Page 27 of Damaged Prince
I imagined her gaze eating me up, her heart rate rising, her breathing quickening. With every move of my body, I’d hoped she would like what she was seeing, that I’d be turning her on.Would her cheeks be flushed pink? Would she shift in her chair with need?
Odd as it is, for a stripper, I don’t get hard. Never have. It’s another reason I wonder why so many people request a dance from me. I don’t get off on it.
Sure, I enjoy dancing. I love the freedom it gives me. But it’s not sexual for me, even if most of the job is me taking off my clothes.
But tonight, thinking about Laney, I was harder than I wanted to be.
Mixed that with the fact that I was imagining the last man I danced for tonight was Kai, and it was impossible not to be rock hard.
Getting my dick to go down afterwards was not easy. That was until the man called me Tiny Dancer, and panic started to set in.
That was his name for me. Kai’s. After I told him what I did for a living, it was something that just stuck.
I didn’t hate it. Actually, I loved it. Any time he called me that, I’d get flustered and stupidly happy.
Hearing that brought a rush of memories and emotions I wasn’t ready for to the forefront of my mind.
Kai coming back into my life has left me more confused than I was before. I thought I buried those feelings a long time ago, but the moment I saw him at Thanksgiving dinner, I knew it was all a lie.
Now, knowing he’s dating the girl I’m in love with, my head is a fucking mess.
“Hey.” I reach the bar. Trixi looks up at me and smiles.
“Hey, you. Good night?”
My lip twitches up in a smile. “It was okay.” I shrug. “Calvin said something about tips?”
“Yup.” She ducks down behind the bar for a moment before popping back up. “For you.” She hands me a wad of cash.
My eyes practically bug out of my head. “You’re fucking shitting me?” I laugh in disbelief, flicking through the twenties and hundred-dollar bills.
“Nope.” She winks. “All yours.” She nods her head to the side. “Thank this one for most of it, though.”
My eyes flick over to the stool next to me, and when my eyes lock on him, all the air leaves my lungs.
Lips parting, I stare at the man in disbelief.
Did I somehow manifest him into reality?
He scowls at Trixi.
“I thought it was anonymous,” he hisses, glaring daggers at my very amused co-worker, who’s grinning at Kai like a fool.
“Oh, it is. For anyone else but our dancers. They have every right to know who’s watching behind that glass.”
Wait... no... She can’t be for real right now. There’s no way Kai was one of the men I’ve danced for tonight. There’s no fucking way.
Only...Tiny Dancer.
Fucking hell. It was him. It was fucking him! And the one damn time I let my mind wander where it had no business going, it became reality.
This has got to be some fucked up twisted joke.
“What are you doing here?” is all I can get out. The question comes out with a harsh bite to it. I don’t mean it to, but I’m kind of internally losing my shit right now.
“He’s been here all night.” Trixi grins, leaning against the bar top like she has all the time in the world. She’s a nosy one, loves to poke when she can. And normally, I find it entertaining, but right now, when it’s happening to me, not so much.
“You have?” My brows furrow as I stare at Kai. He’s dressed in the same clothes he was wearing this morning. Only his sleeves are rolled up, showing off his muscled arms.
