by Vivian Ward
I’m doing everything I can do to stop myself from going in that dressing room, but my mind won’t shut off. I’ve already filled the napkins, put out fresh pretzels, wiped down the counters, and restocked the fridge. There’s, literally, nothing left to do.
Our DJ starts up music that I haven’t heard in ages, but I immediately recognize it. It’s Sapphire’s old music and the next thing I know, Melanie comes strutting out of the dressing room and walks right past the bar.
Mind blown.
She looks so fucking hot in Sapphire’s old costume. It consists of silky sapphire blue shorts that show off how round and bubbly Mel’s ass is, with just a little bit of her cheeks hanging out of the bottom. She’s wearing long, shiny white boots that go up to her knees with chunky heels. Her legs look absolutely amazing in those boots with those tiny silk shorts.
Her chestnut brown hair cascades down her back like a flowing river, tiny waves all over. What I wouldn’t do to grab her by her hair and pull her to me, and kiss her. I can feel myself getting hard beneath my jeans.
I follow close behind her, leaving Ginger to tend the bar, as I take a seat at a table near the stage. Normally, I don’t drink, but I ask Ginger to bring me a shot of tequila because I have a feeling that I’m going to need it tonight.
Right on cue, Mel takes the stage on the exact same note that Sapphire always got on stage and begins to dance. I probably know her routine better than she does because I watched Sapphire do it for so long.
The men are going crazy, hollering and gawking at her, and as much as I’d like make them stop, I can’t take my eyes off of her. She wraps her leg around the pole on center stage and slowly slides down it, twirling around the pole until she’s on the floor.
Lying on her back, flat on the floor with her hair spread around her, she looks like the hottest fucking angel I’ve ever seen. Her back arches, making her breasts rise, and I want to bury my face my in her perfect cleavage.
I don’t quite lose it until she turns over and gets on all fours, and starts seductively crawling over to the edge of the stage like a tigress on the prowl. I’ve never wanted to be hunted so badly in my entire life.
Her eyes focus on mine, and we maintain eye contact the entire time. Staring into her caramel colored eyes, I watch her as she stands up and slowly does the splits near the edge of the center stage. Slowly, she rubs her hands all over her body until she’s sitting completely upright, and all I can think of his amazing she would look straddling my cock.
When she gets to the bottom of her tiny shirt that’s knotted in between her breasts, she lifts it off and tosses it to the side, exposing the studded rhinestone bra that she’s wearing underneath.
A few men gather around her, tucking bills into her bra, but our eyes are locked and she’s staring at me the entire time. As she goes through her routine—that she’s down right fucking mastered—I forget that there are other people in the club with us. We’re completely focused on each other as she sways her hips around the pole and all I can think about is how hot it would be to grab onto them and have my way with her.
Her song only lasts four minutes, but it’s the most intense four minutes I’ve ever lived through and my cock is so fucking stiff that I can’t leave the table until after her routine is over.
Visions of her dancing continue flashing through my mind as I make my way back behind the bar to help Ginger fill a few orders. There are some things that can’t be unseen, and Melanie is definitely one of them.
After most of the guys surrounding the bar are served their drinks, Melanie comes out of the dressing room wearing her cocktail waitress outfit. Pinning her name tag to her shirt, she smiles at me.
“How’d I do? Did you like it?” she asks.
Is that a loaded question? I try to gather my thoughts before answering her, but I can’t get the images of her out of my mind.
She giggles, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Flustered, I run my hand through my hair. What the hell is going on? I’ve never had a woman have this type of effect on me. I’ve always been the playboy, the guy who could get any girl he wanted.
Right now, I want Mel in the worst way possible.
“Yeah, you did a great job, Mel. I was very impressed,” I say, taking another shot of tequila.
She walks right next to me and lingers for a moment, and all I can smell is her vanilla scented body lotion. She still has glitter on her cleavage from the sparkle glitter spray that she wore on stage.
Tiptoeing up to me, she leans in and whispers, “I saw you watching me.”
I don’t know what the hell got into her, but she has this certain seductiveness and confidence about herself that I’ve never seen before, but it’s sexy as hell.
Staring into her gorgeous eyes, I can’t respond because it’s true. Putting her lips next to my ear again she says, “It’s okay because I was watching you, too. So, can I be upgraded?”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and my cock goes hard again. I’ve never wanted a girl as bad as I want her. With a quick peck on the cheek, she grabs a tray and walks over to a table of guys who are practically drooling over her after watching her performance.
I want to upgrade her all right but not to stripper; though it doesn’t seem like I really have a choice. The guys loved her, she did a great job and I have no reason not to let her dance. If I said no, it would be obvious as to why and the last thing I need is for everyone to start talking more than they already are.
As she sits with the table of gentleman, she peeks over her shoulder at me, flashing me a grin before winking.
Chapter 17
Melanie
“Ann, is it okay if you keep an eye on Cam for about an hour for me today?” I ask her.
“Why? I mean, sure, you can bring him over, but I thought today was your day off.”
“Remember how Garrett’s been texting me? Well, he’s really starting to scare me with his threats, and I need to talk to Chase about it before things get out of hand.”
I can hear her scraping the batter out of her metal mixing bowl with her rubber spatula, and I know she’s cradling the phone with her neck and shoulder. There’s a brief pause before she says, “Bring him over here and go take care of your business. I can’t believe he’s being such an asshole. How long has it been since the two of you talked anyway?”
Sighing, I get up off my bed and walk over to my closet to start getting some clothes out so I can get ready.
“About two years?”
She makes a low whistling sound. “Girl, what’s his problem?”
She doesn’t know that I started dancing almost two weeks ago. I’d debated telling her but now I feel like it’s necessary. She needs to know what’s going on; she deserves to know.
“I don’t want you to be mad at me, okay?” I plead.
“Why would I be mad—oh, no. What did you do now?”
I wince because she knows me so well. I knew I should’ve just told her up front but I was afraid of what she’d say.
“I started dancing about two weeks ago, but Garrett was already sending me messages before that. I think he knows that I’m dancing now because his messages seem to indicate that.”
She’s silent for a moment as she processes what I’ve told her, and then she laughs.
“Are you kidding? You’re messing with me, right? You’re not really dancing, are you?”
“Yes,” I hiss. “I am, and I would’ve told you but I was afraid of what you’d think or say to me.”
“Girl, you’re crazy. Mel, you know that I love you no matter what you do. I’m sure you have a reason for doing what you do, and if you think it’s a good move, then I’ve got your back. One hundred percent.”
I feel so relieved. She’s not mad or judging me. This is why we’re best friends.
“Thank you so much, Ann. I was so worried, and I didn’t want to tell you what was going on but now I’m glad that I did.”
“To be honest, I’m kind of p
issed that you didn’t tell me up front because I’m your girl, but it is what it is,” she sighs. “So, when are you bringing my buddy over?”
“Let me get dressed real quick and throw his bag together,” I say, opening his dresser drawers.
“You don’t need to throw a bag together. He’s been here so much that I don’t need anything for him. I think most of his stuff is here.”
She’s right. I’m down to just a few outfits for him.
“Okay, let me throw on some clothes and I’ll be right over.”
I’ve barely had time to wash anything and all I have left is a loose pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder. It’ll have to do. I can wash laundry later tonight so Cam and I have clean clothes for the next week when I don’t have anything else to do because right now, I need to get to the club while no one else is there if I’m going to show up looking like a rag doll.
“Come on, Cam,” I say, pulling my hair into a loose ponytail. “We’re going to go over to Ann’s house for a bit.”
Without any hesitation, he grabs his trucks and follows me out the door. I just hope that when I get to the club, people haven’t started coming in yet because I look awful, but it’s early enough that I should be okay because they should be opening by the time I get there and there usually aren’t many customers during that time of day.
Pulling into the parking lot, it looks like a ghost town compared to when I normally work. There are only two cars here and Chase’s black SUV. Going out on a limb, I assume that it’s the day cook, Chase and maybe a customer.
I step out of the car and make a desperate attempt to push back my flyaways that have come loose from my ponytail during my drive over here. We’ve been having nice weather so I decided to ride with the windows down.
Reaching into the car, I lean across into the passenger seat, grab my bag, lock the doors and walk across the mostly empty parking lot. I remember the first day when I came here almost a month ago when Chase hired me and laugh at the thought that this could’ve possibly been a restaurant named The Pink Pouch. It’s so ridiculous.
The money has been paying off, though, and I’m so glad that he hired me. I’ve been able to get caught up on all of my utilities and have been putting money away for the mortgage. I’m just waiting to hear back from the bank to see what type of payment plan they want to put me on, but no matter what, I’ll be able to make those payments because of my job here and I’ll be forever grateful.
Part of me is torn because I don’t know what to do once I get caught up. I’d be a liar if I said that I didn’t like Chase, and I know that he likes me, but we can’t go there because of the work policy. I’m tempted to start looking for another job—one that pays better than what I made at the diner, but I know it’ll be a pay cut from here. The only reason I’d do it and take the pay cut to work a 9-5 is so that Chase and I can pursue an actual relationship.
There has been so much sexual tension building between the two of us that I’ve gone home with soaked panties on more than one occasion. He’s so fucking hot and I can’t help it.
I’m sure that he’s gone home and had to rub out a few of his own with the way I always brush against him when I’m behind the bar, or the looks that I give him when I’m on stage dancing. I make sure to lock eyes with him with nearly every song that I do. I want him to know that I’m thinking of him when I’m sliding down the pole and shaking my ass on stage.
It’s funny because I was so timid when I started working here but the girls have taught me that it’s okay to be myself and let my hair loose. I’ve really learned how to take charge of my situation and dominate my life instead of letting others dominate my life for me. It’s a liberating feeling and, along the way, I’ve learned not to take bullshit from anyone.
This includes Garrett.
I sort of feel like a chicken shit running to Chase to tell him what’s going on, but at the same time, I feel that he needs to know; not because he’s my bodyguard or anything, but because if Garrett comes in causing problems, Chase needs to know who he is and what he’s up to.
Opening the door, I notice the place is nearly empty. The day cook is in the kitchen, prepping food portions while listening to his horrible screamo music. He’s in his early 20’s and is the epitome of a punk rock screamo kid. His jet black hair is spiked in a mohawk, he’s tall and thin, lots of shitty tattoos covering his arms because he can’t splurge for a good artist, and he wears band t-shirts with a huge chain connecting his wallet to his jeans, but he’s nice and that’s what matters most.
He looks up and nods at me when he sees me walking past the bar.
“Hey, Judas,” I wave at him.
I’ve only met him a handful of times, and he seems okay but we don’t talk much.
“Hey,” he says, as he begins drumming imaginary drumsticks in the air to go with the song that he’s listening to.
I smile and shake my head as I walk down the small hallway that leads to Chase’s office. The door is shut, but it always is, so I give a quick couple of knocks before opening it.
He looks pissed off. His jaw is set tight and his hair is disheveled, but he gives a slight grin when he sees me.
“Hey, is this a good time?” I ask.
I’ve never seen him look like this, and I’m worried that this might not be the right time to tell him about my Garrett drama.
“Have a seat,” he opens his hand, motioning it toward the chair across from his desk. “How come you’re here? What’s going on?”
I take a seat in the chair and set my bag on the floor next to me, smiling at him as though it’ll make my news sound less bad than it actually is.
“I, um, needed to talk to you about something that’s been going on.”
He sets his pencil down on his desk and his face hardens again. “What’s been going on? Are you having problems with one of the guys?”
I can tell that he’s concerned and he looks eager to take care of my problem—too eager, maybe. I swallow hard because I’m afraid to tell him what’s going on but he needs to know.
“Yes, and no. Well, not exactly,” I stutter. “I, uh, it’s my ex.”
His eyebrow arches and he tilts his head, interested to hear what I’m going to say so I continue.
“I know that I shouldn’t bring my drama to work, and I’m really trying not to, but he’s been texting me—,”
“Texting you? What does he want? Does he want you back?”
His face turns to hard stone with that last question, and I almost want to laugh at the thought of Garrett and me getting back together, but I know I need to keep this serious.
“No, he started texting me a few weeks ago. At first, it was things like he heard where I was working and that I’d better quit, but lately, this texts have gotten very threatening and I’m just afraid that—”
He picks his pencil back up and wraps both of his hands around the pencil. “What do you mean he’s been threatening you? What’s he been saying? Do you need me to stay at your place to make sure you’re safe?”
The thought of Chase offering to stay at my place makes me smile. I know he cares, and I also know that he would mess Garrett up. The two of them are built about the same, but Chase seems protective of me and would probably do a lot of damage to him, but I don’t want to cause trouble or want anyone going to jail.
Chapter 18
Chase
“No,” Mel suppresses a smile. “At first, I blew off his messages, I just thought whatever, but lately he’s gotten bolder.”
“What’s he saying?”
I swear to god, if this guy is terrorizing her anymore than he already has, I will crush his skull. I’ve never murdered anyone, but there’s a first time for everything.
“Initially, he was just saying things like I’d better quit, but now he’s threatening to come up here and drag me off the stage.”
That would be a first—and last—time at a failed attempt to ever drag one of my girls off the stage, especia
lly Mel. If he ever came near her, he’d better be prepared to deal with me. I’d stop him in a heartbeat.
She looks so vulnerable chewing her lip as she sits across from me. I want to grab her beautiful face, kiss her and bite that lip.
“Mel, you don’t have anything to worry about. I’ll handle this, and you did the right thing coming to me. You’re safe, okay?”
“I’m really sorry,” she says. “I didn’t want to bring this drama to you or to work, but I feel like if he’s threatening to come up here to start trouble that you should know.”
I can tell this guy scares her and it pisses me off. I’m not sure what he did to her in the past but I can promise it won’t happen ever again as long as I’m around.
“Can I ask you something personal, Mel?” She nods her head. “What happened between you two? You only told me about your current life with your kid and the babysitter, but what happened with you and your ex?”
She begins picking at her nails, hesitating, like she doesn’t want to tell me but then she opens up and starts telling me everything. I hate hearing how he practically locked her away like she was a fairy tale princess, but I’m going to make sure that I set her free—for good.
By the time she’s done with her story, she’s practically in tears and I feel awful that she endured his abuse and bullshit. It makes me want to crush his skull without him doing another thing to her.
“I’m sorry, Mel. I had no idea things were that bad with him and that’s why you never finished school.”
It’s partially true. I’d overheard her talking to her co-worker at the diner, but now that I have the whole story, I want to put his head through a sheet of plate glass.
“Yeah, so that’s why I’m here. I’m doing everything I can, but sometimes it’s not good enough. You have no idea how much this job means to me and how grateful I am to be here earning the money that I need.”
Still sobbing, I offer to take her upfront to get a bottled water from the bar to calm her down. I don’t want her driving back home while she’s so upset over everything. She’s visibly shaking, and I can tell that she’s worried about him coming up here. I don’t know whether or not she thinks he’ll hurt her, but it won’t happen on my watch.
