44

The music ends, and I return to the real world under loud applause and whistles. With a confident, lazy stride, I leave the stage. My next set is in about forty minutes, so I’ve got time for a couple of private dances… if I like the client.

I head to the dressing room, change outfits, and go straight to the VIP room where a client is already waiting. The room is fairly spacious, with a stage and pole, and a separate entrance for the dancers. In front of the stage is a soft leather couch and a table for the client… or clients. If needed, that couch sees a lot of “interesting” things.

The light is focused on me, so I can’t see the man at first. The routine is set up so that part of the dance happens on stage, then I come down and dance near the client… and on him.

After finishing the stage part, I come down. On the couch sits… some skinny nerd.

Well, definitely not my type.

I smoothly climb onto him. The guy watches me with huge nervous eyes, barely breathing. It’s kind of funny, but laughing in his face would probably traumatize him for life. He’s tense, but I can feel his hard-on through my ass. The kid needs to grow a pair.

Moving slowly on him, I unhook the last piece of clothing, and my panties drop to the floor. I take his trembling hands and place them on my ass, swaying my hips.

His breathing goes uneven, he swallows nervously, starting to touch me hesitantly. Damn… he’s a good boy. Gentle, careful. You can feel it in his energy. Sometimes guys grab so hard they leave bruises. What’s someone like him even doing here?

Back in the dressing room, Ksyusha tells me it’s actually his birthday, and his friends got him this as a gift to “wake him up.” Figures.

There’s still time, so I change again and head back to VIP. When I come down for the second dance… my client is none other than Flick.

My enthusiasm drops instantly, but I’m a professional. I drop my panties and climb onto the idiot.

This one doesn’t hesitate. He immediately starts grabbing whatever he can reach.

“Let’s get some privacy, Adele,” he whispers against my neck, pulling me close. “I want you so fucking bad.”

His hand starts moving toward my crotch. Sure, some touching is allowed, since they pay, but only with consent. And him just shoving his hands in like that, knowing exactly how I feel about him… that’s crossing the line.

I push his hands away, but he grabs my ass hard, pressing me against his erection.

“Adele, you don’t know what you’re missing!”

I snort sarcastically.

“What, too proud? You fuck a lot of guys, but not me?”

“You had your chance,” I say, and I see his eyes flash with anger. Damn, I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

“Since when are sluts so picky?” he hisses and lunges at my neck, biting and kissing hard.

One hand holds me tight, while the other… starts trying to undo his pants.

Red flags go off instantly. But our club doesn’t tolerate that kind of shit, thank God for the owner. There are panic buttons placed around the room.

I reach for his neck, and he thinks I’m about to embrace him, grinning wide… but behind the couch, there’s a button, and I press it.

He doesn’t notice, keeps going at my body while I try to push him off.

The door bursts open, and an angry Baby appears in the doorway. There’s a reason for his nickname—he’s the biggest, strongest guy in the place.

Grabbing Flick by the collar like a mangy dog, the brute easily lifts him off the couch and drags him out. That asshole’s night is over until he sobers up.

Honestly, stuff like this isn’t rare. Our guys constantly have to remind clients how to behave. If a girl says no, forcing it gets you kicked out.

My heart is pounding like crazy, but I need to pull myself together. The night’s not over yet.