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When my song ended, I collected my money and my clothes and went back stage to change. I felt shaken from my normal stance of confidence, but I didn’t let it show on my face as Sveta passed by, hitting my elbow. Reg had decided on some weird hip hop dance montage for Sveta’s outfits tonight. She walked out on stage in tear-away pants and a ripped shirt that allowed just enough of her breasts to hang out to curl the boys’ toes. Seeing what she was forced to wear, I winced as I picked up the two-piece gold bikini and held it in front of me. There was literally enough cloth to cover my nipples and half of my vag. I shook my head, and I pulled the strings over me and tied them in a loose bow at the back.
Sveta’s second set wasn’t as long, and I could see the exhaustion on her face as she exited the stage. Several girls had quit over the last few months, tired of Reg’s bullshit, no doubt. That left Sveta and me to pick up the slack. At first, we were all about the extra money, telling Reg not to hire more girls. But now, as the nights wore on, we were dying for a break.
I took a deep breath and stood at the edge of the curtain, ready for my next song. As soon as the beat started pumping, I strutted out on the floor, trying to ignore the incredibly hot man staring at me from the back. But that proved impossible. As I swung around the pole on stage, I watched as he stood and walked through the ropes and up to the stage. He watched my every move like a hawk, not letting anything slide. I was used to rich assholes hunting me down on stage, but for some reason, this guy brought a different kind of feeling to the pit of my stomach.
My eyes shifted from him to the others, and he pulled a large roll of money from his pocket and started tossing it at my feet. I looked down as I moved my hips, and realized he was not tossing single Euros. He was tossing hundreds.
As the song wore on, my nerves lit on fire, and I watched as the mysterious man unfolded the wad of hundreds and began tossing them two at a time. There was enough money at my feet to cross Europe twice. Heat bubbled in my belly, and I tried to push my strange attraction to the back of my mind. I stepped forward closer to him, giving him a good view of what he came to see. His mouth curled into a devilish smile, and he stepped back, tossing the bills from a distance. I couldn’t figure out what this guy wanted.
The intensity of his stare was so strong, I could barely lock my gaze with his. The small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth made me feel like the queen I had walked out here, pretending to be. It made me want to dance harder and longer, but just for him. Maybe the gold outfit wasn’t so bad after all. Although, I think I could have come out in a jumpsuit, and this guy would still be standing here. He didn’t watch me like he was devouring my body. He watched me like he was about to devour my soul, but in a really good way. I closed my eyes for a minute and felt the beat moving through me, knowing he was glued to the end of the stage. I needed to get my head straight. There shouldn’t be a single person in this place that made me lose my cool, not even Mr. VIP sexy lips.
When the song finished, I picked up all the bills and looked up at the man. He bowed his head and walked back toward the VIP, stopping and talking for a moment with Reg. I hope he wasn’t one of Reg’s boys, not that he had many friends with money like that, but they were always douche bags, trying to stick their fingers where they didn’t belong.
I ran backstage and dropped the hundreds on the table, stacking them quickly, knowing I had to get out on the floor. I could almost not believe how much cash I was holding in my hand. I stuffed it into the envelope and into my drawer for now. I had to turn it in to Reg later on tonight. The bright lights backstage and the darkness of club blinded me for a moment. I fixed the straps on my bodysuit, definitely not wearing the string bikini out on the floor. As I walked along winking at the men in the chair, Reg motioned for me to come over to him.
“You have a VIP request to join the party, have fun with His Majesty,” Reg said with a coy smile, before slapping me on the ass and pushing me toward the ropes.
I glared back at him. He laughed before walking forward and smiling at the bouncer. I slowly approached the table where the dark-haired man sat. My heart picked up in speed, and heat rose in my belly. He motioned for me to sit, smiling kindly at me in a way I wasn’t used to. Awkwardly, I shuffled to the side and sat down in the booth, crossing my legs and leaning forward, trying to remember he was waiting for my seductive side, not my clumsy, young girl side.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, motioning to the table.
There were several bottles of vodka and one bottle of whiskey lined up across the table. I made it a point to never drink alcohol with the customers, something Reg hated, but put up with. I shook my head. He pulled a mug from behind the ice bucket and poured me a cup of Turkish coffee. I felt slightly sheepish, but took the mug and sipped from it, happy to have something warm in the cold club air. I smiled awkwardly over my cup as he sat there staring at me. Was I supposed to give him a lap dance? I put the coffee down expecting that to be the next thing.
“What do you like to do for fun?” His dark eyes cut right through me.
“Oh,” I said, surprised by his question. “I like to travel, hike. Pretty much anything outdoors.”
“Traveling, I like that,” he said nodding his head in approval. “Where have you been?”
“I backpacked from Liverpool to here,” I replied. “But had to stop for financial reasons.”
“Your family, they don’t miss you?” His questions bordered on too personal, but I shifted in my seat and smiled sweetly.
“No, they have their own thing going on,” I replied, looking up at the clock. “You know, I really should go get ready for my next set.”
I put my hands on the table and stood up, looking down at my coffee. I guess I should thank him, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I smiled and turned to walk into the back.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, grabbing my wrist. “I have paid a thousand pounds to your club owner for your exclusive company for the evening.”
I could feel electricity move from his hand through my body, and I was taken back by how overwhelming the feeling was. I liked his hand on my wrist, and I liked his sexy dark features and the way he stared at me. I shook the feeling away, knowing that I absolutely could not have those feelings for a customer. His hand tightened on my wrist, so I yanked it away, pissed that Reg would think it was okay to sell my services off to some stranger.
“Despite what you might think goes on in a strip club,” I said cutting my eyes at him. “I do not, nor will I ever, sell sexual favors for money.”
I raised my hands to my hips and looked at him with attitude.
“No, no, no,” he said, laughing. “Please, sit back down. I have never in my life had to pay for sex, nor would I start now.”
I looked at him curiously, not understanding what it was that he wanted from me. I didn’t fully believe that he wasn’t expecting any kind of favor, but since he had paid for my company, I figured I should probably sit down. He was an interesting man, obviously rich, but he had a way about him that was sexy and mysterious. I was not excited to be having these feelings for a customer at the club, but they weren’t something I could shake. I watched as he whispered something into his friend’s ear, who was standing close to the table but allowing us privacy. He sipped his coffee and looked back at me.
“But don’t mistake my words for lack of interest. If I were ever to pay, you would be the girl.” He smiled. “However, I can’t imagine there is a sum high enough in this entire country that would be sufficient for the honor of your, what do we call them, personal services.”
Heat shot through my chest, and I couldn’t control it. He had paid a stripper the best compliment he probably ever could, but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the coffee, the pile of euros sitting in my desk drawer, or even his extremely expensive clothes and jewelry that made him attractive. It was the way he moved and the way he talked that did it. His eyes prowled over me as if he looked at a fine piece of art, too beautiful to touch, but too v
aluable to push away.
I could tell he came from a good family. His manners were impeccable, even in a place like this. His hair was styled just right, as if someone meticulously placed each strand of hair before setting it, and his skin was soft and smooth looking.
I sat back down at the table, knowing I should walk away, but feeling like it was just impossible at this point. There was a shimmer of mischief in his partially crooked smile that both scared and aroused me at the same time. I could feel the heat in my stomach as it moved down between my legs, and I crossed them as a warning to myself. There hadn’t been a man yet that could get me that easily, and it definitely wasn’t going to be some rich guy in a strip club while I pranced around in a gold spandex leotard. He scratched his chin and laid his hands in his lap as he fiddled with the button on his very expensive Armani dress shirt. Who was this guy, some kind of prince or something?
