Page 11 of Midnight Whispers

She frowns. “Not as busy as we’d like.”

Another shitty night? It’s been a pretty regular occurrence, which is why I took a second job bartending at Black Magic Bar. What I brought home from the strip club wasn’t enough for Louise. Online porn and a crappy economy have reduced the number of people who come out to see live dancers.

“I didn’t catch you before you left last night.” I hand a wad of bills to her.

Lisa recently left her abusive boyfriend, two small kids in tow, and has been hiding out in a shitty motel room the next county over. I overheard her telling one of the other girls that she only had enough for another week and no place to go.

“Cin, I can’t take this from you.” She pushes the cash back in my direction, but I shake my head and hold up my hands.

“Yes, you can. It will help you stay for another few nights.”

Her eyes grow glossy, and she pulls me in for a hug. Her costume’s sequins poke my skin. “Thank you so much. I won’t forget it.”

“It’s nothing. I don’t want you to go back to that asshole.”

She gives me a watery smile and nods. “You let me know if you ever need anything.”

“I will. I have to go do my makeup, or Trina’s going to have my ass.” I wink, and she laughs.

I plop down in front of my station and quickly put on my stage makeup—heavy silvery eyeshadow with dark fake eyelashes and severe black cat eye eyeliner, a heavy lip, and pink blush with a lot of highlighter to reflect the lights on stage. I run a brush through my hair again, wishing I had a few extra dollars this week to get it trimmed, but it’s worth going without so that Lisa and her kids stay safe.

As I set down my brush, Trina calls, “Cin, you’re up!”

I toss my belongings into my locker and rush through the change room past the other girls and over to the side stage, waiting to hear my intro. I’ll dance to one song on stage, then work the room for the second song, then return to the stage for the last one. After that, I’ll cool down, then go out to work the floor for lap dances or private shows in the VIP area. Then I’ll be back on stage a few hours later. My bones ache just thinking about the night ahead of me.

A slowed-down, reverb version of “Where Have You Been” plays, and the announcer starts my intro. I wait behind the stage, shaking out my arms to dissipate my nerves.

“Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourself for a tantalizing experience like no other as we welcome to the stage the embodiment of sensuality, the mesmerizing enchantress, the one and only, Cin!”

I rush the few stairs to the stage. The crowd claps and cheers, but it’s not nearly as loud as it used to be. I’ve danced here long enough to tell how many people are in the room just from the amount of applause. It’s going to be another hard night to earn enough tips to satisfy Louise plus have enough left over for me.

Walking down the runway, I accentuate the pivot of my hips and make eye contact with the men sitting in the front row. They’ll be the ones who will fork out the cash tonight.

I grab the pole with one hand and twirl around, spreading my legs to tease the men. The pole rests between my ass cheeks when I bend over to touch my ankles, so they imagine it’s their dick resting in the same spot.

When the bass kicks in on the chorus, I grab the pole with two hands and gyrate my hips with the music, smiling at the sea of men’s faces to judge who is the most interested so I can pay them special attention when I finish my set and head to the floor.

I stretch against the pole and pop down with my legs spread, crawling toward the man waving money. The lust in his eyes sends a surge of confidence through me, as does the knowledge that the men behind me are checking out my ass in this thong. When I reach the edge of the stage, I sit up and arch my chest toward him so that he can place the money between one of the strings of my outfit and my skin. He licks his lips, and I move on to the next man, crawling across the stage.

A tingling sensation roves over my body, a sense of someone watching me. With a sultry expression, I toss my hair over my shoulder and glance behind me. A man is sitting in a booth in the back corner, but he’s shrouded in shadows so I can’t see his face. I turn back to the men around the stage, but I can’t stop feeling him watch me collect money from the other men.

“Drive You Insane” comes on, and I make my way off the stage to work the crowd, grinding on men’s laps, teasing them, leaning in and presenting them with my cleavage that’s barely covered by the blue fabric. Most of the men are regulars and have already been warned about touching. The only touching that’s allowed is in the VIP area where you pay to play.

My attention flickers to the man in the back corner, trying to make him out. Although I can’t see him, I can feel him watching me, and for some reason, it’s turning me on.

By the time I’ve made my way almost around the entire room, the song changes to “Naughty Girl” by Beyoncé and I climb up on stage to remove the minimal clothing I’m wearing.

I used to remove my top in the first minute of the first song, but Trina taught me that it’s all about making them want it and not giving it to them right away. That’s what gets the dollars pried out of their sweaty palms and gets you an invite into the VIP room where you make real money.

I spin around the pole in a brass monkey, and my blonde hair sweeps across the floor. Then I do a few more moves before standing and hinting at removing the fabric over my breasts by tugging on the strings and holding them up. The men cheer, clapping to egg me on, and after teasing them a few more times, I slowly pull the straps down to reveal myself. They cheer, throw some money on stage, and I crawl over to collect it, stuffing it in my thong.

We’re not allowed to take our bottoms off—at least not in the front of the house.

When the song ends, I take the rest of my money and climb off stage. Before I step down the stairs, I take one last glance in the corner, wondering who the mystery man is.

Chapter

Six

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