Page 14 of Midnight Whispers

The small show of affection leaves me with glossy eyes and a tight throat because I’m so unaccustomed to it. “You’re welcome.”

I sit in front of one of the mirrors to get ready. Once my hair is curled and placed up in a high ponytail, I do my makeup, then slip into the white thong and sheer halter with rhinestones. I step into my heels and wait for my turn side stage.

Trina is watching from the side of the stage. “Your man’s here.” She grins.

Though I know who she’s talking about, I pretend otherwise. “I don’t have a man, Trina.”

She rolls her eyes. “That man sits in the same seat every night you perform, and he leaves straight after. He’s only here for you, which makes him your man.”

I want to insist she’s wrong, but the DJ starts with my introduction.

“Ladies and gentleman, get ready to be captivated with every sway of her hips and bounce of her tits. Up next, we have the electrifying Cin!”

The crowd cat-whistles as I step up the few stairs and out onto the stage. Tonight, I’m doing a set with a little more energy, so “Kickstart my Heart” by Motley Crue plays, and I start on the pole with a more aerobic routine.

One glance at the back booth tells me “my man” is indeed shrouded in the shadows. I can’t help but look at his figure as I move off the pole and pay attention to the men front and center.

When “Cherry Pie” by Warrant starts, I move to the floor, rubbing myself on anyone who’s willing and has cash in hand. I come across more than one erection pressed against my ass, but they do nothing for me. Still, I play along to siphon more cash from them. All the while I’m more than aware of having his eyes on me.

Finally, when “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard starts, I climb up on the stage to slow my routine down and tease the men by slowly revealing my top. My performance goes well, and I leave the stage with a stack of cash. Still, it’s not enough for what I need, which means I’m going to have to work hard to get some lap dances or get someone back into the VIP room.

“Good show,” Trina says as I pass her while coming down the stairs.

I smile at Lisa, who’s waiting to do her routine, and I head off in search of some water and a towel to dry the sweat off my body.

Ten minutes later, I’ve changed into my second outfit—a schoolgirl costume complete with a plaid tie that matches the too-short skirt revealing a black thong under. I’m just hiking the black stockings up to mid-thigh when Trina approaches with a wide smile.

“Your presence has been requested in VIP room number one.” Her eyes glitter with excitement.

My head rocks back. “Really? One of the regulars?”

It’s unusual to score a VIP room before I’ve left backstage.

She shrugs. “Not sure. Eric just came and told me. Said he’d be waiting there.”

Eric is one of the bouncers who works the VIP rooms and stays outside in the hallway in case any trouble goes down. Patrons have to make arrangements with him to have a dancer join them in a room.

“I’m on it.” I check my hair and makeup one last time, then give my boobs a hike up in the tiny black sports bra I’m wearing under the tie before making my way out of the dressing area.

“Remember,” Trina says before I pass by. “When their dick is hard, their brain is soft. Go get that money, honey.”

I laugh and make my way out. My eyes have to adjust to the lights in the club once I’m in the front of the house since it’s dim here with lots of neon signs throughout the space.

A quick glance at the booth in the back tells me that the mystery man is gone. I curb my disappointment. Maybe one of these days he’ll stick around, and I’ll get to see who he is.

“Room number one?” I ask Eric as I pass him.

He nods. “I think you can fleece him for a lot.”

I stop and turn to face him. “What makes you say that?”

“You’ll see.” He smirks and winks.

Curiosity piqued, I twist the doorknob and push open the door, coming to an abrupt stop.

It’s the mystery man. I’m not sure how I exactly know it’s him, but I do.

Worse yet, it turns out my mystery man is Nero, my stepsister’s ex-fiancé. Interesting that he comes here and watches me every night. Memories of the dance we shared, the feel of his hand on the small of my back. God, his smile. His amazing, sweet smile that Maude was so undeserving of. And now he’s here.

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