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“What the fuck, Opal,” Benny snarls, rushing backstage. “I’ve got a packed house and no one working center stage.” He stops screaming when he’s directly in front of me, his eyes roaming over my skimpy schoolgirl costume.
With a vile smile, Benny runs a finger down my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps and some form of venereal disease on my skin, no doubt. “Been a long time coming, getting your sweet ass out there. Best not disappoint me.”
“She’ll be fine,” Starlight clips. “Get your hands off her—you’re messing with her body glitter.”
“Times a wasting,” Benny snaps, jabbing his pudgy finger at his knockoff Rolex. He storms off, yelling at the DJ to play my musical number: Pussycat Dolls’Don’t Cha.
The song is so not me. Starlight picked it so I could disassociate from the moment. The less I’m reminded of who I am, the easier it’ll be to pretend it’s not me on the stage. It worked for practices. Here’s hoping it works for the real deal.
“You got this,” Starlight says as she hustles off backstage.
The curtains open, and I’m blinded by lights of every color imaginable.
“Gentlemen, fresh to the stage for her debut performance, the curvaceous Opaaal!” Benny hollers into the microphone.
The room erupts with whistles and catcalls.
Sweet Jesus!
It’s standing room only. The crowd is going wild, hooting and cheering. Dizzy, I take in the entire space, nearly peeing myself when I see gigantic men in leather cuts surrounding the stage. A flipping biker gang is here.
I’m more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. My stomach flips with my unease as I chant my mantra.
Think of the money.
This job means cash. Money means security. The more I make, the further away from Levi I can get, leaving all the horrors of my past behind me.
Holding my breath, I saunter up to the pole the way Starlight taught me, making my first circuit. I must’ve done it well because the bikers are cheering so loud, they drown out the other patrons.
I spin around the pole again, this time flipping upside down. The crowd’s whistling hurts my ears, but it helps me from overthinking.
Starlight said if I could make eye contact with the customers, that my tips would be better. She also told me not to do it if I felt uncomfortable.
Think of the money.
Showing more courage than I thought possible, I peek at the men centered near the front. The one in the crew’s core is a huge, tatted man with black hair and onyx eyes. He’s stupid-good looking, but honestly, he also looksmean,even while smiling—definitely a dangerous man. I avoid looking at him any further.
The guy left of him has long, reddish-brown hair and several facial piercings. He’s nearly as big as the first guy and equally scary, aside from his dark-framed glasses. Still, I look away quickly, feeling edgy.
Making eye contact with the patrons without my nerves skyrocketing seems a lost cause. I make another rotation on the pole, willing myself to give it another go. The third time’s the charm, right?
My eyes land on a handsome stranger with clean-cut brown hair and a manicured beard. Compared to the other two, he’s just as muscled, but his overall frame is not nearly as huge. He has a few tattoos, nothing like the first man, and no wild piercings like the second. His overall appearance reminds me of someone who has served in the military. And his eyes make him look kind.
Less threatening.
Think of the money.
Licking my lips nervously, I train my focus on him, giving him all my attention. Immediately, he notices that I’ve singled him out of the group, and he looks pleased as punch. He folds his massive arms over his chest, muscles threatening to break through his thin t-shirt. A sly smirk forms on his angular face as his emerald eyes watch me hungrily.
Wow, he’s hot!LikeMen’s Healthmagazine, hot. As far as picking them, I won the jackpot. About that earlier thought I had of him being less threatening…yeah, scratch that. He’s the most threatening out of all the men I’ve ever known. Those gorgeous eyes of his have the power to render me dumb. My heart races the more I watch him. And he watches me.
The bigger, tattooed man next to him nudges him in the ribs, laughing. But my handsome biker keeps staring at me, unflinching. I like the sound of that—my handsome biker. I lick my lips slowly, pointedly like how I’ve seen the other ladies do night after night. Rolling my hips and shaking my rear, I do everything I’ve learned to keep the biker’s attention on me.
A nagging feeling in the back of my head screams at me to cover up and run away. I shouldn’t be flirting with this no-name stranger with the beautiful eyes. That’s asking for trouble.
At once, I break eye contact, doing another circuit on the pole. But even as I move, I feel the cool heat of his eyes burning a hole through my flesh…well, maybe that’s a glitter embedding into my skin from gripping the pole.
The song has reached the part where I’m supposed to remove my clothing. I take in the room’s many occupants, all eyes focused on me and what I’m doing, and what I will do next. Like an idiot, I overthink it, imagining their greedy eyes eating me up.
