Page 74 of Bad Boy Next Door
Twenty-One
Jade
Nerves vibrated through me as I stood in the wings waiting for my music to begin. This was a mistake. A huge mistake. I was going to fall flat on my ass. What had made me think I could be an exotic dancer? What made me think the money was worth the almost certain humiliation?
The candy-floss-pink wig I’d picked out didn’t disguise my identity any more than the shiny strips of lime-green fabric hid my body. I don’t know why anyone bothered to call this a strip club. The dancers went on stage already stripped.
My music started, and I instantly had the urge to run to the ladies’ room. Tensing, I stared at the scuffed hardwood floor, wondering how many other girls had psyched themselves up on this very spot. Melodie had suggested I do some shots before going on. Angel had suggested something stronger, but it was going to be hard enough to remember my routine completely sober.
Go, I told myself, but my limbs wouldn’t move.
“Jade!” A voice pushed through the pumping music, and I lifted my gaze. Melodie was standing on the other side of the stage and shot me an encouraging smile. “You’ve got this,” she mouthed.
And she was right. I did. With a deep breath, I stepped on stage, strutting on my sky-high heels, trying to forget I was pretty much naked.
The heat of the lights stroked my skin and blinded me to the crowd. All I could hear was the music, so I decided to forget there was an audience. For all I knew, there wasn’t. Maybe they’d gotten impatient waiting for me to appear.
Raising my hands above my head, I circled my hips and swayed, then sashayed to center stage, where I ran my hands up my body and cupped my tits. My nipples instantly turned hard. Following the cues from my music, I turned and bent, ass to the audience, hands on the pole.
A few whistles and cheers broke through the music. Running my hands slowly up my thighs, I straightened, then snapped around to look over my shoulder. More cheers.
Emboldened, I went for the pole. Really went for it. Building up momentum from my walk, I grabbed high, hooked one leg around and spun, head back, tits high.
Dancing naked in front of these mostly sad men might be gross, but the actual dancing part was fun. I felt strong, sexy, and beautiful as I spun around the pole, then gyrated my hips and ass, tossed my head back, stretched my legs.
I got so into the dance I almost forgot that I wasn’t doing this for fun. If I wanted to cash in, I’d need to walk the edge of the stage and gather some tips.
Mimicking the other girls, I danced along the edge of the stage. When I saw a customer, I did a few moves directly in front of him, then crouched.
In this lower position, the lights weren’t directly in my eyes and I saw visible lust in the expression of the first man as he tucked bills into the band of my G-string. His fingers brushed down my thigh after depositing the money.
I twisted away, shooting him what I hoped was a hot, scolding look. It was hard not to seem irritated, but Melodie stressed that showing any kind of anger would significantly decrease my tips and probably get me fired.
I skipped over the next few men, acting uninterested in their offered cash and walked to the end of the short runway. Gyrating my hips as I squatted down, I looked up—and saw Nick.
His expression sucked the air from my lungs. His hunger. His lust. The heat in his eyes was unmistakable, and I was instantly wet.
Frank’s warnings about Nick were so hard to believe, and I looked forward to having a good laugh about it with him after work. A good laugh followed by a seriously good fuck.
Maybe we’d even try a repeat of that sleeping-over thing. It was scary, but I was a badass.
A man grabbed my ankle. I pulled it away quickly, and almost wound up to kick him before I remembered where I was.
Kicking the customers. Not good. I shimmied down, teasingly shook my finger at the man, and he responded by putting a small stack of bills in my G-string. These guys knew the rules. Flirting with the boundaries was part of the game, as long as the lines weren’t crossed.
When I turned back the other direction, I discovered Melodie’s advice was spot-on. More bills had joined the ones I’d ignored, and once each customer held a big enough stack in his hand, I rewarded him with close-up view and collected my pay.
My skin heated as I worked the stage. The heat didn’t just come from the lights or the effort, but from the unmistakable electricity of Nick’s gaze—from knowing he was out there watching and wanting me.
With every sway of my hips, I felt Nick’s presence caress my body, with every arch of my back I felt his lips on my tits, and with every pump of my ass I felt the promise of his cock between my legs.
I bent to give the men a view from behind and pulled out some of the bills and stashed them at the back of the stage like Melodie had taught me. I was so turned on, I feared my arousal might be a little too much on display, glistening for the crowd.
But I didn’t let that thought stop me from getting more tips.
A balding businessman I’d never seen in the club before reached up with some bills, at least one of which was a fifty. I danced for him briefly, then crouched to give him better access to my G-string.
He stood as he tucked in the bills. “Meet me out back. I can’t wait to ram my cock up your wet little twat.”
