The Infamous Ellen James(71)

"Aw, don't get all emotional on me now, drunky. And no, Trent paid Ed the driver an obscene amount of cash to step off the bus while we 'got our fuck on.'" I emphasize her direct quote with the universal air-quote gesture.

"I'm surprised you two didn't screw right here while Candy was showing us her pole skills."

"Sorry to disappoint. I know you have a voyeurism fetish, but we decided to avoid being arrested for public indecency."

"Not to sound like a sappy idiot, but Elle, I'm so happy to see you so happy," Amy says before jumping out of her chair and practically suffocating me with a tight hug. During her public display of affection for me, she also happened to spill her entire glass of vodka and cranberry all over my white tank top.

"Shit! Sorry, Ellie Belly!" Amy is giggling uncontrollably, and I just look back at her with an annoyed stare.

"Where's the bathroom, idiot?"

"It's in the back near the strippers' dressing room," she says as she points towards the back of the club.

I head to the bathroom only to find out it's not near the strippers' dressing room; it's actually in the strippers' dressing room. I make my way toward one of the wall-length mirrors and see that my white tank top is covered in pink cranberry stains. Fuck, there is no way to remedy this situation.

"Uh oh. Looks like someone needs a new shirt." I glance up to see Candy, the stripper from earlier in the night, standing behind me.

"Yeah. My friend Amy got a little hug crazy and ended up spilling her entire drink on my shirt."

“Here, let me give you a shirt." Candy turns around and pulls something out of her locker, her bare ass staring back at me. Yes, her fucking locker. This club is as classy as they come.

"This is all I have for you to borrow. It's a promotional tee for the club, but at least it's dry," she says as she hands me a black shirt.

"Wow. Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

"Sweetie, I've gotta get back out there, but I hope you enjoy the rest of your night," Candy says before striding out of the dressing room on her ridiculously high stripper heels.

I replace my ruined tank with the black promotional tee that Candy, the hot and seemingly friendly stripper, gave me. I see my reflection in the mirror and can't help but to laugh. I'm now sporting my black mini skirt and a tight black tee that is short enough to reveal my belly button. The shirt just has the word Trixie's written over the chest, accentuating my boobs with sparkles.

Oh my, Trent is going to have a field day with this one.

I head out of the dressing room and make my way back over to my friends. Trent is sitting down next to Amy, and a huge grin spreads across his face when he takes a gander at my new shirt.

"Damn, I leave you alone for five minutes and you're now promoting this club. Did you get a job here? When I said I wanted you to dance for me, I meant for my own personal entertainment, baby." The asshole is grinning so hard, I can't help but to smile back at him.

"Shit, I thought you wanted me to dance for you. I've agreed to go on stage next, and there's no backing out now I already signed a stripper contract."

He roughly grabs my hips and pulls me to his lap. "No fucking way anyone is going to watch my girl dance or see any part of her naked. These tits, this hot ass, and your sweet, tight pussy are mine and mine alone."

I giggle at his demands and find myself swooning over the idea of only being his. This was definitely a night to remember. I look down at the man staring back at me with his sexy, dimpled grin and mentally take a picture of him for my Trent album.

Click.





Chapter Twenty-Eight



“If the chicken shit shoe fits, go ahead and wear it, you pussy.”



“Honey, I'm home!” I holler to Trent as I walk into his apartment. I see him sitting at his kitchen counter, laptop in front of him, and he's motioning for me to come over towards him.

“Wow! That's awesome, Mia. Do you like your kindergarten teacher?” Trent is talking into his laptop.

I just got done taking a yoga class with Amy and Lizzy. We just started this new hot yoga class that, no joke, kicked my ass. I've never sweated so much in my life. My hair is haphazardly thrown into a messy bun and I'm still sporting my yoga pants and tank top. I'm a hot mess right now and planned on taking a quick shower once I got to Trent's place. I set my gym bag down near the kitchen island and stand behind him, my hands resting on his chair.

“Miss Ann is so pretty and so nice and she brought us cupcakes today!” A sweet little girl's face is on Trent's laptop screen. He's Skyping with his niece Mia, and this is the first time I've actually gotten to see her cute dimpled face in person—in a virtual perspective at least. She looks so much like Trent, with dark black hair thrown up into adorable pigtails and the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen on a child.