Page 14 of Full Service
“It’s not that bad. Management could be a little nicer, but it pays the bills.”
“Yeah, but you have a chance to get out one day, Mr. Smarty-Pants. You’re gonna have a real job in the future. All I have is this. I’m going to die on the stripper pole.”
I let out a laugh at his macabre humor. “You quit it. You are not. You’re going to find a hot man and have him sweep you off your feet.”
“Girl, I will not. I’m not as hot as Julia Roberts, okay? I don’t have some rich guy wanting to keep me. And trust me, I need to be kept. I’m far too spoiled for anything else.”
“You sure are,” I say as I change into my jock strap and then proceed to rub lotion all over my body. Gotta make those muscles pop. When I’m done, I put on my chaps, a vest, and my cowboy boots and get ready to go on stage.
This is gonna be a fun one, I think as I hear the music pumping out in the main room. I can see the lights flickering and the smoke starting to be pumped in from the machine. It’s almost time to go put on one hell of a show and my body is prepped and amped up.
Mack stands and winks at me. “You ready, babe?”
“Sure am,” I respond as we make our way onto the stage. The cheers and hollers are nearly deafening as we start to dance, our moves coordinated and perfectly in time with the beat. And slowly, we start to strip our clothes off, teasing the audience. They’re frantic, the men and women in the audience reaching out for us, wanting to touch, but they’re not allowed. Not really. The Back Door might be a little shady, but there are rules.
We kneel to collect the cash they’re waving at us, and when my knees hit the stage floor, I feel fingers start to stuff the bills into the waistband of my chaps. Just wait till those come off. We’ll make bank.
Which will then go to bills.
To a shitty apartment and marginal food.
But it’s fine. I could be doing something else and making minimum wage.
This is more fun and keeps me in shape at the same time. And I’m damn good at it.
I stand up and roll my hips, pulling my chaps off just as Mack does, my eyes moving across the crowd. Bodies, faces, shadows. But in the distance, I see a familiar figure. My heart rate triples, and I find myself losing the ability to breathe from excitement.
My dick twitches and my balls tingle.
He’s here.
Dr. Sinclair.
And he’s watching me intently.
Chapter Three
Silas
I’ve made a huge, colossal mistake.
I’m being redundant.
But it doesn’t matter. I seem to like making these mistakes. I keep coming back for more.
My back hits the wall in the crowded room, watching as Everly strips his vest off, showing his hard nipples and his oiled six-pack.
Fuck. Me.
My cock twitches in my pants, and I adjust it discreetly, hoping to behave like someone with an ounce of tact and not a screaming, wild animal like the rest of the patrons here.
But then again, I showed up like the creep I am, didn’t I?
Everly told me after class yesterday that he had a shift at the club tonight, almost like he was coaxing me, tempting me to show up.
“I work Saturday, just so you know. At ten.”
I pretended like I didn’t hear it, like it was just white noise in my ears, but I did. I etched the info into my mind. I even went online when I got home to double-check that he was, in fact, working. And there he was, in all his half-naked glory on my computer screen, beckoning me.