by Lexie Ray
“You seen my panties?” I asked Cocoa, pulling the covers back from the bed and even checking beneath it.
“I see that pale ass sticking up in the air, but no panties,” Cocoa joked.
“Son of a bitch!” I exclaimed. “Emil stole my panties!”
Cocoa looked at me, her face blank, before she burst into deep belly laughter.
“Looks like you made such an impression on him that he wanted to take home a little souvenir,” she said, slapping her knees as she fought for control, tears of mirth running down her cheeks.
I couldn’t help but laugh about it, too. Emil was likely long gone, and I’d probably never see him again. Plus, it tickled me to see how amused Cocoa was by the whole thing.
“I’m going to moon you all night long,” I promised her, giving up on the search and pulling on my skirt, sans panties. Going commando was doable, but I’d have to go out and get new panties to match my pretty blue bra.
“Blue moon,” she said, launching into a fresh round of chortles.
When we got back downstairs, Mama flashed me a happy smile and gave me two thumbs up. It was apparent that Emil had sung my praises before leaving. I wondered if Mama had any idea that he’d made off with my panties.
The dull ache of sex was even more delicious without panties as I picked up a couple of drink orders at the bar, mixing two martinis and serving them to one of the girls to take to a table.
Life at Mama’s nightclub was fun, I decided, and I was going to be able to save up tons of cash for art school.
How wrong I was.
Chapter Three
Thinking back on the “good old days,” as we called them, at Mama’s nightclub was almost as painful as the drama we were enduring now. We still laughed and joked around, me leading this effort. But it was nothing like it used to be.
We used to be happy, a closely knit sisterhood of girls living and working together.
Now, it was fear that bound us together. We were afraid of Mama whether she was drunk or sober. We were squirreling away all the money that we could without arousing her suspicions, keeping it in shoeboxes and underwear drawers. We had reached a crisis point, and everyone knew it, even if we tried to keep up the illusion of everything being under control.
It wasn’t. We were right on the edge.
Everything had started going downhill after Jazz left. I hadn’t known Jazz like Cocoa had, so it was no surprise when Cocoa became quieter, more reserved, an undercurrent of worry coloring her every word. The only person who had witnessed the terrible situation was Cocoa, but all of the girls knew the gist of it. It was horrible to try to piece together the details, especially for the trio of girls who’d been deployed to clean up the room.
“There was so much blood,” Daisy said, shaking her head. “We had to throw the sheets out.”
But then, when Mama had driven Cocoa out of the window, everyone knew exactly what had happened. The broken glass, the bullet hole in the hallway carpet, Mama’s apparent descent into madness—everyone got worried. Girls started to leave, slipping away quietly, and the rest of us were doing all we could to pick up the slack without Mama noticing anything was any different.
The one time that there was some semblance of normalcy was when the nightclub was open. It became something of a relief to be focused on working. Mama put her best face on, negotiating cutthroat prices for the pleasure of our company as we all did our part to impress.
It was fun to watch all the other girls flirt and wait on our customers—that is, when I got the chance to watch. I was usually one of the busiest of Mama's girls, mixing all manner of drinks and slinging them onto trays. Each girl tipped me out at the end of the night, and I gave part of it to Mama. I'd always hated the idea of not holding on to my own money, but she was pretty adamant about "keeping it safe." I saw what "keeping it safe" bought Mama—fine dresses and facials and manicures. If one of us wanted to go buy some stuff, we'd make a withdrawal. But never more than a hundred bucks. That rule was instituted after Cocoa left.
God, I missed Cocoa. I missed how easily she handled Mama and hated how I had to now try to fill her shoes.
I sometimes wish I'd jumped right out the window after Cocoa rather than stay here. Here was getting too hard to be.
"Hey Blue, baby!"
I shook myself from my moping and grinned. It was Jake Fraser, or—as his business cards read—J-Fray, DJ Extraordinaire. He was one of two DJs Mama grudgingly allowed to spin at the nightclub. Mama was old-fashioned in her musical tastes, so it was always a pleasure for it to be club music night. The customers were often younger—and cuter—too, and more girls would dance. Everyone's spirits were higher on club music night—mine included.
My reasons had less to do with the music, though.
"Hey baby, yourself," I said, grinning and sliding him a beer. "How's it hanging?"
"You know how it hangs, here," Jake said, leaning against the bar and taking a long pull from his beer. "Lots of gorgeous ladies, dancing to the beats I spin. I can't complain, Blue, except I wish I could see you shaking it out there."
"Baby, if I shook it out there, everyone would go thirsty," I said with a wink.
"There are other bartenders," Jake said, looking at two of my colleagues. "They can spare you, can't they?"
"It's hard to be down the best bartender," I said, casually buffing my nails on my uniform blouse.
"I know the real reason Mama keeps you behind the bar," Jake said, leaning close.
"I wish you'd tell me." I watched Jake's dark eyes sparkle, looked at the latest designs he'd had his barber etch into the sides of his hair. He was built, spending every free moment in the gym, and he didn't mind telling anyone about it. I liked him all the same—all of us girls did. He was sexy and flirtatious and always knew which songs were the best. Some girls would make requests, and he was always thoughtful enough to fulfill them.
"If you were out on the floor, no one else would be making any money," Jake said, kissing me quickly on my lips.
I jerked away, laughing. "We all make money together," I said, batting my eyes at him. "That's how it works. I do my part, just like every other girl."
"You're the jewel in Mama's crown," Jake said, his smile white in the lights of the club.
"I think you're trying to butter me up, mister," I said, watching as the crowd of customers started filling the tables. "You're already drinking for free tonight, so I can't possibly guess what else you might want out of me."
"I bet you could guess," Jake said, looking me up and down suggestively before sauntering off to the stage.
I rolled my eyes at both him and myself. My cheeks were flushed bright red at the attention—you'd think I'd never had a man flirt with me. Jake was a noted Casanova, and several of the girls had enjoyed his company free of charge. He was young, sexy, and more desirable than the vast majority of the men the girls regularly had to service. Plus, he was a hell of a DJ.
He started his set, standing on stage, the lights pulsating and swiveling to the beat of the bass. Instantly, the atmosphere of the entire nightclub shifted. Girls relaxed, dancing from table to table. I laughed out right to see one of Shimmy's regulars grab her and drag her out to the dance floor. She did part of the dragging herself. The girl loved to dance. Even sweet little Pumpkin became a different person, swaying that ass like a flesh-coated pendulum.
Jake's driving beat helped us forget who we were and the challenges we were facing. They forced us into a constant present, driving away all of our worries in order to embrace the rhythm of the music. The music was a blessing in disguise.
I danced with my fellow bartenders. We all three worked well together, never bumping or getting into one another’s way. When we danced and worked the bottles, though, we became a show in and of ourselves. I’d taught them both everything they knew about both making drinks and putting on a show with the glasses and bottles. We occasionally got up on the bar and juggled the bottles of liquor, tossing them to one another.
/> We hadn’t done it recently, though, because it always increased Mama’s blood pressure to see her precious liquor being thrown around. Usually, though, it was quite the crowd pleaser.
Every time Jake put on a song that the girls recognized, a cheer went up around the nightclub. Our enthusiasm was highly contagious, and customers soon got into the spirit. If it were up to me, Jake would DJ every single night. He was easy on the eyes and easier on the ears. He made us forget all of our troubles.
One of my favorite songs cycled into Jake’s repertoire, and I led the whoop, shaking my ass for all it was worth. I caught Jake grinning at me from the stage and lifted my skirt, flashing my ass at him suggestively. I could hear his shout of surprise and delight all the way to the bar. It was a great night to be wearing a thong.
Even Mama looked like her old self, allowing herself to be taken to the dance floor by one of the regular customers and dancing, her dangerous curves shaking all over the place. I saw Shimmy stiffen and edge away from Mama. There were some things that couldn’t be forgotten, apparently, in spite of Jake’s music.
He finished his set to a ton of applause and cheers, a solid portion of the appreciation coming from us girls. Jake set the system to play popular hits and hopped down from the stage before making his way to the bar. I had his beer already opened for him and wrapped in a napkin when he got there.
“Thanks, Blue,” he said, drinking deeply. He was sweating heavily, so I tossed him a clean towel.
“Sounding good, baby,” I said, leaning against the bar. I loved flirting with Jake. He parried every thrust I made and then some. “You been practicing?”
“Every day,” he said, nodding and wiping the cold bottle against his forehead.
“That’s how I treat pleasuring myself,” I said as casually as if I had been making comments about the weather. I leaned forward to give Jake an extremely nice view of my cleavage. “I’m kind of an expert by now. Practice every day.”
“Now that’s something I’d like to see,” Jake said, leaning closer to me. I could’ve kissed him, if I wanted to badly enough, was how close we were, even though there was a bar separating us. “Tell me. Do you cry out when you come, even if you’re all by yourself?”
I bit my lip suggestively, leaning forward to put my lips against his ear. “Every. Single. Time.”
I smiled as I leaned back, enjoying the way he was licking his lips. I loved to push Jake’s buttons, even if all we ever did was flirt. I didn’t mind. He kept my wit sharp.
“And what is it that turns you on so much?” he asked, tracing the outline of my hand, pressed against the surface of the bar. Every time his finger grazed mine, I shivered.
“This and that,” I said coyly. “Lots of things. Different things. Sometimes, my own body. Sometimes, the thought of someone else’s body. The thought of him pushing into me. The thought of us, coming together.”
I stared at him, lowering my eyelids to half-mast, throughout my breathy speech, aware that we were really pushing our flirting this time. I didn’t care. I was surprised at how remarkably turned on I was by this dirty talk. Jake seemed to be enjoying himself as much as I was.
“I know what I’m going to think about my next time,” Jake said, using the same casual voice as I had. He’d stopped tracing the outline of my hand and was stroking the back of it from my wrist to the tips of my fingernails.
“You wanna talk about it?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “Maybe we can both think about it, the next time. Come together, even if we’re far apart.”
Jake grinned, leaning closer so he could whisper in my ear.
“That gorgeous, milk-white, perfect ass of yours,” he whispered. “Peeling that pretty little thong off of it. Licking every inch of it. Spanking it for being so naughty.”
I couldn’t help the way my body responded to Jake’s words, pressing my thighs together, trying to relieve the pressure that was building between my legs.
When he leaned back to gauge the reaction he’d had on me, I was glad about flashing my ass at him while he was on stage. We were both turning each other on.
“I think you’re up for your next set, Romeo,” I teased, lifting my chin up behind him. He turned to see Mama beckoning to him.
“We’ll have to pick up this riveting conversation later, then,” he said, looking me up and down before finishing his beer and walking over to join Mama.
I smiled as I made drinks, opened beers, and poured shots. It was a good night. Jake and I had always had a strange, almost electrically sexual without having sex relationship since we’d met for the first time about six months ago, when he first started playing gigs at Mama’s nightclub. We were at ease with each other, even as he slept with some of Mama’s girls. I didn’t mind one bit. I had never been a jealous person. It simply wasn’t worth it to try to own another human being. Jake was free to do whatever—or whomever—he wanted, and so was I.
Jake’s second set was even better than the first. The dance floor was packed with customers and girls alike, all grinding up on one another and getting sweaty. More and more girls were pairing off with customers and leading them upstairs, though it didn’t seem to empty out the dance floor any. I hoped Mama realized how much money Jake was helping the nightclub make through his awesome beats. She should really ask him to work more often.
At the end of the set, I grinned happily when Jake came back over. He practically chugged the beer I held out for him in one breath.
“Do you feel the atmosphere in here?” he said, plucking at his shirt and pulling it away from his body to maximize the airflow beneath it. When he did so, I could see glimpses of his legendary muscles.
“It’s hotter than hot,” I said, making sure he knew I wasn’t talking just about the atmosphere. “Maybe you should take that silly thing off. You’d probably be a lot more comfortable.”
“I will as soon as you take me up to a room,” he said, grinning at me and wiggling his eyebrows lecherously.
I laughed at him. “I don’t think Mama would be very happy if I absconded with her DJ in the middle of the night,” I said.
“I think you’d find Mama all too willing,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
I craned my neck to see around him and was surprised to see Mama smiling at me, giving me two thumbs up. My mouth dropped open, shocked, as I focused on Jake again.
“Did you pay for the pleasure of my company?” I asked him, dumbfounded.
It was his turn to laugh at me. “I sure did,” he said. “I hope nobody noticed the boner you gave me before my second set. It was all I could do to spin with that thing. You were the only thing I could think of. I told Mama that if she wanted a set worth a damn, she’d accept my money and let me take a little break with you upstairs.”
Pleasure started to quickly replace my shock. I licked my lips and leaned toward his ear again.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” I said. “I would’ve slept with you free of charge.”
Jake smiled. “You’re worth every penny I paid,” he said. “And I wanted to abide by the rules. God help me if Mama ever finds out that I’ve tasted her girls for free.”
I laughed at that. “God would be the only one who could help you.”
I took his hand when he held it out and gracefully jumped on top of the bar before hopping down on the other side. I couldn’t help my happy, almost lovesick grin as I led him upstairs, still holding his hand. I also couldn’t help but notice several very envious stares from some of Mama’s girls.
“I think I’m getting a lot of hate for this,” he said as we climbed the stairs.
“Hate that they’re not me, that’s all,” I said. “And who can blame them?”
I couldn’t help the pounding of my heart as I got us into the first available bedroom. It was all done up in blues.
“Perfect,” he said, smiling. “Blue like Blue.”
“Let me freshen up in the bathroom for a moment,” I said automatically. It was what all of us were taught
to do before servicing a customer. “You make yourself comfortable out here.”
“Right on,” Jake said, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking around the room.
I shut myself in the bathroom, turning the lights on and staring at my reflection in the mirror. Why was I so nervous? This was no different from anything that I’d done before.
As soon as I thought that, I knew I was wrong. This was different from what I’d done before. I actually liked Jake, and was shocked at the fact that he paid to sleep with me. I knew of at least three other girls he hadn’t paid for. Why hadn’t he simply absconded with me at the end of the night? Mama’s place wasn’t a prison. I could leave for the night as long as I was back in time for work the next day.
I blushed as I took my clothes off, thinking about the implications of everything. He said I was all I could think about, that I’d sent him on stage for his second set sporting an erection. The thought made me smile. Maybe Jake liked me as much as I liked him.
The lingerie set I had on tonight was a subtle green number, the shades ranging from emerald to sea foam, artfully blended across the material. The bra matched the thong. All of us girls did that. It was Mama’s preference that we looked as good under our uniforms as we did with them on.
I shook my hair out of its sloppy little bun, pleased that it fell down over my shoulders in waves. I’d had it in braids the previous night, enjoying the way my hair held onto its style from day to day. It looked like I’d just gotten out of bed. I tousled it some more, giving it additional volume.
With a practiced flick of my wrist, I opened the drawer just below the countertop and withdrew the lube. I always used it every time I had a customer, ever since Cocoa had told me that I should. It always made me think of her a little bit as I slicked myself up, which was kind of weird. She’d always looked out for me—for all of us. There were some days I missed her so much it was like a hole inside me, but then I made sure to text her as soon as I was done with work to ask her how everything was going. She’d sent me a sleek little phone, and we kept in contact on it. It was quicker and easier than writing letters, but I still maintained a veritable army of pen pals in spite of my new technology.
