Page 115 of Crushing Clover

“You make the girl kneel on some rice, and all of a sudden you’re god’s gift to submissives?”

Leaving them to their smack talk, I made my way over to the pole, delighted despite myself. As gifts went, this was like the books and the yarn—personal. Thoughtful. Maybe he’d also gotten it so he could watch me dance, but at least part of it had been his desire to please me. I’d earned good money at the club, but Noah had always said I was gawky, and had never wanted to see what I could do, let alone visited the club.

Rather than hover, or demand a demonstration, the guys cranked the music and started their warm-ups. I joined them.

Once I was loosened up, I started with some easy stuff, not wanting to fall on my head in front of an audience. I hadn’t used a pole for months, so I was out of practice. I peeked over my shoulder a few times to make sure the guys were busy, and gradually regained my confidence, glad I could still do a basic inversion without falling on my head. He’d bought me floor mats, too, and I appreciated the extra consideration.

I wasn’t familiar with the music they listened to, but the rhythm was good, and I soon found myself dancing as though I hadn’t been away from it for long. The big T-shirt I was wearing kept getting in my way, so I stripped it off, trusting that mymodest sports bra wouldn’t overwhelm any of them with lust. It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen me naked a million times.

When I eventually took a break, I realized they’d stopped ignoring me at some point and were watching with rapt attention.

“You’re good at that, bootlicker,” Saint said grudgingly, shocking the hell out of me.

“Thanks,” I replied, feeling shy at the unexpected praise.

“Don’t get weird about it. It’s not like it’s a useful skill.”

“It paid better than any of my other jobs—barring the resort, of course.”

“Can you show us more?” Rush’s interest was gratifying. He could throw me down and fuck me anytime he pleased, but he wanted to watch me dance, too.

When I’d made the move from serving drinks to dancing, Noah had scoffed, saying no one would pay to watch me because I was cute, not hot. Despite his prediction, I’d made great tips. At no point had he ever given a shit about my dancing, even when I would come home excited because I’d learned something cool from one of my co-workers or had nailed something I’d struggled with. Sure, it had been my job, but I’d also enjoyed working on routines and the athleticism and skill of it. Looking back, I could see that nothing that had been important to me had been of interest to him, even though I’d listened intently to his video game talk every day.

“Is there anything specific you’d like me to do?” I asked Rush.

“Anything,” he said with an intrigued smile. “Are you wearing underwear under those tiny shorts?”

“She is,” Saint said with a certainty that made me realize he’d checked at some point. The man had a habit of staring at my ass when I wasn’t looking, despite otherwise hating me.

“Are you saying you want my shorts off?” It wasn’t like they were covering much anyway, or I would have slid off the pole and fallen on my head.

I knew Lucky’s answer without asking the question, but I glanced to Saint, who gave a noncommittal shrug. Even so, he watched carefully as I hooked my fingers into the waistband of my shorts and drew them down. I had visions of falling on my face as I tried to get the stretchy fabric over my feet, but I managed to make it look almost graceful.

“Hang on,” Rush said, going to the sound system and fiddling with it. “This one.”

A new song started, and I hopped onto the pole and rode it around once, trying to ignore the way they were looking at me, and pretend I was working. This was new territory, though, because I’d never actually been turned on at work.

I made myself concentrate and poured my helpless attraction to them into what I was doing. If I had to suffer, I wanted to make the three of them suffer right along with me.

All three were leaning on the equipment, watching with avid eyes, making me feel hot on top of being horny.

Maybe when I was done, they would have their way with me. Maybe Saint would be so pleased he would allow me to have an orgasm. Hope made my movements even more suggestive, and I could almost feel Lucky salivating.

When the song ended and I dismounted, the urge to make fun of myself or pull a face was almost overwhelming, but I didn’t allow myself to hide behind self-deprecation. I stood beside the pole with my hand on it, chin up, waiting for Saint to mock me.

“Fuuuck me!” Lucky swore. “Damn. Why didn’t I think of buying you a pole sooner?”

“I’m rusty,” I admitted.

“I’m sure one of us would be willing to grease you,” Lucky’s gaze traveled over my body.

“If you grease her, she’ll slide off the pole,” Rush said dryly.

“I’ve got a pole she can slide down.”

They started moving toward me, and I found myself backing away from so much overwhelming male attention.

“Wait!” I blurted, holding my hands out.

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