Glimpse Of Her

Alright, she was really starting to warm up to him.

"And he brought in more bouncers. One by the door of our dressing room and one by the stage to make sure no one gets too handsy. Some people assume that being a stripper means you're okay with being touched inappropriately or that you're selling yourself in other ways. Not true. I have a man waiting for me at home, and he doesn't want anyone else laying a finger on me."

"He's okay with you doing this?"

Caramel raised an eyebrow. "I just paid off our condo, and I'm saving up to take us on a cruise around the Caribbean. Yep, he's cool with it. Now, show me what's under that jacket."

Nerves started to creep in.

Stupid. She was about to perform in front of a crowd of strangers in this revealing outfit. And she was going to have to show more skin than she was comfortable with.

Which was scary.

Because even though she thought her breasts were nice, they were also large. And they had stretch marks.

"This was a mistake. I can't go through with this."

"Show me," Caramel said gently.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her jacket and let it slip off.

It was warmer inside, but she still felt a chill.

"This outfit is... different. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, I made it."

"It's quite colorful."

“I like bright colors. Is it too much? Should I have toned it down?”

“Hey, it’s different. And different isn’t always bad.”

Not in her experience.

Nerves filled her. “This was a terrible idea.”

“What? No!” Caramel cupped her face. “Seriously? Babe, you have got it going on. And these curves? The patrons here are going to love you. If Saber was here, he would cream his pants.”

Jesus. What a thought.

“You are just his type.”

Elle wasn’t sure she wanted to be Saber’s type.

“I’ve got stretch marks,” she blurted out.

“So? Me too. Don’t worry. Ain’t no one going to be focused on a few stretch marks when you have these girls out.”

Right.

There was a change in the music.

“That’s your cue, babe. Good luck.”

Fuck. Luck was something that had never been on her side. In fact, she’d always been seriously unlucky.

But maybe things were changing. Elle set her bag down by her jacket and took a deep breath.

Then she forced a smile onto her face. She could do this. She could rock this.

She had to.

Trevor Gomez watched from the shadows as she walked out onto the stage.

Interest filled him. This was . . . strange. He couldn’t remember ever feeling attracted to anyone else like this.

Well, other than Saber.

And nothing could ever come of that.

She’d clapped for her competition.

That said something about this girl . . . no, woman. Because she was all woman. Curves he would love to run his hands over. Piles of blonde hair that lay in soft waves down her back.

Lips that would look perfect wrapped around his cock.

Fuck. He was being a complete dick.

This was part of the job, although not a responsibility he particularly relished.

He was not supposed to get turned on.

None of the other women interested him. That didn’t mean they weren’t attractive. That they weren’t good dancers. That they wouldn’t be popular with Pepper’ regulars.

It worried Gomez because it was very rare for him to be aroused by any woman . . . unless he was sharing her with Saber. He’d long since given up trying to have sex without Saber. Not that he’d ever told his best friend that.

It was bad enough Gomez knew it. He didn’t need Saber knowing how fucked in the head he was.

Except . . . now there was her. She stepped out slowly onto the catwalk, looking like she couldn’t decide whether she was about to vomit or not. Her heels were too low and her outfit covered her almost entirely from chest to ass. Sure, it was made with see-through lace, but all the other women interviewing for this job had started out in G-strings and tiny bras that barely covered their nipples.

The outfit was so pink that it made him wince. And it looked like it was made of several different pieces of material sown together.

“She’s so far out of her fucking depth. What a joke,” Lucy said snidely as she sat across from him in the booth.

Fuck. Why had he kept Lucy on?

Because other than being a total cow, she hadn’t given him a reason to fire her. And if he got rid of her, he’d need to find someone to replace her. Which meant taking on more responsibilities until he did.

Which was something he didn’t need.

So for the moment, he put up with her cattiness and the way she continually tried to stick her nose up Saber’s ass.

But as soon as she messed up, she was gone.

He didn’t reply. He knew she wasn’t expecting him to because he gave Lucy even less than he gave most people.

Which wasn’t much to begin with.

“And what is she wearing? It’s probably a good thing she’s covering herself up. Why would she think anyone would want to see her strip?”

“Go away, Lucy.”

“What?” She jolted and then gaped over at him. He tried not to swear at women. His father had always cussed at his mother. And Gomez worked hard to never be like his father.

However, with Lucy, he was really close to breaking that rule. It was hard to get through her thick skull.

“Go. Away.”

The woman started dancing. What was her name? He glanced down at his list.Elle. Unusual, but it suited her.

To his shock, once she started moving, she lost her nerves. That sick look disappeared. And as she relaxed . . . she could move.

Fuck. His dick was so hard that it hurt.

“But Gomez,” Lucy whined. “I’m supposed to help you. Drake said.”

Saber said nothing of the sort. Gomez also knew that the other man would never have told Lucy she could use his first name.

“Lucy, go away. And don’t let Saber hear you calling him Drake.”

She swallowed and stood, stomping over to another chair. It wasn’t far enough away, but it would have to do.

It gave him a chance to watch Elle. His balls fucking ached. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten off. Lately, he hadn’t felt like joining in with Saber. It wasn’t that the other man had a parade of women through his bed. But he also wasn’t celibate. Yet, for the last few months, Gomez had been.

But this woman . . . she was making him feel.

And he wasn’t sure that he liked that.

Because that made him vulnerable to being hurt.

Fuck.

She’s just a chick trying out for a stripper job. She’s not going to change your life.

But damn . . . watching her was . . . it was almost a gift. Which sounded ridiculous. But the way she moved, the look on her face, she loved to dance.

And then she relocated to the pole. He tensed up. Soon, she would have to take off that outfit she was wearing. And he didn't want anyone else catching a glimpse of her.

Idiotic.

It was just part of the job.

She grabbed onto the pole and spun around. It was an alright move. Nothing extraordinary. She reached up high and attempted a basic invert.

He could swear he felt it before he saw it. Her face contorted in pain and she suddenly crashed to the floor. There were a few gasps and a laugh that he knew came from Lucy.

Jerk.

Without even thinking, Gomez leaped to his feet and hurried towards her.

* * *

Damn.

Elle shut her eyes as she laid on the stage. Her back was spasming and it was painful. Why the hell did she try that move? Why did she think this was a good idea?

Stupid. So stupid.

There was a time when she would have excelled at this.

That was in the past.

It felt like her life had two acts. Before the accident. And after. And the after was just complete and utter crap.