Page 6 of Valley

I made my rounds and didn’t see any problems to deal with at the moment, so I leaned against the wall to watch the floor.

The room went silent as the spotlight landed on the stage; the anticipation clear on every man’s face in the room. Tony the announcer’s voice boomed, “Get ready for a treat, gentlemen. This is Mandy’s last performance tonight, and she’s feeling very wicked!”

I leaned against the wall, curious to see what would capture the attention of the entire room. The men around me fell silent, their eyes fixed on the stage. The song ‘Wicked Things’ played, and the curtain rose, revealing a single chair in the center, facing away from the audience. A woman sat on it; her body hidden beneath a man’s shirt.

As she moved, leaning back over the chair, her long blonde hair cascaded down her back. My breath hitched, a sense of familiarity washing over me. It couldn’t be, but then she stood, and I recognized those long, sexy legs that had starred in every high school fantasy I’d ever had. My pulse raced as she turned around, and there she was:

Madeline Wolfe.

She moved with the music, her body flowing with perfect precision. She wasn’t raunchy like the other dancers; instead, she exuded a raw, sensual energy that made every man in the room forget to breathe. I watched, entranced, as she slowlyunbuttoned her shirt, revealing a black lace bra that barely contained her full breasts.

She turned around, grinding her hips against the chair as she slid the shirt off her shoulders. Her ass was perfect, round and firm, wrapped in a pair of skimpy black panties. The surrounding men groaned, showing how turned on they were with their ragged breaths and hungry eyes.

But I remained silent, my heart pounding in my chest, my cock so fucking hard it had to be visible, but at this moment I didn’t give a shit.

Every one of her graceful movements was drilling itself into my brain, my fantasies, her presence filling the room. She wasn’t just a stripper on a stage; she was an enchantress, weaving a spell that held every man captive.

Her eyes met mine suddenly, and I felt a jolt of electricity coursing through me as if we were the only two people in the room. They held the familiar icy blue hue, stark against her porcelain skin, which was glistening under the spotlight’s sheen. Her gaze bore into mine and suddenly, it was as if we were back in our shared years of high school, our eyes always catching and lingering on each other.

On the beat of the sultry music, Madeline descended around the chair, her silhouette bathed in blue light that highlighted every curve of her body. As she swayed with the rhythm, her blonde hair swishing like liquid gold, I found myself lost in the deep pools of her eyes. They were torrents of blue, ready to drown any man brave enough to look into them.

And tonight, I was one brave son of a bitch.

The others saw only the erotic sway of her hips and the sexy curve of her body. Their desires were as plain as the crude comments they muttered to each other. But for me, there was something more, something that had lingered in the depths ofmy heart ever since high school. It was more than just lust; it was a deep-rooted infatuation.

With a flick of her wrist, she untied the lace that held her bra together. For a brief moment, the black fabric hung in place, heightening the suspense before falling to the floor. The men around me heaved and whistled, tossing bills onto the stage. She reached for her chest, holding her breasts in her hands before releasing them. Her skin sparkled under the lights, bathed in a rosy glow that left little to the imagination.

“Fuck.” I growled, my hand reaching for my hard cock before realizing I was in a public place. With one last sultry smile at the room, the curtain dropped, and it was over. I gave my head a shake to bring myself back to reality and went out back to let my body cool down.

Holy fuck, she was gonna be a problem.

THE INTENSE GAZEfrom the corner was so powerful it drewmy eyes without a fight. My heart raced when I saw it was Jarrod Warner, and I couldn’t look away. Those deep, brown eyes of his always did something to me—always had.

It felt like they could see right through me, uncovering the secrets I kept buried under layers of self-preservation. The music, the noise, the flashing lights of the club—all of it faded into the background, leaving just him and me in that moment. A moment I never thought I’d have again.

I made my way off the stage, my body still humming with the energy of the dance, but inside, a cold wave of embarrassment washed over me. The adrenaline that had coursed through my veins moments ago now seeped away, replaced by a sinking feeling that twisted in my stomach. This wasn’t how I wanted to meet the guy I’d dreamed about long after high school.

My cheeks flushed, imagining what he must be thinking. Probably the same thing all the men who came to this club had: dancers were easy, fair game for a quick toss in the sheets. But the thought of him seeing me like this, in this place, it cut deeper than any judgment from a stranger.

This wasn’t the version of me I wanted him to remember.

It shouldn’t have surprised me to see him here, not after finding out Kaven, aka Midnight, worked here. Those two had been inseparable in high school, along with Kezia, Jarrod’s girlfriend, and my casual friend. I was always so jealous of her because she had Jarrod, but also confused because he was always watching me all the time, and to be fair, I only knew because I was watching him too.

When I was cheering at football games, I could feel his intense gaze on me, even when he was sitting in the stands with Kezia. It was like a silent conversation that neither of us had the courage to voice. We were drawn to one another, there was no denying it, but I wasn’t that girl, and until he was single, I wasn’t about to go there.

When Kezia died, it was a shock to everyone and terribly tragic. I never really saw Jarrod again. He kind of justdisappeared, as if her death had taken a part of him with it. The idea of him reappearing now, where I worked, filled me with a mix of excitement and dread.

What was he thinking of me?

Did he even remember me?

Would he talk to me?

What would I say if he did?

The questions swirled in my mind, leaving me more unsteady than I’d like to admit. His presence already making me act like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Silly and insecure.

“You okay?” Margie asked, coming into the room. She had been a friend over the last year that I’d worked here. I felt safe letting her into my life, something you had to be careful of in this environment.

---