Page 52 of Sexy

I place my hand on his shoulder and feel a chill run through him.

He looks up at me and we’ve traded places from a few minutes ago. I lift a leg and step in, and then do it again. He stands, tugging my pants up with him.

He leans in and whispers, “I can’t wait for my turn.”

Chapter Eighteen

I think about her the whole walk back. She wanted me. I can feel it. She wanted me to take her right there. She’d have let me fuck her, just like she did the other night on the roof.

But is it the fantasy she wants? Fletcher the stripper? Fletcher the teacher? Or something else?

It’s impossible to tell, and that’s the problem with the job I do. You can’t ever tell if people like you for who you are or what you are. I know what I look like. I’ve never had a problem getting girls. I lost my virginity when other guys were still trying to make it to first base. Hell, I even had a few moms making eyes at me back in high school.

But they always wanted something out of it. The teenagers wanted to go to dances with the quarterback. The college girls wanted to get fucked by the lacrosse star. The patrons at the show want to say they fucked one of the Mountain Men. And not just any Mountain Man, the lead.

It’s tainted me, so what? I get to have an opinion about the hand I was dealt, just like everyone else. And I’m not saying I’d want to be anyone but me, because I don’t.

I just want girls to look at me with something more than the size of my cock on their minds.

“Hey,” Chandler says as I pass through the backstage door. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d show up.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” And for the first time, I wish I wasn’t. Tiffy’s father is gonna be here. She wants me to… what? What kind of first impression is that? Hey, Dad, this guy wants to date me. Don’t you love that he takes his clothes off at our hotel every Wednesday and Saturday?

Yeah, that’s gonna go over well.

Wait, what? Since when do I care what kind of impression I make on a girl’s parents? Like I ever had a chance with Tiffy. She’s smart, rich, beautiful. And she wants Cole. She hired me to get Cole. And yeah, I can tempt her all I want with lap dances. But the fact is, I’m not the guy who gets a girl like her. She’s a one-night stand if ever there was one. And our one night was up a few days ago.

So fuck it. I might as well do my job and do it well.

I go into my dressing room and push the costumes around. Saturdays are a little more wild than Wednesdays. For one, we sell more tickets. We take out some tables and put in cheap seats. There will be a few hundred more people in there tonight. So we do it right. And the new routine we came up with is the first act.

I’m not gonna waste any more time thinking about Tiffy. I’m just gonna go out there first thing and find me a girl to erase this shitty life I’ve set up for myself. Erase all the shit that’s piling up. Forget that my job is hanging by a thread. Forget that people are depending on me. Forget my fucking brother came back to town on the one day I wish he’d just drop dead.

Forget all that shit.

I go back out into the common room where all the guys hang out and do my thing. “What’s Sexy Man have to say this week?”

Mitch throws the weekly tabloid at me and hits me in the chest. “We laughed about it yesterday, asshole. You’ve just been too caught up in the boss’ daughter to even remember we exist.”

“Yeah, well. She’s been trying to fire me all week. What was I supposed to do? Let her get rid of me?”

“You should read it,” Steve says, pointing to the magazine. “It’s got you written all over that shit. We laughed so hard last night in the bar.”

I grin and open the trashy paper to the weekly columns and start reading.

Dear Sexy Man,

I got a problem. A girl showed up who’s way above my league and I fucked her blind in my office. The problem is, she’s my boss. And now she wants more and I just don’t know how to tell her to get lost without losing my job. Help!

Signed,

Cock on the Clock

I let out a laugh. God, this shit is priceless.

Dear Cock on the Clock,

Never, ever, fuck the boss, son. You have two choices. Marry the bitch or quit your job and move on. Boss bitches never get over it. So declare your independence and fly free, young man. Learn your lesson well. It’s a memory for the books, that’s for sure. There’s nothing better than getting off with a woman who’s forbidden. But the cock gods demand to be paid. So next time you’re tempted to fuck where you work, ask yourself, ‘Is this the girl I want to marry?’ And if not, then tuck that cock back in your pants and move on.