled in my full history didn't even bother to call.

Still, I was managing to find a sort of rhythm with the work and that made blocking out the clients and wearing a smiling face much easier. It was harder when I was home, lying in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering what my life would've been like if I'd stayed in Philadelphia. It was then that the memories would come back. Sometimes it was my mom, other times Anastascia, but most often it was Reed and our night together. I knew it was stupid, but I clung to that memory, playing it over and over again.

I was dreaming about him when a noise woke me, raised voices coming from the other room. It took me a couple disorienting seconds to register that it was Rosa arguing with someone. A man. I sat up. It sounded like our landlord, Mr. Fenton. I climbed out of bed and threw on a t-shirt, heading for the living room.

“Like hell we will!” Rosa was yelling.

“What's going on?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as polite as I could.

“Fenton's saying we have to give him fifteen hundred dollars by the end of the week,” Rosa answered.

“For what?”

“Fixing some electrical problem.” Her dark eyes were flashing.

“According to my electrician, the issue was caused by improper usage,” Mr. Fenton said. “And since there's no way to tell where the problem started, each tenant will be providing me with compensation.”

I wondered what slick-ass lawyer had written that for him. Not that it mattered. Rosa and I would have to pay or Fenton would find some excuse to kick us out. He'd done it to Tyler and Mickey down the hall when they wouldn't sleep with him. Fortunately for Rosa and me, Fenton was strictly into dick. He might shake us down for money, but he'd never ask us to fuck him.

“You have until the end of the week.” He stormed off before either of us could argue more with him.

“Well, we're fucked,” I said without looking at Rosa.

“Maybe,” she said slowly.

Now I did turn toward her. “What'd you mean, maybe?”

“Godfrey got a call about a private party Friday night, a bachelor party. Guaranteed two thousand dollars, with the possibility of extra.”

I didn't need her to explain what the extra included.

“That's great,” I said. “I'll see if I can pick up an extra shift or two to help pay for my half.”

“I couldn't take the job.”

“Why not?”

“They asked for two girls and everyone else was busy Friday night.” She gave me a pointed look and I immediately knew what she was not-so-subtly hinting at.

I thought about what she wanted me to do, and about the zeros in my checking account. I thought about Mr. Fenton and how he wouldn't hesitate to kick us out. My only other option would be to ask Anastascia for the money. I knew my friend would have it and she wouldn't even hesitate to help me out. I also knew I couldn't ask for her assistance. I was out of choices.

I nodded. “All right,” I heard myself say. “I'll do it.”





Chapter 6

Rosa assured me that my usual work outfit would be fine for the private party in Astoria’s fancy penthouse suite. The guys hadn't requested any sort of specific costume. That, at least, was good. I couldn't imagine what I'd do if they'd wanted me to be some kind of biker chick or naughty nurse.

A handsome guy with sandy-colored hair answered the door to the penthouse suite. He gave us each a quick once over and I could see that he was wondering why we weren't wearing something slutty.

“You got a bedroom where we can change?” Rosa asked.

“This way.” The man gestured for us to follow him.

As we walked through the enormous suite, I heard laughter coming from the main sitting area, but we didn't go that way, instead heading for another hallway that kept us from getting a glimpse of the men we'd be entertaining. That was fine with me. I didn't particularly want to see them yet anyway.

The guy left us alone to get ready. While we took off our street clothes and changed into our costumes from work, Rosa explained how things were going to go. We'd do a shortened number of the club's opening routine, both of us wearing our masks, and then I'd step back to let her do hers. Once she was finished, it'd be my turn.

“The thing you have to remember,” she said as she adjusted her breasts. “Is that while you're here to entertain everyone, the opening dances are for the groom. We do our routines and focus on him. Once we're done, we take a couple minutes, then head back out to dance. Not routines, but actually dance with the guys. Depending on how friendly you get, that's when the tips start flowing.”

I nodded and tried to pretend I wasn't nervous as hell. Someone knocked on the door and a man's voice asked if we were ready. Rosa opened the door to the same sandy-haired guy who'd let us into the suite and we followed him back down the hallway and into the main sitting room. It was huge, with glass walls along the far side, high ceilings and carpet so thick it was going to make dancing in heels dangerous.

I didn't have much time for details though as the music was starting, which was our cue to move. The first dance went smoothly, though I was concentrating more on not falling than I was on paying attention to the men cat-calling, and then I stepped back to let Rosa take center stage. I watched her as she zeroed in. I followed her gaze.

A handsome man with unruly dark curls was laughing and leering, clapping another man on the shoulder; a man who Rosa was clearly focusing on. That, I decided, must be the groom. I shifted as Rosa moved and saw the groom's face for the first time.

My heart almost stopped.

Reed.

What the fuck?

It had been less than a month since he and I had slept together, and now he was getting married?

My hand went to the mask on my face. The opening dance had all of the girls in disguises and the first thing we did when we went on for our individual sets was to toss the mask aside, letting the men see our faces for the first time. Did that mean he hadn't yet recognized me or had he found out my secret and called The Diamond Club on purpose? Even as I thought it, I realized it was ridiculous. The groom didn't plan his own bachelor party. This was just some very bizarre coincidence. One that was about to get even more awkward.

Before I was ready, Rosa's music ended and it was my turn. I knew I had a choice to make. I could either walk out and probably lose my job or I could do what I came here to do and damn the repercussions. I lifted my chin. I hadn't done anything wrong. Either Reed had met, dated and proposed to someone in a very short period of time or he'd fucked me when he'd been engaged. I hadn't known. I had nothing to be ashamed of.

I walked toward the center of the room, facing the couch, and pulled off my mask, tossing it aside.

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, but I didn't acknowledge him. Instead, I did what I'd been paid to do, although I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact. When I finished, I flashed a fake smile at the whistling and cheering men, then grabbed my shirt from the floor and put it back on. The rest of our dancing could be done half-clothed, as long as we were showing more flesh than we were hiding and we were willing to take the clothes off again. I buttoned the middle two buttons as Rosa told the men she and I were going to take a couple minutes to freshen up. She promised them we'd be back.