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“Ohhhhhhh,” the girls all around me coo.
“Someone’s gonna get a big fat tip.” Nicole winks. “And some money too.”
Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. I know some of the other girls offer extra services in the VIP rooms, but I draw the line at that. Miss Sunshine will happily get naked, hello tips, but their penises stay away from her—my—vagina.
“You got it, boss lady,” I tell Miss Rhi as I stand up. Walking over to the floor-length mirror, I take in my outfit to make sure it’s looking fine. Tonight, I’m wearing stripper heels—duh—a sexy baby-pink G-string with a demi cup bra and over the top a darker pink, satin dressing gown that just covers my ass. Tying the sash, I open it at the front to show off the girls. Then I adjust my boobs before slicking some Vaseline over my nipples to make them shine, a neat little trick of the trade Nicole shared with me back when I was just here watching. With one last fluff of my hair, I spin on my heel and head to the stage, ready for my set.
“Have fun,” Nicole singsongs and gives me a finger wave. Waving back, I step into the hallway and walk toward the stage. Standing off to the side, I shake my shoulders, loosening up my body. The lights go out, it’s go time. I walk onto the stage and turn my back to the audience. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and an image of Mr. H appears, and that feeling of ‘I can do this’ washes over me. Nodding to the music man, he nods back, and the music starts; it’s showtime. I always start my nights—and my VIP sessions—with “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails, you cannot get any sexier than talking, well singing, about fucking like animals.
My body moves to the beat, and I float around the stage, not paying attention to the audience, focusing on the image in my mind of Mr. H. Piece by piece my outfit falls away and just as the song finishes, I jump onto the pole in the middle of the stage and begin part two of my routine.
When I first started here, I was petrified of the pole, but now it’s my favorite part of my routine. And I freaking love how I can seamlessly go from sexy dancing and stripping to seductive spinning on the pole. My next goal is to learn to strip on the pole, Nicole thinks I’m crazy, but I’m always up for a challenge.
Before I know it, I’m collecting the bills thrown on the stage and my second set of the evening is over. After a forty minute break, I’ll return for my third set and repeat, four more times and then my shift is done. Occasionally, like tonight, I give private dances, therefore reducing my sets from six to five, but the private dance fee certainly makes up for the missed set.
Most shifts I walk away with about two grand in my pocket. Not gonna lie, that’s why I do this. As an entry-level marketing assistant, I’d be lucky to be making nine hundred bucks a week, but I don’t want to do this forever. No one wants to see a stripper with saggy boobs swinging around a pole. So my plan is to do this ‘til my student loan is paid off and then I focus harder to get my dream job.
Stepping off the stage, Nicole reminds me of my private guest before she takes to the stage for her second set of the evening. Nodding at her, I race back into the dressing room to freshen up. My makeup is still on point so I slip back into my pink lingerie and gown. Quickly I grab a cool drink of water before I head to VIP 3 for my private dance.
Standing outside the door, I close my eyes and take a breath. As soon as my image of Mr. H appears, I nod my head. With my hand on the door handle, I push it down and open, just as the beats from my Nine Inch Nails song wrap themselves around me. Putting one foot in front of the other, I sashay into the room and drift into the zone. Lowering my head to make it more seductive, I step farther into the room. The sound of the door clicking closed behind me causes me to jump in fright. Taking another deep breath to calm my sudden bout of nerves, I lift my head, but those nerves come back with a vengeance and my eyes widen to the size of saucers. Standing in front of me is none other than the man of my dreams himself, Mr. Freaking-H.
ChapterNine
While waiting in the VIP room for my private dance with Miss Sunshine, the nerves start to kick in. I haven’t been in a strip club since Garrick’s bachelor party, but this is the first time I’ve requested a private dance. As soon as I described the type of lady I wanted—golden blond hair, green eyes, fantastic tits, and legs that go on and on—the owner’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Then with a beaming smile she said, “I have the perfect girl for you, sir, but do you mind waiting? Miss Sunshine is about to go on but I promise you, she’ll be worth the wait.”
“Sure, I can watch her out here first.”
She shook her head at me and tuts, moving her finger back and forth in my face like a pendulum. “Uh-uh, wait for her in the room, it will be more enjoyable for you, THEN you can watch her on stage later when she does her next set.”
And that brings us to now. Me waiting in the VIP room for my dance with a stripper named Miss Sunshine. While I wait, my mind drifts to my Little Sunshine, wondering if I should reach out and have dinner with her. Garrick would appreciate me checking in on his little girl, it’s what a good best friend would do. Before I can think on that further, the door handle rattles.
That little jingle has my nerves ramping up. Wiping my hands down my thighs, I wipe away the sweat that suddenly appeared. Closing my eyes, I take a breath, it eases my nerves slightly and when I open them again, I keep them focused on the entrance. After what feels like an eternity, music begins to pump through the speakers and the door begins to open. The room darkens, the atmosphere changing when the lights change color. The first thing I notice when she steps into the room is her long, lean, sexy as hell legs. My eyes drop to her heel-clad feet and then slowly I run them up her body and I like, no love, what I see before me.
My gaze lands on her head but she’s looking down, swaying gently from side to side, anticipation building with each movement of her hips. Finally, she lifts her head and my heart stops, it literally stops beating in my chest. My eyes are as wide as hers and if this was a cartoon, they’d be bulging out of our heads.
Neither one of us utters a word. We silently stare at one another, each of us processing the situation we currently find ourselves in. I was just ogling the half-naked daughter of my best friend, the half-naked exact replica of whom I requested when I booked this. At that revelation, my brain kicks into gear. “Sunshine, what are you doing here?”
“Mr. H. … I umm, shit, fuck, shit.”
She turns to flee but she’s trembling, her shaking hand can’t grip the door handle. Finally, she gets it to move and pulls open the door, light from the hallway shines through the gap. Reaching over her shoulder with the palm of my hand, I slam it shut again. My front is pressed to her back. She’s breathing heavily and I’m accosted with her scent. A scent I haven’t been able to get out of my head for almost two years now. “Sunshine, sweetheart—” She shakes her head at the sound of my voice but I can’t let it go. Spinning her to face me, I stare into her eyes. “What are you doing here? You work here? Why? What about marketing? Talk to me, Sunshine.”
“I … I …” she mutters, unable to form a full sentence. She’s still shaking her head, clearly, she’s in shock because I know I fucking am.
“You work here?” I question again. “I thought—” But she interrupts me, pressing her palm to my chest.
“Please, Mr. H, can we just forget that you saw me?” she begs. The broken tone of her voice hits me deep inside. Then she pleads again, “Please?”
“I will never be able to get this vision out of my head, Sunshine.” And that’s the God’s honest truth. Calliope Fischer, My Sunshine, is fucking gorgeous on any given day, but in sexy as sin lingerie, she’d bring the toughest of men to their knees; me included. My mind is running rampart with what I’d love to do with her scantily clad body, and let me tell you, the reality is much better than my imagination. I quietly add, “It’s hard enough as it is.” And I don’t know if I’m referring to my dick, or the inappropriate thoughts I’ve had surrounding this woman.
Her breath hitches at my admission and she lowers her head. Reaching out, I place my finger under her chin and lift. Our faces, inches apart. I can feel her breath on my skin and if she was any other woman on this Earth, I’d cover her mouth with mine and kiss her, but I can’t because she’s my best friend’s daughter. I know that’s hypocritical considering I dream about her, but dreams and reality are two very different things.
“Mr. H,” she whispers, “I … I—”
“You what, Sunshine?”
“I … I need to go.” Staring at her, I see a broken and defeated girl before me and it hurts to see her like this. “Please let me go,” she begs again, her eyes welling with tears.
“Okay,” I relent, nodding at her but it’s the last thing I want. I have so many questions right now. “I’ll let you go, but this isn’t over, Calliope.” Removing my hand from her chin, I slide it down her arm and take her hand in mine, giving it a light squeeze before I remind her, “You and I need to talk.”
