I stare at my reflection, and puff out a sigh. My long hair is teased, like a puffy white cloud, my blue eyes rimmed in black kohl. Red lipstick, the colour of blood, paints my lips. My dress is tacky, black lace and tightly fitted, over a red bra and thong. It’s pretty much lingerie. Heels so high they should be illegal cover my feet, making my legs look like they go for miles. I look nothing like I do during the day. This costume is a mask. A slutty mask. I clear my mind, knowing there is no point dwelling or playing around with ‘what ifs’. I’m here because this is where the decisions in my life have led me, and although I might not be exactly proud of what I do, it’s a means to an end.
And I won’t be here forever.
“Snow, you’re on,” Temptress, another dancer, calls out to me.
“Okay, thanks,” I reply, my voice dead even to my own ears. I stand up, forgetting myself as I become Snow. I block out everything and concentrate on one thing; getting through the performance. I take in a few deep breaths, and then down the tequila shot sitting on the dressing table. I wince as the liquid slides down my throat, but I need the liquid courage. I fix up my lipstick, and then walk out onto the stage.
Chapter Four
Snoop’s “I Wanna Fuck You” starts to play. I keep my back against the pole, facing away from the audience. I concentrate on the feeling of the cold metal against my skin. The lights turn on; they are dim but enough that I can be easily seen. A few men whistle, and then start to yell out as I swivel my hips, slowly lowering myself down the pole. When I’m crouching low, I sit forward onto my knees, and then spin so I’m facing everyone. The cheers get louder, and I try to tune them out as I raise my hands and hold onto the pole, opening my thighs as wide as they can reach. Then, in one sharp move, I pull myself up and spread my legs out, so I’m doing a split. Lowering myself to the ground, I sit there for a few seconds, before I lift myself up until I’m standing. I walk around the pole, so the men have an unobstructed view of my ass. I lift the lace dress off me and throw it on the floor. More catcalling. I bend over and hold onto the pole, sticking my ass out, wearing nothing but my thong and bra. I start shaking my ass, like you see on music videos. The men seem to love it by the looks on their faces when I turn back around.
Classy bastards.
I stand up straight and step closer to the pole, pulling myself up and wrapping my legs around. When I’m steady, I lean backwards so I’m hanging upside down. Yes—I’ve picked up a few tricks along the way. My huge boobs push up into my face, almost suffocating me. The men call out lines I’m sure they would never say to any other woman, or at least I hope not. I pull myself upright and swirl around the pole, then slide down and do a little shimmying. I undo the back of my bra and let it drop. This is the part I hate the most, the part where I have to go into that place in my head to perform. The red lace lands on the floor, and the whistles and catcalls get louder than ever. I avert my gaze and gyrate my hips sensually, and then turn back to work the pole some more.
I just hope the night passes quickly.
*****
I let the water drip down my face, scrubbing off all traces of makeup. I wash my face three times, making sure it all comes off, not wanting any more curious questions from Grayson.
Grayson.
It would be a lie to say I’m not excited for our date. Okay, I have butterflies just at the thought of our date. I turn the shower off and wrap my white fluffy towel around me. I double-check my face in the mirror, grabbing a wipe to remove the remaining black smudges under my eyes. Then I dry my body and hair and put on my pyjamas. Sliding under my sheets, I sigh in contentment. My feet ache from wearing those ridiculously high heels, and it’s not long before I fall into a deep sleep.
*****
The next morning, I wake up with a smile, which quickly turns into a scowl. There is no point in getting attached to Grayson. The minute he finds out what I do, he’s not going to want anything to do with me. After a shower, I throw on a pair of worn jeans, a black singlet top, and my black ankle boots. I brush out my hair and tie it up in a ponytail. I go makeup free as usual, wearing only a tinted moisturizer. Walking out of my room and into the kitchen, I see Anaya has stayed over at her boyfriend’s place again. I make some toast and Vegemite, eating one piece in the kitchen, and taking the other with me as I walk out the front door. My phone vibrates with a message as I’m almost to the library. I pull it out of my bra where I had slid it in for safekeeping and check the message.
See you tonight/ Pls msg me your address so I can come and pick you up.
P.S. Wear something casual.
Grayson. I smile, and finish my toast, before I reply with my address.
So, I guess I’m really doing this. There’s nothing to say I can’t have a casual relationship with someone, right? Grayson doesn’t have to know that I work the pole two to three nights a week. I hate the thought of being dishonest, but there’s no way around it. No way in hell am I telling him that I’m a stripper. That I take my clothes off and give lap dances for money to pay my debt and bills. The minute he finds out, he will lose all respect for me and look and treat me differently. Just like my brother. The thought puts me in a dejected mood, and I walk into the library feeling like shit.
Chapter Five
Worrying my bottom lip, I stare at my outfit in the mirror. Grayson said casual, so I opted for skinny jeans and a baby blue chiffon top. I hear a knock at the door, so I quickly smooth down my hair once more before I walk out of my room. Anaya beats me to the door, and I can hear her say something and then laugh. She and Grayson walk in seconds later.
“Hey,” he says, smiling with his eyes. He gives me a once-over, his dimples popping out as he grins his approval. “Beautiful.”
Anaya looks at me. “You didn’t tell me you were going on a date with Grayson,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows at me. She looks at Grayson. “You better be good to her.”
“How do you even know him,” I ask her.
She grins. “Everyone knows Grayson Mills.”
Grayson ignores her and walks toward me, pulling me into his side. “Of course I’ll be good to her. You ready to go?” he asks. I nod and say bye to Anaya. We walk outside to where his car is parked.
“No motorcycle today?” I ask, checking out his black car.
He unlocks the car doors with a click of a button and then opens the passenger side door for me. “I didn’t think that was first date material.”
I laugh. “That makes no sense at all.”
He walks around and slides into the driver’s seat. “When we’re on the bike, I can’t talk to you.”
“True, but in the car you don’t have me wrapped around you, my boobs pressed against your back,” I blurt out.
Grayson looks at me for a second, before laughing. “I’m suddenly seeing the error of my ways.”
“As long as you realise,” I add dryly, looking ahead as he pulls out and drives onto the main road. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask, playing with the hem of my top.
“Not yet, but you look perfect. Beautiful as always,” he says, flashing me a grin before looking back to the road.
“Thanks,” I mutter, blushing slightly.
“How was your day?” he asks me.
“It was okay. Just had one class. Then I did some studying at home,” I reply. “How about you?”
“I worked all day. Couldn’t wait for tonight,” he says, glancing over to see my reaction.
“Where do you work?” I ask.
He pauses for a second. “At a hotel.”
Vague. But I don’t push. Because if I do, then he can too. “Do you like it?”
He nods once. “It’s all right. When did you move here from Melbourne?”
“A week before uni started.” I snap my head to him. “How did you know I used to live in Melbourne?”
“You mentioned it,” he says.
“I did?” I don’t remember telling him.
“Yes, Paris,” he says gently, �
�you did.”
“Right, okay. Just before uni started,” I say.
“Do you like it here?”
I shrug. “It’s nice. Quiet. I don’t really know anyone, so I just keep to myself.”
“You know me and Anaya,” he says. “I’m sure you could make friends if you wanted to.”
If I wanted to, but I don’t. “Sure,” I reply, shrugging once more. Grayson pulls into the driveway of a huge single-storey house. When he parks the car, I open my mouth, lifting my finger in the air.
“Before you say anything, this is my house. I thought I could cook dinner for you,” he says, getting out of the car before I can reply. He opens the door for me, watching me as I hesitate. “We can go somewhere else if you like,” he says when I don’t move.
I glance at the house, a house I’d probably have to strip for the rest of my life to afford, and get out of the car. “You live here alone?” I ask him, eyeing the house once more.
“I do. My sister comes and stays usually on the weekends, but that’s about it,” he says, closing the car door and taking my hand in his. I stare down at our hands, wondering when this all happened. He squeezes my hand gently, and I lift my head to look at his face.
“What are you cooking?” I ask curiously. He chuckles and leans down to kiss me on the forehead. I instantly still as his lips touch my skin, at the casualness of his action. He notices and moves away, clearing his throat.
“More grilling than cooking,” he says, his dark eyes not leaving me.
“Steak?” I ask, perking up.
“Steak, salad, and potatoes.”
“Sounds good,” I say, and his shoulders instantly relax. I smile at him, finding it endearing that he’s trying to impress me. He unlocks the front door and opens it for me to enter. I step inside and wait in darkness, until he turns the lights on and steers me into the kitchen.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, taking in the modern marble countertop and white cupboards.
He glances around as if only just noticing. “Yeah, I guess. Here have a seat,” he says, gesturing me to the table. He opens the fridge and starts pulling out ingredients, clumsily knocking over the salt. I purse my lips, trying not to laugh.
“Why don’t I sort out the salad, and you handle the steaks?” I offer. Grayson gives me a sheepish smile and nods, looking grateful.
“You have cooked before, right?” I ask, unable to contain the suspicion in my tone.
Grayson blushes; he actually blushes. “Actually, this is my first time,” he admits, cringing. I want to laugh so hard right now, but I don’t want to hurt the man’s feelings. He looks up at me, taking in my expression. His lip twitches. “Finding this funny, are you?”
I let my laughter escape. “Oh, come on, it’s pretty funny.”
“For you maybe,” he grumbles.
I laugh into my hand. “All right,” I say, standing up and walking to the fridge. “I’ll handle the sides, you handle the meat.”
He smiles at my choice of words and shakes his head at me, his dark brown hair flopping around his face, and his dark eyes dancing with amusement. He steps closer to me, and a gasp leaves my mouth as he grips me by the hips. “Is this okay?” he asks softly. Is it okay? I shouldn’t be here, yet I want to be, more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time.
“Yes,” I reply, nodding as I say it.
“Good, I’m glad you came,” he says softly.
So am I. I am really freaking happy I came tonight. I’m about to tell him so when he puts his index finger against my lips. He stares into my eyes, dark connecting with light, and leans forward slowly. Moving his finger away, he replaces it with his soft, full lips. My eyes flutter shut. The kiss is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. His lips move against mine, demanding yet gentle. His fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer to him. My own fingers find his muscled back, digging slightly. When he pulls back, I’m left feeling flustered. Off balance. I swallow hard and clear my throat. I can still taste him on my lips, leaving me wanting more. Grayson tilts his head, silently studying me. His eyes are warm, and I think I see a flash of puzzlement in them, masked almost instantly. He kisses me once more, this time on my forehead. “I promised you dinner.”
“You did,” I reply breathlessly.
He smiles, dimples out in full effect. “We better get to it then.”
I nod, feeling bereft when he moves away. “Okay.”
The steaks ended up a little burnt. Okay, maybe a lot burnt.
It was the best meal I’d ever had.
Chapter Six
Justin adjusts himself once more, clearly enjoying the show. I hate doing the private lap dances. Hate them. I’d rather be on stage. A private lap dance feels much more personal, and unlike when I’m on stage, I can see the person’s eyes on me.
Justin is a regular here; he comes in at least once a week. He pays me for a lap dance each time. I turn my back to him, an excuse not to look at him, and seductively swing my hips. I lift my hair off my neck, and then pull the string of my barely there halter top. I reach behind my back to pull off the last string holding my top on my body. It falls to the floor, my nipples peaking due to the cool air. I inwardly wince and turn to face Justin. He licks his lips, his gaze stuck on my breasts. You’d think he’s never seen a pair of them before. I continue to dance, moving to the beat of the music. It’s almost mechanical, each move done so many times before, I don’t even have to think about it. The song finishes, and my time in my private booth is over.
“Come home with me?” Justin asks, not for the first time. I shake my head, giving him a teasing smile to soften the blow of rejection. I walk out and nod to the bouncer, letting him know all is well.
“Hey, Snow,” Diamond says, smiling up at me as I walk into the change rooms. Diamond always has a smile on her face. She’s the opposite of me. She’s not embarrassed about what she does, and she has fun doing it. I envy her sometimes.
“Hey, how are you?” I ask her, sitting down next to her. I look in the mirror and gently remove my false lashes.
“I’m good baby girl, good tips tonight,” she says, smiling widely and pulling notes out of her top. ”You want to go out? Enjoy a night on the town?” she asks, raising a finely arched brow.
I shake my head. “Sorry, Diamond, how about I take a raincheck? I have class tomorrow morning,” I tell her honestly.
She pauses. “You’re a good girl, Paris,” she says, using my real name for the first time. She flashes me one more smile before walking out of the change room.
I change and catch a taxi home.
*****
I open my apartment door, surprised when I come face to face with Grayson. “Hey,” I mutter, wondering what he’s doing here. Dropping by unexpectedly could become a problem, but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see him. Over the last few weeks, we’ve gotten to know each other. No matter how much I didn’t want to get involved with anyone, in the end I fell for his charm and easy demeanour. He really is a great guy. I learnt that quickly. Perfect guy, not so perfect timing.
“Hey, mind if I come in?” he says. I realise I’ve been standing there with my arms crossed, staring at him, lost in my thoughts.
“Sorry, of course,” I say, my face hot as I open the door. “Where did you go dressed like that?” I ask, taking in his black pants and white shirt. He looks professional and extremely sexy.
“Came here from work,” he says, smiling at me. “We had a meeting.” Right, the hotel job. He takes my hand and pulls me into his arms. “I missed you today.”
“Missed you too,” I say into his chest.
“How was work last night?” he asks, rubbing his hands down my back.
I stiffen a little at his mention of my work. “It was fine. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thanks,” he says, yawning. “Just wanted to drop in and see you.”
“You look tired,” I say, seeing the weary look in his eyes.
“Yeah, didn’t get much sleep
last night.”
“Come on then,” I say.
His brows furrow, so I take him by the hand and pull him into my bedroom and close the door. He makes himself at home, like he’s been in my room a million times. He takes off his shoes and climbs into my bed, lifting the purple leopard print sheets over him. He looks good in my bed. Too good.
“You going to join me?” he asks, his eyes closed.
I walk over to the other side of the bed and slide in next to him. As soon as my head hits the pillow, he reaches over and cradles me in his arms. “I could get used to this,” he mumbles sleepily. So could I. I’m a little uncomfortable at first, lying like this with him, but soon I hear his breathing even out, and know he is fast asleep. Why did he come here? I have to wonder. He was obviously tired after work. Wouldn’t he want to go straight home?
An hour later, Grayson is still fast asleep. I’ve been working on an assignment in that time and am almost finished when I hear Anaya call out my name. A second later, she bursts into my room. Seeing Grayson, she stills. “Sorry,” she mutters, not looking sorry one bit.
“What’s up?” I ask quietly, not wanting to wake Grayson up. I save the file, close my laptop, and put it on the side table.
“We got invited to a party this weekend,” she says, grinning ear to ear.
“A party?” I repeat, my voice showing my lack of enthusiasm.
“The party,” she corrects. She looks at Grayson. “You two official then.”
I point to the door, my eyes wide. I do not want Grayson to be present for that conversation. Anaya giggles and walks out, closing the door behind her. That girl is always in a good mood.
“So, are we?” comes an amused sleepy voice. Well, shit.
“Hey,” I say.
“Your bed is comfy,” he says, sitting up and looking at me. His shirt is wrinkled, his hair dishevelled, but he still looks sexy as always. He leans closer and pushes a lock of hair behind my ear.
“I’m going to kiss you, Paris,” he says, dark eyes never leaving mine. I nod, unable to say anything. My eyes are already on his lips, anticipating what’s to come. He takes his time, giving me a slow spreading smile before tentatively touching his lips to mine. He draws back a little, studying me before he kisses me again, deeper this time. He gently holds the back of my head, pulling me closer into him. Pushing me back into the mattress, our mouths still connected, he lies on top of me. He moans as he pulls away, placing a sweet kiss on my forehead.
Toxic Girl Page 3
