Page 9 of Dust to Dust

Brooke furiously shook her head. “It’s still a strip club.”

Rubbing my temples, I replied, “Once again, I’m aware of what it is.”

“While I’m sure you can dance the g-string off any girl there and work the pole like no other, aren’t you worried about being around men in that capacity?”

With a roll of my eyes, I countered, “You act like I’ve been trapped in a convent. I’ve been with men before.”

“The two guys you’ve dated and screwed are not the type of men at Alainn.”

“I’ve been with three guys,” I corrected.

Brooke furrowed her blonde brows. “Wait, who was the third?”

“Victor.” When she stared blankly at me, I replied, “That guy from the dance competition.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Two epically vanilla guys along with a random one-night stand. I’m sure all three of their ideas of kinkiness were probably doggy style.”

I blushed at her summation. Brooke was right that I wasn’t exactly sexually adventurous. I’d lost my virginity at eighteen to my high school boyfriend of two years. Although he was in the Top 5 of our graduating class, he couldn’t find my clit to save his life. The same could’ve been said of my long-term lab partner in college as well as Victor.

The sad fact remained I was 0-3 when it came to orgasming with a guy.

Holding up my hands in surrender, I countered, “I didn’t see anywhere on the application where I needed to list my sexual partners or my safe and hard limits.”

“You’re seriously telling me you’re not going to lose your shit the minute some random man runs his hands all over your tits while he grinds into your pussy?”

With a shriek of horror, I motioned to Henry. “Don’t talk like that in front of him!”

Brooke snorted. “There’s Exhibit A of you being a prude.”

“I am not,” I argued. “And for your information, the men aren’t allowed to touch us. We can touch them during a dance, but they will be forcibly removed if they get handsy.”

“There’s still the dick factor.”

“I can handle it.”

Motioning around the studio, Brooke asked, “You’ve got a good gig here. Why would you want to leave?”

“The pay is abysmal when it comes to grad school tuition.”

“Becoming a stripper will fuck with your future,” Brooke stated.

This time I didn’t bother arguing about her cussing in front of Henry. Instead, I exhaled a shaky breath. “This is me we’re talking about. The scientist in me would never embark on anything without testing many theories.”

And that was the truth.

Dance might’ve been my hobby, but science was my passion. Growing up, I’d been the nerdy girl always reading or doing STEM activities. In high school, I earned the nickname Bernadette from the character in The Big Bang Theory. Since she was a smart scientist who was blonde with big boobs, I suppose it wasn’t too much of an insult.

My parents had always supported my future in the sciences. The day I’d gotten my acceptance from MIT we’d gone out to dinner to celebrate. My scholarship would ensure I wouldn’t be a financial burden to parents or myself through loans.

“I can dance under a fake name, wear a wig to disguise my identity, and only use this studio on my job history,” I explained.

Although she should’ve been satisfied with my plan, Brooke’s eyes shuttered. “Why are you doing this?” she questioned in an agonized whisper.

“It’s complicated.”

Her eyes flew open to glare at me. “I know I don’t have your mega brain, but I think I can comprehend if you explain it.”

“Like I said, I need the money for school.”

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