His Dancer 소설 & 이야기

If she spent half the effort on the missions that she does on her appearance, maybe she’d be of some actual use. Dorian, silent as usual. A coward. He’s the first one to abandon a teammate in a crisis. Acts like he’s calculating everything, but the truth is he’s scared. You can see it in his eyes. When things get tough, he’ll save himself first. Mark my words.

I want to disappear, to hide, but there’s no escape. “As you know,” Dante says, his voice smooth, “this is a combination lap dancing and strip club. The dancers are paid a set hourly f*e, plus they keep any tips. They choose when and how they work. If they don’t want to strip, they can just pole dance in outfits.” He plops me down in a chair before I can protest, and my eyes scan the room, desperate for any way out of this. I feel exposed under all the stares, and the pressure of Dante’s presence makes it worse. My breath quickens as I watch him wave someone over.

"And to you finally letting loose!" Our VIP platform gave us an unobstructed view as the first dancers took the stage. "Ladies, are we having fun yet?" The tallest dancer, his dark skin gleaming under the lights, worked the edge of the stage. His hips moved in ways that should probably be illegal in several states. "God yes," Scarlett breathed, slipping a fifty into his waistband. He rewarded her with a wink and a body roll that had the whole crowd screaming. The music shifted to something slower, more seductive. Three new dancers emerged. The one in the middle - built like a Greek god with honey-colored hair - locked eyes with me as he loosened his tie.

He cringed in disappointment and then fondled with his glass. “I was thinking we could go up the stage and dance” He shrugged. “I don’t dance with strangers,” I said and walked past him. My long legs made quick strides and he tried to catch up with me. “I’m surprised that you don’t know me” His gaze fluttered. I paused and stared at him in confusion, “Excuse me, the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you”. “Everyone on TikTok knows me. I’m Charlie Sheen, the dancer. I could take you up and perform some cool moves on you” He winked.

“Dance?” “Yes,” I say, gaining confidence. “I’m a dancer. It’s something I’m very good at.” Very, very good at, actually. But it’s not good to blow one’s own trumpet. Better to take him by surprise. He nods, considering. “Interesting. What kind of dance?” “One that helps people relieve stress,” I say, meeting his gaze. “I dress in very skimpy clothes and dance for exclusive audiences.” “Like a stripper?” “Not exactly. It may seem that way, but it’s another category of dancing,” I explain.

Maya whispered in my ear, nodding toward the stage. She was right. One of the dancers—tall, probably mid-thirties, with dark hair and a jawline that could cut glass—had his eyes locked on me. He moved like liquid sex, all rolling muscles and deliberate movements, and when he smiled at me, it was pure sin. My face flushed hot. I looked away, but I could still feel his gaze burning into me. "You should get a private dance," Maya urged, giggling. "Come on, live a little! Derek never has to know."

TRINITY. The bass is pounding through my bones when I step onto the main stage. Thursday nights are always packed, but tonight feels different. The energy is charged, electric, and I'm feeding off it as I grab the pole in my signature red set—barely there scraps of lace that leave almost nothing to the imagination. I'm Daisy here. Not Trinity Lambert, graduate student drowning in debt and thesis anxiety. Just Daisy. The lights hit me and I begin to move, letting the music take over. This is the only time I feel completely free—when I'm dancing, when I'm in control, when nothing else matters.

“But he refused to listen!” My head snapped up. Something inside me flared. I stood up slowly. “Who are you calling an exotic dancer?” I shot back. The room went still with the maids surprised. “I am a ballet dancer, A fucking World known Ballerina.” I continued, my voice rising. “An Olympic silver medalist. I have a career…Your son was going after my butt! Kissing my Ass!!. I never went for him!!” My jaw tightened. “…unlike your so…”

Still craving a man who's shown me I'm nothing but a piece of ass to him. So I lift my glass, drain what's left, and paste the smirk back on my face like armor. "C'mon, cuz. Let's dance. I don't wanna talk about men problems tonight." Daisha grins. "Now that's the energy I'm lookin' for." She grabs my hand, dragging me straight into the crush of bodies. The dancefloor moves like one giant wave under the flashing lights, shoulder to shoulder, heat and sweat rolling through the air thick enough to taste. Daisha's already in her element—dropping low, throwing her ass back like she's auditioning for Beyoncé's next tour.

She smirked at me over my shoulder. "Hey handsome," she shouted over the music. "I'm Tanya. Wanna dance?" Before I could answer, another woman appeared in front of me, a gorgeous redhead with full lips and a tight black dress. She ran her hands up my chest, licking her lips. "I'm Daisy," she purred. "And I think I need a strong man to keep up with me tonight."