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A packed parking lot meant a lot of money in my pocket tonight.
Untouchable was the premier club in West Dremest. Where the wealthiest men spent their off-hours. Well, not all. For example, I’d never seen my boss step into the club. He had a membership. I paid the dues every year. It was more of a power play than anything. That Perry could get in, even if he didn’t want to. And people respected him for his membership. He’d also known the club’s owner for a long time.
The vetting process was lengthy. One of the strictest I’d ever seen. It was why I knew I was safe when I came here.
While Perry paid me well, Untouchable was where I felt most like me. Where I could let everything go and exist with the thumping bass, the eyes all over my body, and the money padding my bank account. I thrived on it. In secret. No one could know I did this on the side. It would look bad for Perry, and I wouldn’t want that for the man who starred in my fantasies.
The building was solid black, three stories, and sat on the western most edge of our beloved city in eastern Pennsylvania, north of Philadelphia. Dremest was divided into two sections, east and west. I kept my ass firmly in West Dremest. To go into the other side, that was where Jordan ruled with every bit of the power he commanded. I worked for Perry, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think if I crossed Jordan, he wouldn’t put me in the ground.
Employees parked around back of Untouchable; inside a gated lot we had a code to enter to get in. Untouchable was nothing if not secure. With my car parked and locked, I slung my duffel over my shoulder and walked to the door. Two guards stood like towering sentinels on either side. One of them nodded at me before punching in a code—different from the gate—and allowing me entrance. No one had the door codes except the guards and the owner, Dexen Dremest. Yes, he was from the family the city was named after. Only the Altairs rivaled his power and wealth.
A deep gray hallway met me inside as I wound through toward my dressing room. I shared it with two other men where we got ready for the night. I was alone for now. They could be on stage or on the floor. Most of the dancers did double duty, switching it up so both areas were covered. Not me. I only danced. On stage or in private. That was one of the deals I made when I came on board. Dexen was happy to oblige after I gave my performance for my interview.
I stripped out of my clothes and sprayed a sheer mist over my skin. It had the slightest hint of silver sparkle to it to give me an ethereal look when I was on stage. In my bag, I dug out my black G-string. The front was nothing more than a piece of fabric to cover my cock and balls. I didn’t like see-through material when I danced. Some things were better left to the imagination, though there wasn’t a whole lot to wonder about with how this hugged me. What I loved about this particular G-string were the three strings that came from each side of the fabric over my cock, hooking into a ring then meeting at one string at the back, down my ass. It gave me an edgier look. Not bright or flashy. Not see-through mesh. Not lace, though lace was also a favorite.
My black slacks went on next, different from the ones I wore to the office. My two worlds didn’t collide on purpose. Black suspenders looped over my shoulders, hooked into place over my bare torso and back. A silver bow tie to play off the mist I put on fitted firmly around my neck. My tie collection was endless, thanks to secondhand stores and the money Dexen gave the dancers for their costumes.
The final touch was a mask. Another condition of my deal. I wouldn’t reveal who I was to the members. I needed it to be this way. Would Perry fire me if he found out I danced on the side? Doubtful. I was still a reflection of him as his assistant, and not all his business partners would agree with me doing this. I wouldn’t put Perry or his company at risk like that.
I needed to dance in the worst way. Needed to work out my stress, the tension of every workday. It was an addiction the way it fueled me. One I couldn’t give up.
Silver swirled in an intricate design over the black mask which covered my nose upward. My face was clean-shaven; my lips had on a glossy pink tint.
I grabbed the product for my hair out of my bag before sitting the mask in place. I didn’t like when my hair got into my eyes, so I used my fingers to work the product through it to keep it back while I danced tonight.
With the mask resting on my face and one last glance in the mirror, I was good to go, with fifteen minutes to spare. I did that on purpose. I wasn’t someone who liked to rush around and arrive places at the last minute. This gave me time to let the music bleed into me from the dancer who was on prior to me. To find my pulse and make me one with it, so I was ready when my turn came.
Dexen leaned on the wall opposite of my door with one ankle crossed over the other, the picture of relaxation. He was delicious to look at. Regal with a chiseled jaw and straight nose. Copper hair combed back in waves. A dusting of scruff covered his face, but not enough to completely hide the dimples he flashed when he saw me.
“Dom, you look enticing as always,” he greeted. Of course, Dexen knew who all his dancers were.
I hooked my thumbs under my suspenders, releasing them so they snapped against my chest. “I have to put on my best if I want to earn the most.”
“You always do when you’re on the schedule.”
The money was a huge perk. I helped support my sister, who lived with me since she couldn’t work. I’d give her everything if she’d ask for it.
“Are you sticking with the stage or are you interested in a few private dances tonight?” Dexen asked.
I did an internal check, curious as to how I felt, how energized I was versus how I knew I’d be at the end of the dance on stage. Some nights I didn’t want anything extra. Others I could go for hours. “Just one tonight.”
He nodded. “I have someone lined up then.”
“New?”
“Not a new member, although it’s his first private dance.” He smiled. There was a little wickedness to it I wasn’t certain I wanted to dissect. Dexen was a man who calculated every move. Nothing he did was spur-of-the-moment.
The beat of the song changed as it thumped through the speakers. It was the cue that there was only one left, which meant my turn was coming and I wasn’t in the right frame of mind yet.
“Go.” He jutted his chin toward the front. “I know how you get.”
“Thank you.” I grazed my hand along his corded forearm before I left. If I wasn’t so wrapped up in Perry, and I didn’t work for Dexen, I’d find out what was under those slacks and that button-down real fast.
Sierra was up on stage, moving his body in a way that had men leaning closer. They couldn’t touch though. That wasn’t how Untouchable worked. It was called that for a reason.
Dexen didn’t let any of his members reach their hands out and stuff bills into the dancer’s G-strings. If there was a dancer they wanted to tip, there were envelopes on the table along with pens. The member wrote the dancer’s name on the outside and put the cash within. When the member was done for the night, they dropped the envelopes into a locked box where Dexen or one of his employees collected them and distributed the tips accordingly.
Closing my eyes, I relaxed my muscles, letting the workweek drift away. It was Thursday. One more day to go before I’d be back here on Saturday. As tempting as it was to want to join Perry at Peyton’s fortress, I couldn’t give this up. Not when Perry didn’t see me as anything other than his assistant. Hell, probably not even if he did.
