Page 62 of Forbidden Heroes

Cool conditioned air welcomes me, along with a blast of thumping music that reaches into my chest and gets my blood revved up. Girls are already on stage warming up tonight’s partiers and pumping excitement into the crowd so tangible I can feel the strokes against my skin like a lover’s touch. The platform is raised above the crowd with three poles for multiple strippers enclosed by a row of seats for the brave and horny looking to slip singles into barely-there thongs. I can see money is already starting to flow, and my heart pounds in my chest.

Beyond the stage seats are more discreet tables tucked away in the shadows and the reach of stage lights.

That’s where he sits every night, and each time I see the dean at his usual table, I take my place center stage and reveal every sweet, delicious curve of my body to him over and over. And he comes back for more. But when the sun comes up and he sees me in the halls of his school, it’s like the previous night never happened.

Only the familiar caress of his gaze raking over my body, the feel of his dark, controlling power brushing against me, his body heat reaching for me tells me he’s watching. When that happens—and I make sure it does every day—he turns away and closes his office door, breaking the enchantment.

It’s a cycle that is slowly driving me crazy.

Every night I’ve worked here, he’s never failed to be at the same table, another untouched drink in front of him with the same stoic expression on his face as he watches me take it all off. I wonder if he knows I do it all for him? Not at first, but it only took one time and after that I was as hooked as he was.

How could he know if I’ve never told him my body flushes with excitement when I feel his eyes take me in as I reveal the hard tips of my breasts? That the attention of no other man wets the strip of my thong? Only the feel of his gaze caressing my curves has that effect on me.

Habit squints my eyes into narrow slits as I peer into the darkness only to find his table empty. I won’t lie, not seeing him there makes my chest tighten painfully. Has he finally grown tired of our silent game? I don’t know how I feel about that so I don’t ponder on the thought more than a second.

I slip into the darkened corridor, leaving the party scene behind me for now and make an immediate right down a short hall ending in a dead end. Tucked behind a velvet red curtain is a black door with a keycard slot. I swipe my badge and push through with a discreet buzz.

Ten minutes is all it takes for me to peel off my ripped jeans and faded white V-neck T-shirt and slide into my ensemble—a gold, glittery number with a matching skintight wraparound short enough to let a little sexy cheek peek out from the bottom and perfect for teasing a crowd into a frenzy.

“Oh, babe, look at you! Damn, you’re gorgeous with all that California tanned skin!”

Sunset, a girl with honey golden hair with flaming orange tips and round, pink-tipped tits bursts through the door with a smile as she pulls singles, fives and the occasional twenty from the band of her G-string. Most girls don’t mind strangers touching them, but I never could get used to it. I’m a maverick compared to all the other girls and have to find creative ways to keep men from touching me when they want to give me money.

“Roll your eyes all you want. You’re gonna make your mystery man’s dick harder than steel tonight in that little number. I’m almost jealous. He makes broody look so fuckable.”

My brows shoot high but I can’t argue with her observation. “Tell me about it,” I murmur.

“Hmm-mm. He’s out there right now staring into his drink waiting for you—better get a move on.”

Something in me sighs just a little at the news. God, I’m so messed up it’s not even funny.

“I wish he’d do something about said hard dick,” I mumble more to myself than to anyone else.

“It’s good tonight, girls. Work those poles and shake what your momma gave ya tonight!” She waves her loot over her head before slipping into her robe and plopping her lush, sweaty body into a chair next to mine.

My phone dings, and I flick open the new email with the BU letterhead across the top as the club’s in-house stylist sets to work on my makeup.

My heart sinks to the floor among all the feathery boas and discarded nipple pasties.

Sunset’s dramatic eyebrows lift in worry. “What is it, Suga’? What’s wrong? Everything okay?”

I don’t think “okay” is remotely close to the word I would use to describe what I am right now.

Fucked royally, maybe. And with a cactus and no lube sounds about right.

I stare at the email and blink a couple more times. “I’m kinda overdue on my school payment and this is my second notice. One more and I’m out. I thought I would have the money today, but without our paycheck…” I press a hand to my forehead.

“It says I have to make my payment by Monday.” Tears threaten to ruin my fresh makeup as my stomach works through a couple of dry heaves.

“Whoa, there, sweetie. Take a couple of deep breathes. Do you have anything saved up? Can they take a partial?”

“It doesn’t work like that and yes, but I’m still short.” I read over the email one more time.

“You know I’d give you all my tips if I could?—”

“No!” I jump in before she can finish her thought. “Keep your money. You have two little ones who depend on you. I’ll figure this out somehow. Do you know when we’ll get paid? Did management say anything?” I ask as the stylist sets to work on my hair next. Within minutes I have luscious curls and sexy cat eyes that will rake in the money.

Hopefully.

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