by Davida Lynn
My heart raced, because I knew I was going to do something against the rules. I had to in order to get Tanner in the palm of my hand. I brought my fingers down to the button-up that only hung on by the knot near my navel. With a quick flick, the shirt fell down, completely open and revealing my purple bra. I arched my body back, letting the shirt fall to the floor.
Straddling him, I next unhooked the skirt, unwrapping it from my curves. I let it fall behind me while never taking my eyes off of Tanner. He watched every little movement, drinking me in. After I brought his hands up to my body, he didn't back off. He touched, squeezed, and pushed the boundaries more each second. With any other customer, I would have had him on his knees in pain.
Tanner was getting nice and friendly, though. I pictured all his biker friends out on the main floor, laughing and carrying on about how he was in here fucking a stripper. They weren’t having nearly as much fun as he was.
I brought my hands down his chest, taking in his muscles as I got lower and lower. When I reached his belt, I looked at him with the Kitty Kat eyes and kept going down.
Unbuttoning his jeans, I glanced back at the curtain, but I knew Darius wouldn’t check up on us. He knew I could handle myself, and if I couldn’t, he’d be waiting to hear me call for him. Tanner and I had all the privacy we needed.
His eyes never left me as I began to stroke his manhood. His hands found my breasts, but it wasn't long before he was too distracted to focus on anything but my touch while I worked my magic on the tough biker.
I sat beside Tanner, my head on his shoulder. “Come back and see me.”
“You bet.” He really was a man of few words, but I could hear the truth in them.
I smiled at him. “Really? Because I don’t do that for customers. I think you’re something special.”
I knew I wasn’t giving the greatest speech in history, but I thought it would be enough. Tanner didn’t strike me as the kind of man who needed convincing. He was the kind who had a feeling in his gut and went with it.
“Yeah. I think you’re special, too. When do you work next?” It was hard to hear emotion in his voice, but he was saying more than he had all night.
It was the question I’d been waiting to hear. Normally, it was the promise of a return customer, but it meant more now. It meant the return of the man that I thought could protect me. The man I needed to protect me.
I squeezed his thigh. “I work again on Wednesday, but that’s a slow night. The weekends are my busy days.”
“Wednesday it is. I have some stuff to take care of with the club, but I’ll be by later in the evening. What time do you work ‘til?” I listened to his deep voice booming as I lay on his chest. It was calming, and I knew he’d be the perfect guard for me. He set my soul at ease, which was a welcomed relief after months of stress and worry.
“‘Til one in the morning.”
He nodded, his head barely moving. “I’ll be by at midnight.”
We both knew that we had to get back to the real world, and after I stood up and threw the naughty schoolgirl outfit back on, I dug the money out of my bra. Taking his large hand, I put the bills back into his palm.
He tried to hand them back. “Come on, now. You earned this.”
I tied the bottom of the shirt back up, smiling, “I did that for free. Besides, you can spend that money on me Wednesday.” It pained me to turn away the money. I could see the bills piling up by turning the cash down, but I had to give him the illusion that he was special.
I let him head out first, after he had tucked his t-shirt back into his pants. I had every confidence that Tanner would be back on Wednesday, ready to spend some real money. That was when things would move up to the next level.
I did my second two dances and could have stuck around for a few lap dances, but I wanted to get out of the club. It had become a stressful place of confusion. Seeing Jason in the audience had upset my whole night. It put me into this animalistic place, and I had pounced on Tanner. He was big and strong, and if I played my cards right, he’d protect me when the time came.
I felt a little bad knowing I was manipulating him, but I don't think any of my coworkers would blame me. When your profession requires that you are a petite girl stripping and over-sexualizing yourself in front of strangers, there were inherent risks.
Some of my girlfriends carried Tasers, others pepper spray. Some of the less fortunate girls were caught up in bad relationships, the kind that lasted and brought kids into the mess. Those women often came into work lost in their own thoughts or high on something to numb the pain. It was enough to wash the soul away. I knew what it was like.
My time with Jason had been hot, but the flame had burned out in a flash, leaving just the scars of pain, mistrust, and fear. Jason had met me at a strip club, fallen for me, then immediately became jealous of any man that laid his eyes on me. In my line of work, that was a problem.
My phone would be filled with texts, and he’d begun pressuring me to quit. With a mountain of debt over my head from college, there was no way I was going to leave the best job I’d ever found. He didn’t like that answer at all.
Jason had never been violent with me, but there were many times when I thought he could snap at any moment. Our last month together, I feared for my safety. It was Alana that convinced me to end the relationship. She knew things were bad, and she could also see that I was trapped. She was the kind of woman who didn’t stand for anything, and she was very outspoken when she saw someone else being treated badly.
Jason was a cop with a great reputation on the force. I was just a local stripper. If anything happened, I would have nowhere to stand. He made it clear that he could make life very difficult for me. I believed him. He was already doing a good job of that. He’d taken what could have been a great night and turned it into a nightmare. I was ready to go to sleep and forget everything that had happened.
When I left for the night, though, I realized the nightmare wasn’t over.
Harvey sat parked in the gravel driveway next to a few of the other girls’ cars. He was the only car I’d ever owned, a worn out 1994 Toyota Corolla. He looked like he’d been through several hailstorms and a mosh pit or two, which was where the name came from: Harvey Dent.
It didn't matter how bad he looked; Harvey was my car, and I loved him. As soon as I walked outside, I saw he had a few new battle scars. The orange streetlamp reflected the message carved into the hood in perfect detail.
CHARITY
My head spun in all directions, and my heart surged. I panicked, thinking that Jason would jump from behind one of the cars and attack me. I expected to see his truck, or even his squad car come barreling into the parking lot. My heart was pounding at a thousand miles an hour, and sweat was forming at my brow even in the cool early morning air.
The night was still as glass, and I knew that at any moment, it could shatter. My breath was steaming in front of me, floating up into the Bakersfield night. I dug out my keys and swore at my hands for shaking.
Key in hand, I stepped into the gravel lot. I should have run back inside to get Darius. He would have escorted me to the car with no problem, but I just wanted to get into my car and go. I wanted to get home and bolt the door. I wanted a stiff drink and to fall into bed. I wanted to do anything but think about Jason.
With my bag clutched to my chest, I ran for my car, unlocked it, and peeled out of the Cherry Stem’s lot. I hated myself for thinking of it, but I considered not only a career change, but the thought that I might have to move out of Bakersfield altogether. Jason had turned the town I loved into a dark place.
With the door to my apartment locked, I did feel safer, but not by much. After a glass of cheap red wine, I relaxed and retreated into my bedroom. I loved keeping the window open, especially on chilly nights, but Jason had taken that away from me, too.
I laid in bed, thinking of Jason and Tanner. In some ways, they were very similar. Both were strong, quiet men capable of anything, but there had been something in the way t
hat Tanner looked at me that was the complete opposite of how Jason did.
When I’d first met Jason, he had looked at me with hungry eyes. I had just started dancing, and that look made me feel desired. He made me feel sexy at a time when I was nervous as hell. If I wasn’t sexy, I wasn’t making money. If I wasn’t making money, I was out on my ass. Jason gave me that initial confidence to get on stage and really work it.
He was at every one of my shifts, and I could always spot him. He’d be front and center, a drink in one hand, a wad of bills in the other. The waitresses didn't interest him. I noticed that right away. He only had eyes for me. Looking back, I wished I could have seen it. Those hungry eyes wanted nothing to do with who I was, just who I was on stage.
Maybe it had been that initial reaction. Maybe because he made me feel like I really could make it on the stage, I felt like he saw something deeper. The truth was that Jason wanted to keep me, but didn't want to learn anything about me. The first time I explained my car’s name, he’d just stared at me. It was as if hearing that ruined something for him.
Just one week after we began dating, the trouble started. Jason stopped coming into the club at my suggestion. I told him that he was wasting his money on drinks, and Leonard hated it when significant others came into the club. “If they don’t spend, they have no place in the Stem.”
Jason immediately jumped on me, saying that I was seeing someone else, and that he couldn’t go to the club because I was doing more than just stripping. He accused me of all kinds of horrible things, everything from prostitution to drugs. It hurt to hear him say those things, and after the passionate start to the relationship, I was blindsided by the sudden change in his feelings. In retrospect, there were no real feelings.
Jason only felt greed and the selfish need to keep me for himself, not allowing anyone else near me. When a man meets and starts dating a stripper, he should know that it is her life. She isn't looking for a Prince Charming to save her from it.
Tanner didn’t exactly strike me as Prince Charming, either. He was barely charming at all. Disarming was the best compliment I could give him. He’d put me at ease from the second we were in the VIP room together. I didn’t know what it was. He didn’t tell me it was going to be okay, he didn’t run a finger lightly over my cheek, and he didn't make any promises. I liked that. You couldn’t break a promise you hadn’t made.
Sleep came quicker than I’d expected. My mind began to calm when I thought of Tanner and the manly sounds he’d made when I jerked him off in the champagne room. I would worry about my poor car and my crazy ex in the morning.
I sat straight up in bed, my heart racing. I looked around, almost expecting to see Jason spring out from the closet. He didn’t, and I was left alone, wondering why I’d sprung awake.
Bad dreams, I thought. I never remembered my dreams, and no matter how hard I focused, there was no memory of the night’s hallucinations.
I sat there, my eyes open wide, waiting for my breathing to return to normal. Checking the clock, I saw that it was just past nine in the morning. Perfect, I thought. Five hours of sleep. There was a nap in my future already. It was Sunday, but it was anything but a day off for me.
Once the coffee was on, I put in my weekend’s laundry. More thongs and boyshorts than the local Victoria's Secret had gone into the washer. I also had to sort through my makeup and figure out what I needed to restock. Strippers spend more on makeup than on sexy clothing.
With the rich aroma of the coffee wafting from my mug, I stood near the kitchen window and looked down at poor Harvey. I couldn’t afford to get the hood fixed, and Jason had carved into it with a real passion. Just looking at it made me sad. I had to cover it up, otherwise I’d have a mini panic attack every time I saw it.
Alana and I met in the afternoon. It was her week to decide what our cardio was, so she was dragging me to kickboxing. I knew she was coming, but the knock on the door still startled me. She must have seen something in my eyes, because she sat down at my kitchen table when I went to grab my workout gear.
When I came back in, she was staring at me. “Well?”
I shrugged. “Well what?”
“I saw your hood. You want to talk about it?”
“No.” I shook my head. That wasn't good enough for my best friend, though.
“Sorry, let me rephrase that. Let’s talk about it. Sit.”
I sighed. She always got her way, so I put the kettle back on the stove and dropped my workout bag by the door. When I sat down, she scooted her chair in closer.
“It was keyed into the hood when I came out of the Cherry Stem last night. I know he did it, but of course, I can’t prove anything. I can’t tell Leonard or he’ll pull me off another weekend, and I can't afford that.”
She nodded. “And what about the biker?”
I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. “I did what I could. He had a better time in the private room than most. He said he’d be back on Wednesday. I guess I’ll have to wait and see. But what do I do then? Do I start fucking him just so he’s around me at night? Do I ask him to drive me home? Do I try and get him to kick Jason’s ass? I already feel like I’m using him.”
Alana shook her head. “Like this biker isn’t using you. Come on, Jenny. You don’t go to a strip club expecting honesty and a great singles scene. If he comes back on Wednesday, see what kind of move he makes. If he wants to take you home, let him.” She saw the look of protest on my face. “I didn’t say fuck him. I said let him take you home. If he likes you that much, he’ll wait…for a little bit, anyway.”
I tried not to direct my anger at Alana. I was mad at the situation, and I was mad at myself, not her. “Yeah right. Like I found the one biker in Bakersfield who is a gentleman. I saw in his eyes that he’s not, Alana. He’s not an asshole like Jason, but he’s not going to bring me flowers and hold my hand. I guess... I guess I’m worried that it’s out of the frying pan and into the fire.”
The kettle matched my feelings. It began to scream, letting off the steam that I needed to. Before I could get it, Alana stood and poured the hot water into two mugs, then dropped two tea bags in.
“I’m going to tell you a story. It’s about the first club I worked at. It was a place called Winky’s in Palmdale. I was right out of high school, and I guess I’d pissed my parents off one too many times, because they kicked me out. You know it’s hard to get into a club without a reference.”
Alana had been my reference at The Cherry Stem. I nodded.
“I had to dance there at three amateur nights in a row before the owner would even sit down with me. Once he put me on the weekend schedule, it wasn’t two weeks before he made a move. With two hundred dollars to my name, an apartment rented by the week, and nothing else, I thought I had to, Jenny.
“I didn’t have to, but I did. For almost a month, I did. No one at the club cared. After a month, do you know what I decided?” Alana’s eyes glistened with tears, but I didn't think she would dare to let them fall.
“What?” I whispered.
She smiled through the pain. “I decided that I didn’t have to. I did have a choice. The next time he tried to touch me, I broke two of his fingers. I looked him in the eyes and said, ‘You fire me, that’s fine, but if you try to take what I earned tonight, I’ll make the wrist match the fingers.’ He didn’t say a word.”
Alana had pulled me into the story. “Are you kidding?”
“No, I’m not fucking kidding. I heard later on that he didn’t want to tell anyone what happened. He taped them up himself using popsicle sticks.”
She had me beaming. “No. You’re shitting me.”
“I am not.” She laughed. “Real popsicle sticks, too. They were still stained blue and everything.”
We were laughing so hard that she couldn't finish the story, but I got the gist of it. Even when you think you have no choice, you do.
“I took what I earned that night, and I left,” she continued. “I found another club, and I told the owner exa
ctly what happened. You know what? He was a decent guy. He gave me a dance on a Friday night. I ended up working there for a little over a year. Jenny, you aren’t against the wall. You’ve got me, Ellen, and maybe even a sexy biker that want to help you.”
